Under the Boardwalk (Costas Sisters 1)

And speaking of aggravating, Quinn had made himself suspiciously scarce last night. Though Ariana should be grateful he wasn’t underfoot as he’d threatened, she’d found herself watching for him all evening and was disappointed he hadn’t shown up, except to drive her home. She suspected he’d tapped Connor as his eyes in the casino while Quinn himself made sure she didn’t snoop around before or after her shift.

Which left her with only one way to get information about her sister. She needed to make friends with Maria. Ariana had an idea or two about how to take care of the other woman’s sour opinion of Ariana, and it involved using Quinn. Quinn, who’d tried to maintain distance by not talking during the trip to and from the casino. Quinn, who’d walked her to the door, and whose hazel eyes had golden sparks as they’d stared into hers beneath the porch light.

He’d leaned forward, coming close. She’d seen the conflicting struggle going on in his mind, the desire to kiss her again as all-consuming for him as it was for her. He’d been about to give in. She knew it, and then the damn monkey had tapped on the window and waved, a big grin on his ugly face.

Aunt Dee had pulled him away, but the damage had been done. The moment had passed. Quinn had had time to think and regain control, while Ariana realized her family had been spying on them the entire time. Déjà vu all over again, she thought wryly.

Rolling to her side now, Ariana checked the clock on the nightstand, shocked to discover it was almost noon. She hadn’t slept so late since . . . well, since the last time she’d pulled cocktail waitress duty back in college. But she didn’t have all day to luxuriate, because some shopping was definitely in order. Though Damon’s had a uniform, she needed a comfortable pair of shoes or she’d never make it through her second shift.

The buzz coming from downstairs told her that her nosy family was already up and about. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to deal with them yet. She had no idea what they had planned, but she’d find out soon enough.

Ariana showered and slipped out the door before her mother could interrogate her about the trip to Damon’s, or worse, her daughter’s dealings with or feelings for Quinn.

So maybe she was a coward but Ariana stayed out all afternoon, coming home close enough to four o’clock that she didn’t have time to talk to anyone before Quinn’s arrival. After a quick change of clothes, she packed up her uniform in an overly large handbag, smoothed her black skirt, took a deep breath, and headed down the stairs to face the troops, only to find out someone had already let Quinn inside and led him to the kitchen.

Ariana joined them, watching as each family member welcomed Quinn as if he were an old friend, which he might well be, since he’d apparently worked with Zoe at the casino. Despite the warmth flowing through the room, Zoe’s absence was obvious to Ariana, not just physically, but in the forced way her family pushed themselves through their day.

As for Quinn, though he seemed wary about the family at first, he warmed up quickly, and it was obvious her relatives liked what they saw. So did Ariana. Faded denim molded over his behind, and his broad shoulders were covered by the same leather jacket he’d worn last night. His hair was just long enough to skim the collar and make her fingers itch to run through it. He was a man comfortable in his own skin, while in contrast, here she was in her parents’ house, uncomfortable in hers.

“Hi.” She spoke over the loud voices.

Quinn’s gaze met hers. Pleasure and happiness flickered in his normally dark gaze. It lasted a second, but long enough to fill her heart before her mother pulled her into her family’s midst. “Ariana, we have a surprise for you. Look at what we’ve got planned.”

Feeling off balance from Quinn’s reaction, she focused on the table where the plans she’d seen the other day had been unrolled again. “What is this?” she asked.

“A day spa,” Aunt Dee answered. Today Ariana’s aunt was wearing a brightly colored kimono. Unlike Elena, when Aunt Dee wasn’t in character as Wednesday Addams, she refused to wear the color black. Waving her hand toward the plans, Aunt Dee asked, “So, what do you think?”

Ariana thought she was in another dimension. “What do you all know about running a spa?”

“Nothing we can’t figure out from some good old-fashioned research. See?” Uncle John pulled a book from beneath Aunt Dee’s hands.

“The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Self-Healing with Spas and Retreats,” Ariana read aloud. “Oh Lord.”

Quinn’s chuckle reverberated around the room but no one seemed to notice. They were too preoccupied to care about his reaction.