Under the Boardwalk (Costas Sisters 1)

“Quinn?”

It wasn’t the concern in Ari’s voice but the reminder that he was still on assignment that jolted him back to reality. Quinn latched onto the idea of work. Hell, it was as convenient an excuse as any to not deal with his emotions, and he pushed thoughts of his feelings for Ari aside, to be dissected later when he was alone.

“I got distracted. Let me prove to you that you can handle the tables.” He tugged on her elbow, urging her to make the move, and to help him shift his attention, too.

She glanced down. Four quarters remained in the machine’s tray. “Just let me have one more try here first.”

She inserted all four pieces into the machine at once—the first such daring move she’d made all night—then pulled the handle. Without glancing back, she rose and started to walk away from the machine, obviously certain she’d tossed away a dollar.

The bells, lights, and whistles caught Quinn off guard and he turned. Her machine was glowing with flashing lights and a loud siren as accompaniment.

He blinked, stunned. “You won!”

“Who won?” she asked.

She pivoted toward him and he grabbed her around the waist, spinning her around in midair. “You did!”

She let out a shriek. “How much did I win?” she asked, oblivious to the fact that she was starting to draw a crowd.

“I’d say about five thousand dollars. You’re a lucky lady.”

Damon’s voice killed Quinn’s pleasure and he turned to face the other man. “It’s nothing in comparison to the night’s take,” Quinn said, wanting the boss to leave.

“Actually it means nothing without the right person to share it with.” Ari came up beside him and placed her hand around his waist, squeezing tight. “Quinn’s been showing me a good time,” she explained to Damon, gazing up at Quinn with adoring eyes.

But tension radiated from her in waves and he sensed the fact that she was acting. For his benefit, she was following directions and being cozy and nice around Damon even if she wanted to throttle the man.

“He’s a loyal employee,” Damon said. “I hope you enjoy your winnings.”

“I wish my sister was here to share them,” she added pointedly.

Quinn winced. “I was thinking of taking this celebration up to my room,” Quinn said to Ari, opting for a subject change before she could get any deeper into conversation with the man who’d ordered her sister killed.

“I’ll have a bottle of our finest champagne sent right up,” Damon said. “On the house.”

“You really are as kind as my mother said.” Ari fluttered her lashes for effect. “Thank you. But I was thinking of going home after this.” She squeezed Quinn’s waist.

“Sounds like a good plan.” He wasn’t about to argue with her, even if he didn’t know what she had in mind.

Damon nodded. “Then I’ll make sure a chilled bottle is ready to go with you. . . as well as your winnings. You can pick everything up at the window.”

Around them, security guards gathered to escort her to the cashier’s window.

Damon turned to Quinn. “Remember we’re meeting before I leave to go over the weekend plans?”

Quinn nodded and Damon took off without looking back.

Quinn let out a slow exhale. Every day was another day closer to getting this nightmare over with and being able to go home.

Only one unanswered question remained, Quinn thought, pulling Ari close. What the hell would remain of his life once the end came?

“Why don’t you want to go upstairs?” he asked, forcing himself to push reality aside in favor of Ari, his ultimate fantasy.

“You gave me a special night and I don’t just mean winning,” she said, gesturing to the slot machine behind them. Genuine appreciation glowed in her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes. “I want to do the same thing for you, and I want to do it away from here.”

She leaned so close her cheek nestled perfectly against his. He inhaled, taking in her perfume and her heat. “I can understand you wanting to get away from reminders of Damon.”

“It’s not for me.” Her hands stole around his waist and she pulled him close. “It’s for you. I want you to have a night away from this place and its tensions. I want you to have a night where you can completely be yourself.” She hugged him tight, her cheek still resting against his.

And with that innocent gesture, his heart slammed hard against his chest. She understood him in a way no one ever had. She knew, even without his explanation, that the man he was here wasn’t always the man he could be away from the job. Appreciation for her insight and gratitude for her caring overwhelmed him, and a desire that far outweighed the need for sex grew inside him.

“What do you say?” she asked softly, as if afraid she’d stepped over the line.

He separated them long enough to gaze into her eyes and stroke her cheek. “I say we go home.”

•  •  •

Nobody had ever told Ari that buying a sexy garment was one heck of a lot different than waltzing out of the bathroom wearing one. Especially when the guy she wanted to impress waited on the other side. And he was probably naked. Magnificently so, and not the least bit insecure about showing off his. . . assets. Which meant she shouldn’t be either.

Ariana might worry about what Quinn would think, but Ari wouldn’t. Not anymore than Quinn would be disappointed. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed aside any insecurities and reminded herself he cared for Ari. A lot.

With that thought in mind, she marched out of the bathroom and into Quinn’s bedroom. He waited in bed, but to her surprise, he’d turned off the overhead lights, leaving one small lamp on, more for mood than vision, while music played softly in the background.

“Only a confident man would play the Lion King soundtrack at a time like this.”

“And only a confident woman would model an outfit like that.” He eased himself up against the pillows. The white sheet fell to his waist, revealing his muscled chest and the dark sprinkling of hair that tapered down low on his abdomen, sexy and inviting.

“It’s not as easy as you might think.” She forced a laugh as she crossed the carpeted room. His words registered and she forgot all about feeling self-conscious. “What do you mean, modeling the outfit?”

He patted the mattress and she lowered herself beside him, close enough to see his eyes dilate with a now familiar need. “Do you really think you’re going to have this thing on long enough to consider it any more than a quick modeling opportunity?” He slid one fingertip beneath a single, thin strap. Teasing her, he edged it down her shoulder until it dangled there, evidence of just how easily he could divest her of this expensive but flimsy outfit.