Under the Boardwalk

excuse, since she’d been busy arranging the leave of absence she’d already told Quinn she’d taken. She’d also had to explain her sudden disappearance to her friends and colleagues, all things she wasn’t ready to discuss with her mother.

Ariana glanced out the window. Quinn was on his way to the front door. “I promise I’ll look at the family’s plans in the morning, okay?” Though why they needed Ariana’s approval when they’d never had it before was beyond her.

Disappointment flickered in her mother’s eyes at the same time the doorbell rang.

“I’ve got to go. We’ll talk in the morning?” Ariana kissed her mother on the cheek.

“Of course we’ll talk in the morning.” Elena strode around her and grabbed the door handle, taking control. “But I want to meet your friend before you go.”

Ariana let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m over eighteen.”

But it was too late. Elena opened the door and came face-to-face with Quinn. “I remember you,” she said, a welcoming smile taking hold.

Quinn grinned right back. A warm greeting that, for Ariana, was devastating in its intensity. Heaven help her if he ever turned that warmth and happiness her way, and her stomach did a triple flip at the thought.

“And I remember you. How has Damon’s best dancer been?” Quinn asked Elena.

“You flatter me.” Her mother bought into his charm and actually blushed. “I’d be fine if it weren’t for Zoe’s situation. But you know that.”

Quinn winced, his discomfort over the mention of her missing sister obvious.

“Come in from the cold.” Grabbing Quinn’s hand, Elena pulled him inside.

Ariana glanced at her mother and, for the first time, realized that Elena wasn’t dressed as Morticia. Instead she wore black pants and a black turtleneck sweater. Relief washed over Ariana.

Her mother wagged a scolding finger her way. “Ari, you didn’t tell me you met Quinn. Shame on you.”

Unsure what to say, Ariana merely shrugged, and over Elena’s continued chatter about how she, Zoe, and Quinn knew one another, Ariana met Quinn’s gaze. His eyes appeared darker, his expression upset. Obviously he was uncomfortable with conversation that included talk of her sister.

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 idiosyncracies 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 cliche, 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.

All except Ariana, who shook her head and shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.

An unfamiliar lump of emotion welled in the back of his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

In reply, Nicholas pulled him into a bear hug. Another gesture so different from any Quinn knew well. Before he could become too complacent, he felt a tingle in the area of his back pocket, and a sense of disappointment pricked him deep inside, in his heart. Though he’d been forewarned of their tendencies, he still couldn’t believe they’d turn their tricks on an unsuspecting guest of their daughter’s.

Once Nicholas released him, Quinn stepped back and studied the family, wondering how to confront them. With a shrug, he opted for the direct approach. “Whoever took my wallet, I’d appreciate it if you’d give it back now.” Quinn held out his hand and waited.

Elena sighed. “I told you it was too soon, Nicky.”

A woman with her dark hair in long braids shrugged and said, “Back to the drawing board.”

But no one seemed as upset at being caught as they were by the fact that whoever’d done the deed still hadn’t perfected their technique.

“Well?” Quinn asked. “My wallet?”

Ari moaned. “Turn around, Quinn,” she said, her voice dull and resigned.