His fear for Sam and Zoe had receded as soon as he'd seen them standing in the kitchen, unhurt. But his stomach churned as he'd listened to the end of Sam's story and now witnessed the unorthodox way the family handled the crisis. They were upset, yes, but the break-in seemed more a cause for drama than concern.
Even Sam seemed to revel in her role in the escapade.
"Mama, I'm going to take Ryan for breakfast and explain everything." Zoe placed an arm around her mother's shoulder and helped her rise to her feet.
"You go to Paradeisos, yes?" Elena asked. "Aunt Kassie will take good care of you."
"Okay. You take care of Dad and Sam, okay?"
Elena nodded. "You're a good girl, Zoe." She kissed her daughter's cheek and whispered something in her ear.
"I love you." Zoe hugged her mother tight.
Watching the interaction, a lump of emotion swelled in Ryan's chest and he wondered if his sister would still be alive had she experienced even one tenth of the love so freely given in this family. No judgments were made, no life-altering repercussions came as a result of bad behavior. Quite simply, this family was as foreign to Ryan as any distant country or culture.
Zoe walked up beside him. "Let's go."
He shot a glance Sam's way. "Are you okay?" he asked the young girl in the calm, steady voice expected of a foster-care worker. Inside, Ryan struggled with his emotions and was frustrated by his inability to express them.
"I'm cool." But she held tightly onto Ima and, despite her outward bravado, he sensed she wasn't as fearless as she wanted him to believe.
"And I'm serious. If you need anything- "
"She knows who to turn to." Zoe prodded him in the back. "Come."
He narrowed his gaze. She was a damn pushy woman, but he couldn't deny he was glad to see her after the weekend apart. Just knowing Zoe was a member of this family eased Ryan's mind about Sam's safety. Zoe could be trusted to take good care of her.
"Elena, you will use the locks in the future," he stated, not asked.
"Yes."
"I will see to it, Mr. Baldwin." Nicholas held his hand up in the air. "I promise you Samantha is safe with us."
Ryan merely nodded and this time allowed Zoe to practically shove him out of the kitchen, then the family room and finally the house.
Once they were in the sunshine, she pasted a bright smile on her face and asked, "My car or yours? Actually why don't I drive since you don't know your way around here and I go to the diner all the time. This way we won't get lost and we'll be eating in no time."
He already knew Zoe rambled when she was worried and now was no different.
He remained quiet on the way to wherever the restaurant was and let Zoe point out sights and continue to talk. He liked listening to her voice and despite their odd circumstances, she soothed his nerves.
Too much, considering everything that lay between them.
AFTER ZOE PARKED in the graveled lot, Ryan followed her into the local diner. "So your aunt Kassie owns this place?" he asked.
Zoe nodded. "She's my father's sister."
"I met her that first night."
He settled into a seat across from Zoe in a tight booth with an individual coin-operated jukebox on the wall by the window. "They don't have anything quite like this in Boston." He glanced around at the linoleum floors, the blue vinyl seats and paper place mats printed with various advertisements.
She tipped her head to the side and those long, dark strands brushed her shoulders. "Oh really? Because they aren't upscale?"
He read the wariness in her tone. "No, because from my understanding, a traditional diner is a New York/New Jersey thing."
"We're Greek. Diners are our heritage," a female voice said.
He glanced up to see a dark-haired woman standing by the table.
"Hi, Daph. Meet Sam's social worker, Ryan Baldwin. Daphne's my first cousin," Zoe explained.
"Nice to meet you, Daphne." Ryan shook the other woman's hand, but his mind was on how seamlessly Zoe had lied to yet another family member and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Need menus?"
Zoe waved a hand, indicating she didn't. "But I'm sure Ryan does seeing as how he's never been to a diner before."
He caught the snicker in her voice and shot her a scowl. "I'd appreciate a menu," he told Daphne.
The waitress handed him what felt more like a pile of laminated lead. "Take your time," she said, but continued to stand over him.
He glanced from Daphne, who was beautiful in a more made-up way than her cousin, back to Zoe again.
Zoe let out an exaggerated sigh. "You can go now, Daph."
"Are you sure he's just the social worker?" She leaned down, giving him a gratuitous view of her cleavage.
"I'm sure he's just the social worker." Zoe shook her head and laughed. "Daphne loves to snoop into her cousins' lives because she doesn't have a love life of her own."
"Aha! So you admit he's more than a social worker."
Zoe turned beet red. "I admit no such thing."
"You just did by the color in your cheeks."
Ryan had never been around this kind of family teasing and he took pity on Zoe. "I'll have eggs over easy and white toast with butter," he said hoping to distract Daphne from the more personal issues.
"Tsk-tsk, cholesterol heaven. I'll tell Dad to make it egg whites so you'll live a long, healthy life." She snatched his menu. "You'll have the usual, Zoe?"
She nodded and Daphne finally left them alone.
"So what's the usual?" he asked.
"Old-fashioned French toast."
"What makes it old-fashioned?"
She raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised. "Old-fashioned is made on regular bread, not the extrathick kind."
"Aha." He glanced over his shoulder in time to see their waitress enter the swinging kitchen doors, then turned back to Zoe. "So what do you do for a living?" he asked now that he was certain Cousin Daphne had disappeared.
Zoe leaned both elbows on the table and edged forward. "So what makes you ask?" She knew Ryan had given her more information about himself than she'd reciprocated, yet this sudden question took her by surprise.
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. You don't seem to be having much trouble helping me act the social worker role in front of your family. I mean look how easily you just lied to Daphne."
She narrowed her gaze. "So?"
"So lying comes easily to you. I read about your family's cons. I've seen the old newspaper articles. The 'Alien Twins Invade New Jersey' photograph in The National Enquirer- "
"Hey just because my mother put self-tanning lotion on us and we turned orange- "
"A normal family wouldn't have leveraged it into a national spectacle."
Zoe rolled her eyes and laughed at the memory. "'All the news that's fit to print.'"
"That particular slogan belongs to The New York Times."
Daphne arrived with their coffees, placing their cups on the table. Before Zoe could send her on her way, she said, "I know, I know, I'm going. I'll give you privacy." Shaking her head, she walked away, her heels clicking.
"So besides finding sensationalism amusing and protecting my family, what else am I doing wrong in your eyes?" Zoe asked.
He ran his hand through his hair, messing up that always perfect coif. "It isn't wrong, it's different. And I'm allowing for it," he admitted. "All of you just take some getting used to."
She grinned. "We do tend to grow on you. Oh, and to get back to your original question, I used to be a Secret Service agent."
"Wow." He leaned closer, staring at her intently. "What made you choose the Secret Service?"
"Hmm. I'd have to say the excitement of the training is what lured me into the FBI initially. Later I chose Secret Service because I loved meeting new people. And since I was in the lower echelons of government protection, I didn't have to leave my family." She spread her hands wide. "For the most part it was a win-win situation."