Summer of Love - Carly Phillips Page 0,4

“I think you’re confusing me—”

Ignoring his protest, she grabbed his hand, pulling him farther into the crowd.

He groaned aloud but resigned himself to going along. Short of digging in his heels, nothing would stop this determined woman, but that didn’t ease his sense of guilt. Trained by his parents, Ryan typically behaved above reproach. He preferred not to lie or cheat, but this woman had presented him with an opportunity. If Sam’s foster family thought he was a social worker, they wouldn’t turn him away.

Besides, he had no idea how Sam would react to him showing up in her life and he appreciated the chance to observe his niece and figure out a plan that would benefit them both. He assuaged his conscience by promising himself he’d correct the false assumption before any real damage was done.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get far before they were stopped again.

“Halt,” demanded a beautiful woman, a younger version of the one holding his hand.

Ryan couldn’t help but stare. Her silky black hair twisted around shoulders bared by a lime-green halter top tucked into a pair of faded jeans. The shirt’s bright color complemented her Mediterranean skin tone, which glowed beneath the afternoon sun. She completely entranced him.

The older woman he’d begun to think of as a tornado came to a stop and uttered a few words in Greek to her that he didn’t understand before switching to perfect English.

“Zoe, this man is the replacement from Social Services, so make nice. I want him to meet your papa. Have you seen him?”

“He’s inside getting the cake.” She gestured toward the house. “Mama, why don’t you go round up Sam and her friends and get ready to sing?”

She possessed a deep voice that reminded him of hot sex, and he felt himself begin to sweat beneath the afternoon sun.

Her mother nodded. “I forgot to defrost the cake, so I hope your father remembers to bring hot water to dip the knife. And your Aunt Kassie better behave because you know how badly she wanted to bake the cake. But we had to please Sam on her special day.” She glanced at Ryan and smiled broadly. “Carvel is Sam’s favorite. Do you like ice-cream cake, Mr.…?”

“Baldwin. Ryan Baldwin.” His head was already spinning from his dealings with Elena Costas, and he opted to use his real name for fear he’d confuse himself otherwise. With his sister’s myriad name changes, he had no fear they’d connect him to Sara Morgan, Faith’s last known name.

He forced a comfortable smile. “I love cake, especially Carvel.”

“Then let’s do it so we can get to the gifts. I can’t wait for Sam to see what we bought for her,” Elena said.

“Maybe we should wait until tonight when we’re alone.” Zoe shot a pointed glance at Ryan.

Her mother shook her head. “Nonsense. Mr. Baldwin seems like the kind of man who’d want a young girl to be happy. I’m right, yes?” she asked.

“Uh, of course.” But he wondered what kind of gift Sam would be receiving that had Zoe uncomfortable.

“You see?” Elena took his hand once more, grabbed Zoe and headed deeper into the yard.

They came to a stop by a picnic table, and while Elena busied herself gathering the girls, Zoe turned to Ryan, her eyes intense and serious. “You’ll have to excuse my mother, but she’s so excited about this party. She just adores Sam and wants everything to be perfect. You’ll like my family,” she assured Ryan, her need for his acceptance blatant.

In her mind, he was the social worker whose opinion would help determine whether they were an appropriate home for his niece. They needed to impress him. He needed for them to fail any inspection.

But as he observed her expressive face and the obvious pleasure she took in this entire day, he realized this was no act for a social worker. Zoe’s love for his niece was so real; he couldn’t help but like her for it.

“I’m sure I’ll like your family,” he told her. Even if what he’d seen so far showed him a carnival atmosphere he couldn’t possibly understand.

Zoe’s shoulders eased, and she seemed to relax. “How’s Katherine’s mother? We were all so sorry to hear she couldn’t make it today because of her mother’s fall.”

Katherine must be the missing social worker, he realized, the moment of panic passing. “She’ll be okay.” He hoped he was telling the truth.

“Okay, cake time,” a male voice boomed through the loudspeakers. “Everyone gather.” He spoke slowly and with a more