Under the Boardwalk (Costas Sisters 1)

Well, damn him, if he could ease her mother’s pain and chose not to, he should be uncomfortable. If Ariana had proof to back up his claim, she’d tell her mother that Zoe was alive herself.

“Come inside,” Elena said to Quinn, finally changing the subject.

Ariana shook her head. “We need to go or we’ll be late for our reservation,” she said pointedly. Her mom didn’t need to know she’d taken a job at Damon’s and have reason to worry about another daughter’s safety.

“We have a few minutes to catch up,” Quinn said.

Ariana shot him a dirty look.

“I always liked you,” Elena said to Quinn.

“The feeling’s mutual.” He clasped her hand, the genuineness in his gaze all too real.

He obviously liked her mother, which didn’t surprise her. With her warmth and effusive personality, everyone loved Elena. It was the family’s overall dynamic that Ariana wanted to avoid.

As if reading Ariana’s thoughts, her mother said, “Come meet the family.”

Ariana cringed, but nobody seemed to notice as Quinn allowed himself be led into the kitchen. Ariana followed behind them, the dread in her stomach reminiscent of the times she’d brought friends home. Their laughter and snide comments would linger in her heart and mind long after the girls had left. Not for Zoe, who seemed both oblivious to her family’s idiosyncrasies and untouched by teen angst. She’d always envied her twin that ability.

The chatter got louder as they approached the kitchen. The family remained huddled around the table, looking at plans. Aunt Dee had a book open in front of her, but Ariana couldn’t see what she was reading.

Elena clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “I’d like you all to meet our guest. Everyone, this is Quinn, a friend of Ariana’s,” she said, pointedly omitting her own connection to Quinn. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Since she’d kissed that gorgeous face, Ariana was doubly mortified. She glanced at Quinn, who stood beside her, and realized he’d turned red in a full-blown blush. Ariana would take gratification where she could find it. At least she wasn’t alone in her embarrassment.

Quinn waved a general greeting and glanced around at the people in the kitchen. He’d obviously intruded on a family gathering, and an uncomfortable edge gnawed at his stomach. He glanced at Ari, who didn’t appear particularly thrilled either. His attention was divided between the people around him and the woman he’d kissed. He had spent long hours last night reliving that kiss and deciding how to deal with Ari. Around dawn, he’d decided that keeping her off balance and aggravated was his best plan. Anything to prevent her from getting too close—or him from wanting to get even closer.

Before turning his attention to meeting each person individually, he leaned closer to Ari and put his plan into action. “Miss me, babe?”

“Like a bad habit,” she muttered.

He grinned. “For a college professor, you’ve got a lot of spunk.”

Before she could reply, her family pushed her out of the way. They all gathered close, speaking to him at the same time. He couldn’t hear their names, which was fine since it wasn’t likely he’d remember even if they’d all been individually introduced.

Despite Zoe’s preparing him, Quinn was shook up now. Coming from foster homes where no one gave a damn who came or went, he found this huge conglomeration of interested faces was disconcerting. He glanced at Ariana for reassurance, but she’d been moved to the outside of the group, and damned if she didn’t look more uncomfortable than he felt.

Then again, she was the twin who’d hightailed it to Vermont and hadn’t looked back until now. Though a part of him could understand the need for space, a bigger part of him wondered why she didn’t value this family unit she was so lucky to have.

“Quinn.” A large, bald man stepped toward him. “Irish?” he asked.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Dad, leave him alone,” Ari said.

“That’s okay.” Quinn turned to the older man he’d met once or twice before at the casino when Elena was dancing there. “I’m honestly not sure. I don’t know much about my heritage.”

His mother had been the quintessential cliché, a drug addict whose bed had been a revolving door for men who paid for her services, which supported her habit. He supposed his father had been one of her paying clients, with no name, no forwarding address. His mother had OD’d one day, which came as no surprise to Quinn, considering the life she’d lived.

Ari’s father shook his head. “A damn shame, not knowing your roots. But lack of knowledge means there might just be Greek blood in you yet.” Hope and pride infused his tone. “What’s your last name?”

“Donovan.” At least that’s what his mother claimed on his birth certificate.

“Good to meet you, Quinn Donovan. I’m Nicholas. Ariana’s father. Welcome to my home.” He slapped Quinn on the back in a way that made him feel accepted, especially since the rest of the family looked on, nodding their approval.