“I’m glad I have your seal of approval.”
The girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I haven’t decided that yet.”
“Well, I’m Ariana and I’m a friend of Quinn’s. Who are you?” Who was this child to Quinn? Ariana wondered.
The girl came up beside Ariana. “Nobody important.”
Ariana’s heart squeezed tight in her chest. “You’re wrong or you wouldn’t know Quinn.” She didn’t know how or why she knew that to be true. She just did.
“He’s okay,” the kid said, grudgingly.
“Okay” seemed to be the operative word of the moment. Before they could continue their conversation, Quinn stormed out of the house, slamming the screen door behind him. He ran down the steps, nearly barreling into Ariana. “Ari,” he said, surprised.
She felt Sam bump her from the other side, then Quinn’s hands came out and grabbed her forearms tightly. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you to wait in the car.” His eyes appeared darker than before, as if a black cloud had settled over him.
“I needed fresh air and I was just talking to—” Ariana glanced around, but the teenager had disappeared. No sign of the baseball hat in the bushes, either. “Someone,” she muttered.
“Well, let’s get the hell out of here.” Obviously upset, he led her to the car and headed out of the neighborhood and back toward Atlantic City and the casino.
“I met a friend of yours,” Ariana said into the oppressive silence. He hadn’t even turned on the car radio. “But she wouldn’t give me her name.”
“It’s Sam.” His fingers clenched the steering wheel tighter.
“Your sister?” she hazarded a guess, though she hadn’t noticed a resemblance between Quinn and the young girl beyond the sandy hair color.
He shook his head. “McDonald’s okay with you?”
“It’s fine. Look, I don’t want to pry into your private life—”
“Then don’t.”
“But she was upset and so are you. And I’m a good listener.”
Quinn pulled into the drive-through of a McDonald’s rest stop off the Garden State Parkway , then leaned one arm over the back of her seat and glanced her way. “If you miss psychology so much, why don’t you go back to teaching and leave me alone?” he asked without much heat in his voice.
“Because it’s so much more fun bothering you.”
“Can I help you?” a voice asked through the microphone.
Quinn placed their orders without asking her preference, drove around to the window, and took the bags, handing them to Ariana to sort through. She didn’t think it was wise to argue with him right now, so she let him pay.
She bit into her hamburger and watched as he did the same. He’d been distracted since leaving the house and she wanted to know why. More, she wanted to help him deal with what was bothering him. Not just because it would be a good distraction from her own problems, but because she liked him better when he was smiling. But she couldn’t figure out a way to get him to open up, so she munched on a french fry in silence.
Since she obviously wasn’t going to get any info rmation out of Quinn by pumping him, she remained quiet the rest of the way to Damon’s, and five minutes later the glittering lights of the casino came into view.
Instead of leaving the truck with the doormen at the front, Quinn pulled around back and into the garage, circling around till he reached his reserved spot in the back. Ariana crumpled her wrapper and put all her garbage into the bag, then reached for the door handle.
“Sam’s in foster care.”
Ariana swallowed hard. “It looks like a nice house. Is she with a good family?” She pivoted back to look at Quinn, holding her breath.
His brows furrowed over and he shook his head. “I thought so.”
“But?”
“The wife’s pregnant and they aren’t sure they want to keep a troubled kid around now.”
Ariana thought back on her initial exchange with the young girl. Who are you? Ariana had asked. Nobody important. Ariana winced. “That’s. . . that’s . . .” she sputtered, unable to come up with an appropriate comment to something so unspeakably sad.
“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.