Under the Boardwalk (Costas Sisters 1)

“Exactly.” Quinn shut the car down. “I knew this family. I handpicked them. I introduced them to Sam and I fought to get her placed there.” He slammed his fist on the steering wheel in obvious frustration.

She covered his hand with hers, offering comfort the only way she could. “What’s your relationship to Sam? To the family?”

He met her gaze and slowly started to reveal more. “Sam’s a kid I met at the rec center downtown. Felice and Aaron are a couple I met over at Ocean Isle Medical,” he said, naming the town’s main hospital. “They couldn’t have kids and Sam needed a stable family before her petty stealing and antics for attention ended with her in a juvenile detention center. I thought it was a good mix.”

Damon’s right-hand man, hanging out at the youth center? Ariana desperately wanted insight into this man, but the more he revealed, the less she seemed to understand. She couldn’t connect the dots. “What were you doing at the rec center?” she asked.

“Trying to give something to kids who feel like the whole world’s against them.” He spoke as if he knew the feeling.

And then she recalled his comment about his foster mothers and home cooking. Ariana’s heart filled as she realized just why Quinn cared so much. He’d once been the scared, lonely child Sam was now.

A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead. She wanted to touch yet was afraid to destroy the moment. “Nobody can fault you for trying, Quinn.”

“No, but I sure as hell can fault myself for screwing up at Sam’s expense.” He jerked his hand out of her grasp. “Let’s go.” He withdrew not just his hand but the fragile connection they’d started to share.

Quinn rushed through the back entrance to the casino with Ari on his heels. The faster he put her in Connor’s hands, the faster he could get back to his undercover reality. A reality that was jeopardized by the woman with the big green eyes, who looked at him with compassion and understanding, not pity.

One simple touch and she had him spilling his guts. If he slept with her, he’d probably admit he was a cop and give her directions to Zoe. She lowered his defenses that much. Damn.

“It’s a good thing I changed into sneakers,” she said, running up behind him. “Where’s the fire?”

“You’re the one who was worried about getting to your job.” But as they reached the bar, he slowed his step because there was safety in a crowd. With Connor behind the bar, Maria and a few other waitresses serving customers, and the beginnings of the dinner crowd filling the chairs, Quinn didn’t have to worry about being alone with Ari and revealing secrets he didn’t want her to know.

“Looking mighty fine tonight, Ariana.” Connor’s gaze raked over Ari in a way much too possessive for Quinn’s liking.

She glanced nervously over her shoulder to where Maria was waiting on a table, before turning back to Connor with a smile. “Thanks.” She reached for an apron behind the bar and tied the knot behind her back.

Obviously she’d figured out there was something between Connor and Maria—or at least that Connor wanted there to be. Or maybe she was just having problems with the other waitress. It didn’t matter and it wasn’t Quinn’s problem. Better she get frustrated and quit, he told himself.

Now that he had Ari settled, it was time to go. He leaned close to Connor. “She’s all yours, buddy.”

His friend raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I have business to take care of, so I’m outta here.” Quinn turned and bumped into Ari.

She’d placed herself there deliberately, he’d bet, and they now stood chest to chest, their faces inches apart. She wasn’t moving out of his way, almost daring him to face her or duck around.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She shook her hair out behind her, the act bringing a whiff of fragrance to the air and a gut-clenching tightening in his belly.

“Just thanking you properly for the ride.” She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, fingers laced at his back, which had the effect of rocking her hips against him.

“Ari,” he said in warning.

“Quinn,” she mimicked in reply, a calculating, mischievous look in her eyes as she rose onto her tiptoes. If she was nervous, she hid it better than the other night, and before he could object, she sealed her mouth over his.

His body recognized hers, molding perfectly. He fit into the cradle of her hips while she kissed him and he responded, their mouths in a moist, heated, synchronized rhythm. As if they’d done this many times before. Many, many times before. And damn but she was good. He cupped his hand around her neck, angled his head and thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth until she moaned from deep in her chest.