She narrowed her gaze and started muttering in Greek.
Ariana knew the signs of a storm brewing, as did Aunt Dee, who buried her nose in the Idiot book while Uncle John began whistling quietly and gathered together the floor plans for the house.
Ariana had watched this scene play out many times since she was a child. “I can sleep on the couch if you need my bed, Dad.”
Quinn chuckled.
“Laugh now, but a Greek woman’s anger knows no bounds.” Nicholas imparted those words of wisdom, patted Quinn on the back, and then turned his attention to his wife, who’d folded her arms across her chest. “Aah, agape mou.”
He murmured the term of endearment but Elena wasn’t buying it and she slapped his hand. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me. What did you do with my drink? You didn’t pour it down the sink, did you?” She shook her head. “No, because that would be a waste when there are starving people in the world.” She pulled open the refrigerator door.
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Nicholas said, warning Quinn.
“There’s none here,” Elena said.
Nicholas sighed. “I gave it to Spank,” he admitted.
“Oh, for the love of . . .” Elena trailed off. All traces of elegance gone in the face of her anger, she slammed the appliance door closed and stomped over to the monkey. “So tell me, did you like my drink? The secret ingredient is one my ancestors swore would restore youth and vitality. I plan to use it in some version at the spa.”
Spank bared her teeth in an ugly smile, then smacked her lips together and blew Elena a raspberry.
“She liked it,” Elena said, obviously feeling validated.
“Actually she felt much better after I gave her some Pepto,” Aunt Dee said.
“Traitor,” Elena muttered.
Aunt Dee waved away her sister’s words. “Kiss and make up,” she ordered, pushing Nicholas and Elena together.
From past experience, Ariana knew things could go one of two ways. Her mother would either turn and walk out, leaving her father on the couch for the night, or they’d retreat to the bedroom, everyone and everything else forgotten, and stay there for hours.
Personally, Ariana had never met a man whose company she wanted in her bed for all that long. In hindsight not even she and Jeffrey had shared the passion her parents still did, leaving her to wonder if she’d find it with any man.
Her gaze fell on Quinn and electricity crackled inside her.
At the same time, her father’s hand came around her mother’s back, pulling her close. He whispered in Elena’s ear, something only she could hear.
The next few seconds were critical, so Ariana held her breath and counted to three. Elena whirled around, but instead of storming out, she touched Nicholas’s hand. “If you’re serious, you can make it up to me. Come. Now.” She turned, head held high, and walked out of the kitchen and stormed up the stairs.
Nicholas grinned. “It’s the best part of fighting, is it not?” Then, not caring that they had an audience, or perhaps performing for them, Nicholas headed out the door, following in his wife’s footsteps.
Embarrassed as she always was at their display, Ariana turned around for sympathetic nods from Aunt Dee and Uncle John, but sometime during her parents’ show, they’d disappeared, leaving Ariana alone. With Quinn.
The one man she could see keeping in her bed for a long time to come.
Chapter Five
I thought we were having dinner with your parents,” Quinn said as he started the truck outside Ari’s house. “Elena said she was cooking.” Much as he hated to admit it, he’d been looking forward to a home-cooked meal.
“You actually sound disappointed.” Ari shook her head in obvious amazement. “I’m sorry, Quinn, but my mother had you fooled. She’s not a traditional Greek woman.”
“I never mistook Elena for traditional. I just thought when she said she’d cook, she meant it.”
“Obviously you don’t know my mother’s version of cooking.”
“Any version of home cooking would be a damn sight more appetizing than the stuff that any of my foster mothers used to serve.” Realizing how much he’d given away, Quinn quickly shifted topics. “So tell me what Elena meant.”
Ari rolled her head to the side, meeting his gaze. In her eyes, Quinn saw questions. He clenched the steering wheel tight. No matter that he’d brought up the subject, it wasn’t one he wanted to get into.
“My mother makes a phone call and dinner is delivered from the Greek diner in town,” she explained.
Whether Ari read his mind or simply skimmed the topic of his past on purpose, he didn’t know. But he was grateful. “Greek diner. Why am I not surprised?” he asked, laughing.
She chuckled. “Aunt Kassie owns the diner.”
“I’ll have to check it out one day.”
“Be nice to me and maybe I’ll take you.” She not so subtly walked her fingers across the back of his seat until she reached his collar and dipped her hand into his shirt.