Carly Phillips - Summer Lovin’

"Zoe isn't the one who asked for this dinner. I did. It's time you meet your family."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Don't go defending her. She probably figures that she can dump me in that big old mausoleum I saw pictures of and go back home without me."

The tears in Sam's eyes and quiver in her voice excused anything she said to him, Ryan thought. Still Zoe deserved better. "Zoe and her family took you in when you had no one. They've treated you like you were one of them."

Sam sniffed and turned away so she could wipe her arm across her face. "So?"

"So she deserves an apology now."

Sam hiccupped and then she ran straight into Zoe's arms, shaking and sobbing, her muffled words tearing his heart in two. "I love you. I want to be with you and Elena and Nicholas and Ari and…" She rhymed off the names of the Costas clan while Zoe stroked her long hair hanging down her back.

"I love you, too," she said to Sam. But her eyes were on Ryan, both of them painfully aware that Zoe couldn't offer Sam the reassurance she wanted most. She couldn't promise that Sam could go back to the house she called home. Not as long as Ryan was in the picture, wanting something from this child, too.

They talked in hushed tones. Zoe handed Sam a tissue and helped her pat her cheeks and dry her tears, which had quickly turned embarrassing to the teenager.

Watching Zoe comfort Sam, Ryan's chest squeezed tight and he had trouble catching his breath. The realization hit him out of the blue. Not only was he fascinated with this woman, but he was falling for her, too. Enough that he needed time to learn even more about the raven-haired woman whose life he had turned upside down.

* * *

ZOE CLOSED HERSELF in her guest room at Ryan's and called Quinn as soon as they returned home. He cursed and muttered a few choice words about his own stupidity for not considering the possibility that whoever seemed to be after Sam would follow them to Boston. Until now, the notion that the guy was after Sam had been pure conjecture. He could have been after something in the house. Now it seemed clear he was specifically after Sam. Unless of course, he was looking to scare or punish the family and was using Sam to accomplish his goal. Until they caught the guy, they were in the dark as to his motives or what he actually wanted.

Zoe shivered. Quinn promised to call a friend of his to arrange covert protection for Sam while they were in town.

In the afternoon, she and Sam watched television, relaxing together and avoiding the topic of what had occurred earlier in the day.

Later that evening, they dressed and headed to Ryan's parents' home where Zoe and Sam suffered through stiff hellos and predinner drinks. She took in the mausoleum in which he'd grown up and realized the difference between her parents' small JerseyShore home and this mansion couldn't be more extreme. Small versus big. Warm versus cold. She shuddered, grateful they'd finally ended up in the dining room for dinner because it meant the evening was progressing, however slowly.

Sam had been quiet during the introductions and Zoe had stayed by her side, offering silent security. Now she discovered that dinner at the Baldwins' was a formal affair, complete with too many plates, forks, knives and spoons for Zoe to handle, never mind a young girl like Sam. Zoe wondered if the place settings were so intricate on purpose, to test Zoe's breeding and Sam's place within this family. She chided herself for thinking the worst and plastered a smile on her face for Sam's sake.

"Zoe's an unusual name," Vivian, Ryan's mother said.

Zoe waited for the help to serve their salads before replying. "It's Greek," she explained.

"Her sister's name is Ariana," Uncle Russ said, surprising Zoe.

That he remembered her sister's name was a shock. A sign that he'd been interested enough to take note of it.

"That's right," she said, forcing a smile. For Ryan's sake she wanted to give the man a chance.

"Which fork do I use?" Sam whispered.

In reply, Zoe picked up her outside utensil on the left and Sam followed suit.

"I guess your family doesn't dine together often?" his mother continued.

"We eat as a family every night," Sam chimed in. "Elena makes the best mousse cocka in the world."

"Heavens!" Ryan's grandmother, who sat at the head of the table, turned pale beneath her heavily caked foundation.

Ryan coughed and Zoe tried not to laugh. "She means moussaka," Zoe said. "If you saw the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you'd understand the joke."

"Well I'd prefer we don't speak that way at the table." Ryan's mother shot Sam a stern glare.

"Sam's got a great sense of humor. Don't you, Sam?" Ryan defended his niece for the umpteenth time tonight, regardless of her outrageous words or shocking behavior, Zoe thought approvingly.

Unfortunately, each time he sided with Sam against his family, Zoe fell a little harder for the man.

Sam grinned. "I sure do. Bet I can tell you where you got them shoes," she said, falling back on the old boardwalk joke.

Everyone around the table looked at one another with blank expressions, except for Ryan's grandmother who frowned and mumbled something about the child's deplorable grammar.

"I give up," Uncle Russ said.

Zoe sensed he sought to make Sam more comfortable and she silently applauded his attempt.

"Where'd I get my shoes?" Russ prodded Sam.

"You got 'em on your feet!" Sam laughed and slammed her hand on the table for emphasis, knocking over Zoe's glass of red wine by mistake.

Zoe jumped up to avoid being soaked by the liquid, but the white tailored blouse she wore had already taken the worst of the spill.

"Oh jeez!" Sam grabbed for her napkin and helping Zoe, they began to blot the mess.

Suddenly Ryan's grandmother yelled at them both. "Stop!"

They paused.

"Those napkins were stitched by my mother and aren't meant to be used as dishrags."

"But they're napkins," Sam said. She looked at Ryan, who also stood. He surveyed the table and the situation, his cheeks turning a ruddy color.

