Summer Lovin’ (Costas Sisters #2)(41)
Author: Carly Phillips

Her admission let him know that her feelings for him ran as deeply as his did for her. The difference was, he refused to run away.

"I’m a threat? Or your own feelings are?"

She breathed in deep and he felt the tremors wracking her body. "A little of both, I suppose."

He narrowed his gaze, not surprised and yet confused at the same time. "You come from an open, loving family. One that isn’t afraid of expressing their feelings, good or bad. You can’t possibly be afraid of falling in love."

Love? Not yet, but the possibility wasn’t completely incomprehensible. Still, he couldn’t believe he’d said the word out loud.

Neither could she. Her eyes opened wide, but to her credit, she held on to her composure as she tried to explain. "I’m thirty and I’ve never fallen in love. Never said the words to a man who wasn’t a family member. I’ve watched my parents live the emotion and saw my sister fall firsthand. I’ve long since accepted that it isn’t going to happen for me. And it definitely can’t happen between two people as different as us."

Well, he’d asked. Now he knew. And his stomach cramped as he realized how tightly she held on to her notions.

"Differences aren’t always a bad thing," he reminded her.

She shook her head and laughed. "You’re determined to make this difficult, aren’t you?"

"Not at all." He reached out and stroked her cheek. "You’re scared of feelings you never thought you’d have. Join the club, sweetheart. I’m thirty and I’ve never been in love. Never said the words or even thought I’d fallen hard." And he wouldn’t say them outright just yet, either. "It’s something we do have in common."

She glanced down at the comforter. "My life is at a crossroads. Surely you see that. I’m still living at home. My business, which doesn’t even have a name, is barely up and running and I’ve already had to put it on hold to come up here."

"To be with Sam. Who needs you. You didn’t hesitate to drop everything for her and she’s not even your flesh and blood. Compare that to the situation she’s got waiting for her here and you’re miles ahead of us."

She laughed. "Looks like neither of us gives ourselves enough credit."

"So isn’t it great that we’ve got each other cheering us on? You know you’re the first woman I’ve ever known who’s truly an individual. You have drive, direction— "

"Ryan, don’t." She shook her head and didn’t meet his gaze. "I need to resettle before I can consider myself a part of a couple or even seriously consider a relationship."

He nodded in understanding, telling himself she hadn’t completely closed herself off to the notion of them. She needed time to adjust to her feelings, which gave him time to confront her fears and find solutions. He needed to be able to deal with each point on a rational level or he’d never change her mind. A possibility he couldn’t begin to contemplate.

She shut her eyes and leaned back, closing him out.

But this time he wasn’t unnerved by her need to pull away because he understood now that she was scared. Scared of how an emotion as intense as love could change her life and threaten the freedom she held so dear.

He’d just have to take her fears as a challenge to overcome.

* * *

ZOE STRETCHED OUT on the lounge chair by the pool at Ryan’s parents’ house. She couldn’t say she was comfortable with his mother and grandmother sitting beneath an umbrella on the opposite side of the patio, alternately staring and whispering. She felt like a pariah at a party.

But then she’d turned and looked at Ryan, who lay beside her in swimming trunks, and decided life could be much, much worse. His tanned chest was a magnet for her hungry gaze and she devoured him from behind her sunglasses.

Only she knew she’d spent the night in his bed. He’d managed to coax her into forgetting their intense conversation and making love, not once, but twice last night and then again this morning. Each time he’d come inside her, he’d shuddered and whispered her name, soft and low in her ear. He’d made her insides turn to mush, made liquid trickle between her thighs so she could clasp him in moist heat. Zoe crossed her legs and felt that sensitive spot tingle and shoot desire straight to her core.

As a distraction, she tried to focus on the afternoon sun, which beat down hard, but her mind strayed back to their too-serious conversation last night. What he was coming to mean to her, and her to him. And why she needed to back off.

Zoe shivered despite the hot sun. She grabbed for the sunscreen and slathered lotion on her arms and chest. All the while, she felt Ryan watching her, too.

"Hey, Zoe!" Sam yelled.

She glanced up, shielding her eyes with her hand so she could better see the teenager’s antics.

"Cannonball!" Sam yelled and jumped, grabbing her knees midair prior to hitting the water, which splashed over all the chairs drenching everything in sight.

Thanks to the heat Ryan generated, Zoe didn’t mind the cold shower. His mother, on the other hand, rose from her seat and shook her arms in fury.

"Samantha, there are other people in the vicinity!" Vivian chided.

"Sorry, Mrs. Baldwin." Sam said the words in a singsong voice that failed to sound sincere.

The older woman, clad in a too-formal summer dress, glanced at Ryan. "Does the child have to call me that? I sound like a stranger."

"You are," Zoe muttered beneath her breath.

"What would you like Sam to call you?" Ryan asked.

That question seemed to stump his mother and she grew oddly quiet.

"How ’bout I call you Grandma?" Sam asked, stepping out of the pool.

Zoe chuckled. The kid might not want anything to do with Ryan’s family, but she definitely knew how to push all the right buttons to annoy them.

"Why don’t you just call her Vivian?" Ryan suggested.

Any replies were interrupted by shrieks from the side of the house.

"Oh, no." Zoe ran, Ryan ahead of her, and the others followed.

They rounded the corner and Zoe nearly barreled into Ryan who’d stopped short. His grandmother stood on a white wrought-iron bench, pointing at the ground and shrieking.

"Mother, what’s wrong?" Vivian asked.

"It’s…it’s…there’s a rat in my roses," she screamed loudly. "Call Hilton," she said. Hilton, Zoe now knew, was the butler.

Nobody pointed out that, even in her panicked state, Grandma Edna directed that the butler be called to help when there were perfectly capable family members standing around uselessly. Meanwhile, Grandma Edna still gesticulated wildly with her hands.

"Have him call a terminator," the older woman shouted.

"I think you mean an exterminator."