Summer Lovin’ (Costas Sisters #2)(46)
Author: Carly Phillips

Zoe suspected it was the shopping bribe that did the trick, and they dropped Sam off with her grandmother along with strict orders: if asked, she was to say that Ryan and Zoe were off spending time together. Nothing more, not to anyone.

Ryan remained silent during the ride until Zoe couldn’t take being frozen out anymore. "I’m sorry," she said at last.

One hand on the wheel, he briefly turned toward her. "For?"

That was a good question, Zoe thought. For causing distrust and upheaval in his life? For not just handing Sam over like she was a possession?

"For accusing your uncle," she said, addressing only one of the many issues between them.

He shrugged. "Just because he’s been good to me doesn’t mean he’s the easiest person to know or like. I hope this little trip will convince you that his interest in Sam is genuine."

But from his tight jaw and steely expression, she didn’t believe him. She wondered if his internal turmoil had anything to do with the fear that perhaps she was on to something with his uncle, then tossed that notion aside. In his mind, blood ties ran deep, loyalty ran even deeper and his uncle had been his only friend in a conflicted upbringing.

"How much longer till we get there?" she asked, glancing at the dashboard clock.

"About ten minutes. We have time. So tell me something."

She was happy to have conversation. "What do you want to know?"

"More about you. I know all about your family life, but I don’t know that much about you."

"I’m an open book."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Ha."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you talk this nice game about openness and being yourself, yet I don’t know much about you. Who are your friends outside of your family?"

She opened her mouth in surprise. "Are you insinuating I don’t have friends?"

"I didn’t meet any besides family while I stayed with you."

"My work kept me very busy and away from home. I have agency friends I left behind and some I see for drinks every once in a while," she said, feeling extremely defensive. "What about you? I haven’t noticed a whole lot of messages from guys asking you to go to a Red Sox game or out for a beer. Or is it that you’re too good for a cold brew?"

He burst out laughing. "Now that’s the Zoe I love. Get defensive, throw it back in my face. I admit to not having much of a social life. Lawyers work long hours and we socialize with other attorneys. A quick drink with one of my partners before heading home or a date with someone if the mood strikes."

A date. "Anybody important in your life?" She couldn’t help but ask, though she was shocked that as close as they’d been, neither had opened up much before now.

For someone who prided herself on her independence, she was appalled at how her palms grew damp and her stomach knotted as she waited for his reply.

He pulled off at the exit and stopped at a red light. Turning, he faced her. "No, Zoe. Nobody else important."

She met his gaze. Heat and something much more intense passed between them until a car honked, breaking the moment. They glanced up to see the light had turned green and Ryan stepped on the gas.

She exhaled a long, slow breath.

"How about you? Anybody serious in your life?" he asked. "I assume by your family’s reaction to your turning thirty and still being single that the answer is no, but a mystery woman like you could be hiding a secret or two." His lips twitched in amusement.

She shook her head. "Nobody serious. In fact, my last relationship was brief and more a distraction from boredom than anything else."

She and Marco, the guy who’d been assigned to guard her at the safe house had generated serious physical sparks and had helped pass some long, lonely hours by the end of her stay there. But nothing emotional had ever come of it. Nothing emotional ever did.

Until now, she thought, staring at Ryan’s satisfied expression and handsome profile. He caused butterflies to ripple around her insides, emotions she ought to peg as adolescent and silly, yet everything about her feelings for Ryan were completely adult in nature.

And way too serious.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel and her gaze fell to his strong hands and what she knew to be a deft touch capable of arousing inexplicable pleasure.

"So not much time to socialize, not many close friends, and no serious relationships at the moment. We have more in common than you’d think, wouldn’t you say?"

She murmured a noncommittal reply, hoping his question was a rhetorical one.

Before they could discuss anything else, the bus station loomed before them. He pulled into a parking space in a large lot and suddenly all the things they had in common took a back seat to those that pulled them apart.

* * *

RYAN STRODE INTO THE TERMINAL, Sam’s keys in his pocket. Though it wasn’t easy, he tried to push aside all that they’d discussed during their trip here. His questions during the car ride were so obviously meant to get her to think more about them that they were laughably transparent. Yet she still fought the notion. Considering all that was going on at the moment, he welcomed the time to bring her around.

He refused to contemplate the possibility that she wouldn’t recognize their compatibility or the depth of her feelings for him. Nobody, not even this stubborn woman, would opt to be alone forever.

At least he hoped not or he was doomed to the same fate.

He approached the customer-service counter and the grumpy-looking man seated behind it. "Hi, there."

The man took his time lifting his gaze from the crossword puzzle on his desk. "Yeah."

Ryan placed Sam’s key on the counter. "Does this look familiar to you?"

Yawning, he reached for the key. "Looks old, but yeah it’s one of ours."

"Can you tell me who this locker number is registered to today?" Ryan asked.

The man shook his head. "No. None of your business."

Zoe slipped up beside him and leaned forward on her elbows. "We’d just like to know if Faith Baldwin’s name is still on locker 811."

"Did you say 811?" His voice perked up suddenly.

"Yes. It’s on the key if you’d bothered to— Ooomph," Ryan grunted as Zoe nudged him in the ribs.

"Does that number sound familiar to you?" she asked sweetly.

"Another man was here asking about that locker number around lunchtime."

Ryan took the man’s words like a punch in the stomach.

"Can you describe him?" Zoe asked before Ryan had had a chance to catch his breath.

"Tall, gray hair, wearing a suit." He rolled his eyes. "He looked like any businessman with money who comes through here every day. What do you people want from me, anyway?"