“Beats me,” Quinn muttered.

“For weeks, Maria wanted to know everything about me. All the while we worked on the case, even after we got close, she sensed I was holding back. ‘Talk to me,’ she said. But I couldn’t.”

Quinn propped his feet on the table and leaned further back into the cushions. “This job wreaks havoc on any attempt at a social life or an intimate relationship.”

“No shit. But the case ended and I finally gave her what she’d been asking for. And I told her everything. That I was a cop. That I’d been undercover too long and I was getting out. Wouldn’t you think that would make her happy?” Connor scratched his head.

He sure as hell had thought Maria would be ecstatic at his openness, and since most women bitched about secrecy, he’d figured she’d love not having to deal with undercover work and the hell it brought into his life.

Quinn merely grunted, so Connor went on. “Well hell no, she wasn’t happy. She said she liked that I was a simple bartender. Now she says she’s got to get used to me all over again and she doesn’t know if she can do that.” He shook his head, something he’d begun to do too much of lately. “What kind of sense does that make to you?” he asked his friend.

“None,” Quinn said, without meeting his gaze, the waves in the ocean holding him captive.

Connor didn’t care. He needed a sounding board and Quinn was only too happy to pretend to listen.

“If you ask me, she’s goddamned scared,” Quinn said, finally addressing the crux of the issue.

Connor cocked his head and stopped his pacing. Quinn’s words actually made a dent in his confusion, and he wanted to hear more. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that she’s obviously scared of a committed relationship. Want to know why?” Quinn continued before Connor could reply. “Because if she admits she’s in love, then she’s got to face herself, faults and all.”

Hell, Connor thought. Who’d mentioned love? But the notion of Maria being scared, now that made sense, and Connor mulled over the possibility.

Sure, it was easy for her to let him into the fringes of her life. It was even easier for her to take the baby steps of allowing him to spend time with her kid. She could tell herself she was making a start in a relationship. After all, that was what Connor had been telling himself, too. But he’d found himself falling for the dark-haired beauty and her son, and the simple life they lived. He even found himself wanting to experience the idea of family.

His fears of doing to them what his father had done to him were beginning to evaporate. Slowly but surely, Connor was trusting himself to do right by them. He even understood why. He’d been in foster care for years, and understood dysfunction and abandonment better than most. The more time he spent with Maria, the easier Connor found it to do the opposite of what was done to him. He liked giving. He enjoyed seeing the light in Joey’s eyes when he tossed a ball and the boy caught it in Connor’s old glove. And Connor wanted to come back for more.

But once he’d started discussing his life with Maria in the hopes of starting a deeper relationship, she’d made up excuses to run.

Damned if Quinn wasn’t right. “You got a point, man. Maria is scared.”

Quinn looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Who’s talking about Maria?” he asked. “I’m telling you about Ari.”

Connor burst out laughing. So they were both lost in their own thoughts. “They’re both women, what’s the difference?”

Quinn laughed for the first time all night. “Apparently none.”

But at least Connor now had a handle on Maria, which gave him an edge in dealing with her fears and insecurities. All things he ought to understand, since he had plenty of his own. As far as the love thing Quinn mentioned, well, there was time to deal with that once Maria started thinking like a rational human being and not. . . well. . . not like a woman, he thought wryly.

•  •  •

Long after Connor left, Quinn couldn’t sleep because his bed smelled of Ari. He couldn’t relax over a beer because Ari had rearranged his kitchen. And he couldn’t figure out how to turn on ESPN because the cable company had changed stations while he’d been gone. Instead of the box being programmed to show the sports channel when he first turned it on, like it was when he lived alone, Ari had left the television on the History Channel.

Nothing was the same. Everything in his once private domain reminded him of Ari, and when he closed his eyes, she was even in his dreams.

The only place Ari wasn’t, was in Quinn’s life. And that was something he had to accept. Along with the fact that he was intricately involved in her life—or at least her family’s lives—thanks to Sam.

Which reminded him, he had a family meeting to conduct in order to make sure the Costas clan gave up their conning ways so that they could be approved as Sam’s guardians. He couldn’t allow Ari’s crazy relatives to take any unnecessary risks or plot any ridiculous schemes. He owed that to Sam even if it meant facing Ari again.

Assuming she hadn’t taken off for Vermont by now.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nicholas Costas had gone to sleep early, the drama of Zoe’s homecoming obviously wearing him out. Ari understood. She was drained herself, both physically and emotionally. But she was also elated her family was back together and whole, Zoe and now Sam included. So while her father slept, the women of the house sat around the kitchen table. Spank included.

Her mother had insisted Aunt Dee sneak the monkey over to be included in the family gathering. To Ari’s shock, Zoe and Spank didn’t seem to get along. When Zoe turned her back, Spank stuck out her tongue. And when Zoe tried to speak, Spank made loud, rude noises just to be the one that got attention. Ari had never seen anything like it.

“It’s so good to have all my girls home,” Elena said, echoing what their father had said earlier.

“It’s good to be home. You can’t imagine what it was like to be stuck in that house for weeks on end,” Zoe said, but as soon as she spoke, Spank began to bang a spoon on the table. Loudly.

Elena sighed. “She’s just jealous. She always felt she had to compete for attention when Zoe’s around because—”

“Zoe likes to talk?” Sam asked, giggling.

Zoe grabbed a napkin, rolled it into a ball, and tossed it at Sam. “Can it, Squirt.”

Sam wrinkled her nose at Zoe, but the love and longing in the young girl’s eyes would have been painful were it not unconditionally guaranteed to be reciprocated by anyone and everyone in the Costas house. Even Zoe, who’d only been home a few hours. At least those two would get along just fine, Ari thought, smiling.




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