"Then pardon me, ma'am, but why put them on a table where there's food, drink, and their designated use is for cleaning?" Zoe asked with the same mock sweetness she'd been treated to all evening.

"Clearly we're going to have to teach the young lady table manners if she's going to fit in." Ryan's mother picked up a bell Zoe hadn't noticed before and rang for the help to clean up.

Zoe clenched her jaw. "I wonder what good table manners will do her in a house when all other form of manners are missing."

Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Relax," he said softly.

She couldn't begin to know how after all she'd endured.

"I'll handle this," he promised both with his words and his touch.

"Ryan, there's no need to handle anything. I understand Samantha hasn't been raised in the best of homes, so rest assured we'll cut her some slack," his mother said.

Zoe's temper flared. "How dare you insult my family and my home- "

Ryan's easy touch turned harsher, cutting her off. "This was a mistake." He strode over to Sam and Zoe. "I wanted you to meet each other," he said, facing the table. "You've done that. Now we're leaving."

His dark eyes flashed angry sparks. He was obviously pained with emotions Zoe had never seen in him before.

Without realizing her intent, she reached up and covered his hand with her own, offering him the only support she could.

As they turned to leave, Uncle Russ spoke. "Wait. This situation has been difficult on all of us, can we at least agree on that?"

"He's got a point," Ryan's father said.

The older women, Ryan's mother and grandmother, nodded their agreement.

"Zoe?" Uncle Russ asked.

She pivoted, met the older man's gaze and forced herself to nod as well.

"Samantha?"

"It bites," she muttered, only to receive an elbow on either side from both Zoe and Ryan.

"The kid does have a point, albeit a colorful one," Uncle Russ conceded with a smile. He gestured to their empty chairs.

For the sake of Ryan's relationship with his family, Zoe decided to follow Uncle Russ's lead, and grabbing Sam's hand, she sat back down.

"I think we need to start over," Uncle Russ said, his pointed gaze settling on his nephew. "Tonight we get through this meal and as a thank-you, tomorrow we do something Samantha would enjoy more."

Although Zoe hadn't liked Russ upon meeting him, she admitted that it was because she'd feared his effect on his nephew. Instead, he'd proven to be an unlikely ally and she admired how he pulled the family together, forcing her to reassess her opinion of the man. Besides if Ryan liked him, Zoe was determined to give him a chance.

"You always were the voice of reason, Russ." Ryan's elderly grandmother smiled. "Ryan, please sit."

Ryan stiffly and warily took his seat.

While they had been arguing, Zoe realized, the help had cleaned up the mess and replaced everything like new.

"So, Samantha, that's an interesting necklace you're wearing. Care to tell us about it?" Uncle Russ strove for a nonthreatening topic and Zoe was grateful.

"It was my mom's," Sam said, her fingers playing with the keys that always dangled around her neck.

"Why, I don't think Faith would wear something so- "

Ryan coughed loudly, clearly warning his mother to tread lightly or they were leaving for good this time.

The other woman flushed and said, "I meant, I don't remember Faith owning those."

Sam shrugged. "It's all they let me keep of hers when I went to my first foster family." She glanced down, picked up the proper fork, and began to eat her salad.

The rest of the family did the same. Somehow disaster had been averted for tonight, but Zoe's stomach was in complete knots when it came to the notion of Sam coping with these people on a daily basis.

She glanced at Ryan's strong profile, the mask behind which he hid his pain. Zoe knew he'd placed unspoken hope in his parents' ability to come around and they'd disappointed him. Meanwhile she'd placed no faith in Ryan's ability to stand up to his parents. If he knew that, he'd be disappointed in her, as well. Heaven knew she was disappointed in herself. She shouldn't have needed to see evidence of where his loyalties would lie.

Ryan had proven himself tonight and the thought ought to give Zoe pure joy. Instead she was forced to acknowledge that it brought her and her family closer than ever to losing Sam for good.

IT WAS MIDNIGHT and Ryan lay in his bed, channel surfing because he couldn't sleep. Couldn't forget the awful night in his stifling childhood home. He'd disappointed the new women in his life, two amazing women who he realized had come to mean more to him than the family who'd raised him.

From the minute Ryan had walked into the house and seen the formality he'd tried to forget, he knew things wouldn't go well. Still, he'd tried to let both Sam and his parents be themselves and hoped that the adults would have learned from their past mistakes. Clearly that hadn't been the case and there were only two reasons he hadn't made good on his threat to walk out- his uncle and Zoe.

Zoe hated his family and all they stood for. He'd seen it in her eyes, her expression and he'd heard it in her tone and hurt voice, when she'd defended her parents. Yet she'd backed down and she'd done it for him.

When he heard the soft knock on his bedroom door, he thought he'd imagined it until he heard it again and the door slowly swung wide. He supposed he should have been surprised to see Zoe standing there, but he wasn't. Not when she was the answer to his dreams and prayers.

He pushed himself up in bed and crooked a finger her way.

She shut the door behind her and leaned back against it. "You don't mind my being here?"

"Why should I?"

She shrugged. "Sam's down the hall, for one thing."

"After three nights I've learned the kid sleeps like the dead."

Zoe laughed. "Isn't that the truth. I can't remember the last time I crashed that hard."

"You haven't slept well since you've been here, that much I know."

She tipped her head to one side, her dark hair falling over the white satin of her robe. "Snooping on me?"

"No more than you've been doing to me, I'm sure. These walls aren't that thick. So are you going to stand there and make small talk all night?"

She laughed and strode forward, sitting on the end of his double bed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."