Page 103 of The Oscar Escape
“It would be my pleasure, dear. We should say goodbye now. You have a wedding night ahead of you. I’ll be in touch regarding Miss Ivy and my arrival in your neck of the woods.”
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Madelyn.”
“One last thing, Madelyn. Did you predict that Oscar and I would be a match?” Aria asked, her voice laden with expectations.
“You know that’s not how it works,” the woman answered with a sly twitch of her lips. “I’m simply a—”
“Facilitator of fate,” everyone in the kitchen belted, answering for the woman.
Ivy returned to the center of the frame. “Bye, Ozzy Bear! Bye, Aria! We love you,” his sister called.
The screen went black.
He tightened his hold on his wife as if he were worried the breeze might carry her away.
“Don’t be mad, Ozzy Bear,” Aria teased, but her tone held a whisper of unease. “I know this might sound a little crazy, but I had a feeling our families were thinking of us when we were reciting our vows. Almost like they could sense what was happening. Or maybe it was me, thinking of them while we exchanged vows so they could be a part of the moment.”
“I’m not mad. I’m glad they know. I want them to know. And it’ll be good to see Ivy. She loves the arts. Attending an island arts festival will make her day.”
“What would make your day, Mr. Paige-Grant?” she purred and kissed his cheek.
He tucked away the intrusive thoughts that had once haunted him. He wouldn’t be resurrecting the ghosts of his past. Tonight was about them—a married couple—right here, on this slice of heaven.
He eyed the picnic basket, and with the tip of his foot, he opened the lid. Aria couldn’t see it from her vantage point, which was a good thing.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
“Bossy, Mr. Paige-Grant. I like it.”
He helped her to her feet. “Don’t move.”
He reached into the basket and removed one of the items.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “You better not be ditching me.”
“Ditch you? Never. I’m preparing to take my wife to the creakiest bed on this island, and we’re sealing the deal on this marriage. And we’re doing it lobster style.”
“What does that even mean, Oscar? Do you have lobster fever like the rest of this place?” she asked, her voice girlish and giggly.
He donned the item. “Open your eyes.”
She complied and then broke out into a rollicking belly laugh. “We get our own masks. You don’t think they want us to . . .”
“Get freaky-deeky while pretending to be lobsters?”
“Well, yeah.”
He raised the mask and rested it on top of his head. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with them. But we’ll do what we do best.”
Her gaze glittered with love and mischief. “And what’s that?”
He lifted her into his arms and twirled her around. “Mrs. Elliott, we’re going to fly by the seat of our pants and make it up as we go.”
Chapter19
ARIA
“Happy birthday, Mrs. Elliott,” Oscar purred in his gravelly morning voice.
