Page 15 of Summer of Love (Costas Sisters 2)
She stepped out the sliding glass door and onto the large patio. Her mother was nowhere to be found, but Sam and Ryan were alone together in the yard. That by itself was enough to jolt her system. But when she caught sight of a shirtless Ryan digging a hole in the grass, a rush of adrenaline and desire raced through her veins.
The man was handsome in a suit, but, thee mou, she couldn’t have imagined the body hidden beneath the well-cut material. His back was already deeply tanned from the summer sun, and his muscles flexed and pulled, teasing her each time he dug into the dirt. Watching him, she couldn’t stop imagining what his smooth skin would feel like beneath her hands or how his hard body would mesh perfectly with hers.
A warning voice echoed in her head, reminding her he wasn’t a social worker and he was a threat to Sam’s place in Zoe’s well-loved family. But the truth didn’t change the desire churning inside her or the need he inspired.
She’d never let her emotions take over common sense, but then she’d never met a man like Ryan.
“Zoe! Come hang with me and Ryan.”
Sam’s voice snapped her out of her musings, and she approached warily, completely aware of the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn Sam’s attitude toward Ryan Baldwin seemed to have taken.
“What have you and Ryan been talking about?” Zoe asked. And just when had Mr. Baldwin, the social worker with the stick up his butt, become just plain Ryan? Zoe wondered.
He dug the shovel into the dirt and leaned on the handle, his entire look and attitude providing a more rugged, outdoorsy appearance than she would have associated with him after their first meeting.
“We’re discussing the finer points of raising pigs.” He rubbed his sweaty hands on his khakis, leaving a trail of dirt behind.
Zoe wondered what his Boston relatives would think if they saw him now, but with Sam around, she couldn’t ask. She could, however, remark on the unusual nature of his task. “What’s going on?” She pointed to the patch of dirt where grass used to be.
“It’s a place for Ima to root,” Sam explained. “The books Ryan brought me said that if we give Ima a place of her own to dig and play in, we’ll cut down on her doing it in inappropriate places.”
Zoe’s gaze flew to Ryan. “You bought her books?”
“And magazines,” Sam added.
“I see.” Zoe nodded slowly.
“I showed up at her birthday party empty-handed. It was the least I could do.” He shrugged as if the gesture meant nothing.
Zoe knew that for him, the gift was a huge offering. Symbolic of something Sam couldn’t begin to understand or comprehend. Zoe wondered if she should question his sincerity, but then decided it was a petty thought, unworthy of her.
“So I read a few pages, and now we’re giving Ima a place of her own.” Sam grinned and gestured to the patch of dirt Ryan had created.
Zoe glanced down. “In the yard.”
“Yep.”
“Where Elena’s daffodils bloom in the spring.” She leaned closer to inspect his handiwork. “Interesting choice,” she said, looking into Ryan’s stunned eyes.
“Sam said that was an empty spot.” He blanched. “She said that nobody would care if I dug here. In fact, young lady, you begged for me to dig in this very place.” He raised his voice at Sam, obviously caught himself, then moderated his tone. “You said it would be fine.”
Sam flung her arms in the air, typical teenager style. “Hey, I didn’t know, okay?”
The muscle in his jaw that ticked when he was agitated started up again. “Then maybe you should have asked for permission first.”
“Hey—”
“Is for horses,” Zoe said in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
Not that Ryan would know, but Sam wouldn’t put up with yelling or discipline from a stranger. In her mind, an adult had to earn the right to reprimand her by first proving they cared. The Costas family had already been down that road. Sam had tested them, retested them and now finally believed she belonged. If they punished her, she understood it was because they loved her, not because they were worried the state would take away their monthly foster stipend.
Zoe placed a hand on his arm. She’d meant her touch to calm him, but it had the opposite effect, at least on her. His skin was hot from a combination of the sun’s rays and his body heat. Heat she wanted desperately to share in the most intimate way possible, and those butterflies came to life in her stomach once more.
But she couldn’t just ignore everything going on around her. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “We can replant the daffodil bulbs in the fall, and the flowers will bloom again next year. They’ll look just as pretty over there.” She pointed to a spot a few feet away.
