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 cle**age.
"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 info rmation 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."
"But?"
"What?"
"You said for the most part it was win-win. What didn't you like?"
She grinned. "As you might guess, the strict rules and regulations didn't agree with me. I mean after I had to be forced into a safe house and my family thought I was dead, the agency ripped into me but good. Of course, I did it for my family, but did anyone understand? Nope." She paused for a sip of coffee. "Forced confinement can really make a person evaluate what's important and I wanted more out of my career than a strict, by-the-book environment."
He looked at her for a moment as though to take in all of what she'd revealed. "Not a shock," he finally said and he laughed, and Zoe realized exactly what she found most attractive about him.
The dimples he showed when he smiled. Really smiled, not the forced kind when he was trying to figure her family out or pretend to like a situation when he was really confused. The dimples that didn't seem to go with the Italian-cut suits he favored, like the navy one he wore today. Also appealing was the way he kissed, something she hadn't been able to get out of her mind all weekend.
"Am I that predictable?" she asked.
"I definitely hadn't pegged you for an agent of any kind, but now that I know you, I'm sure the rules made you insane. But at least I understand how you hold on to a poker face so easily. So, what are you doing now that your federal career is behind you?"
She rubbed her hands together, the excitement she felt in talking about her new business growing. "I'm in business with Quinn and Connor. We're going to provide protection for movie stars and musicians coming to entertain in Atlantic City . In fact, we just took on our first official client this morning. GSC Music."
He nodded and she could see from his expression that she'd impressed him.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"I need to ask another question."
She laughed. "Anyone tell you you're nosy?"
"Only when it comes to you," he said, sounding a bit stunned by the admission. "What did your mother whisper to you before we left the house?"
She hadn't realized he was paying attention. "She asked me to stick close to Sam's social worker."
He reached for the centerpiece on the table and rolled it between his palms. "And you didn't feel guilty?"
"Of course I did, but let me tell you something. I'd feel guiltier if I told her the truth before I knew enough about you and your family. I need time with you. You need time with Sam. I think we both understand and agree on that, don't we?"
He nodded slowly. "I do. And I think you're an incredible woman, Zoe Costas."
Something about the way he said her name sent tremors of awareness down her spine. Again. The man was amazing, from his caring nature to his potent sex appeal. Her fingers itched with the uncontrollable urge to touch his hand. A simple touch, though the feelings he evoked were much more complex than simple.