Page 139 of The Oscar Escape
“Do what?” she asked, working like hell to keep her sass mask in place.
“Put on a feisty front when she was worried about making the wrong decision.”
Aria pursed her lips, attempting to dial up the sass factor.
Her uncle gave her another once-over. “It would be much easier to take your eat-worms face seriously if you weren’t dressed like a lobster fanatic.”
Dammit!She couldn’t maintain her dour countenance after a comment like that. She sighed. “I like my lobster look, and I like it at the cemetery. I like being close to my mom and dad. It’s peaceful and a good place to think.”
“It is,” Landon agreed.
She nudged a few leaves with the tip of her boot. “Thanks for smoothing things over with Cupid Bakery. It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Tanner’s a great guy. Luckily, he owes me one. And it’s good to see your scowling face, too.” He tapped the tip of her nose.
She chuckled. “Eat worms, sucker,” she said, but the words didn’t carry their usual bite.
Landon surveyed the scenery. “We should talk about what comes next for you. I figured you might need a ride unless you were planning on expanding your grand theft auto skills and were hoping to steal a hearse to get to your next stop.”
She laughed again, grateful to release a little tension.
Back in the day, her tall, dark, and handsome uncle had been dubbed the heartthrob—a dreamy rock star. But what most people missed was his perceptiveness and razor-sharp wit. They usually attributed those skills to her aunt Harper. But Uncle Landy could sure come up with some good zingers when needed.
She gestured to the sprawling grounds. “I could use a ride. This place is dead—no pun intended. No burials means no hearses to hot-wire.” She’d delivered the snarky reply, but that didn’t stop her throat from thickening with emotion. “The problem is, I’m not sure where I want to go.”
The breeze picked up, and she shivered.
“Here.” Her uncle removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Have I ever told you I was scared out of my mind when I saw your parents’ will and learned that your mom and dad wanted me to raise you?”
She shrugged. “That seems like a pretty natural response. I was a piece of work.”
“Was?” he teased, but there was nothing but love in his expression.
He picked up the violin case, handed her the notebook, then pressed his hand to the small of her back and guided her around the hedge. He stopped in front of her parents’ headstones. “Back then, I was trying to reinvent my sound. I didn’t know who I was supposed to be. And then your aunt Harper and I—”
“Got married on a whim in Vegas surrounded by drunk ballerinas and guys dressed like meathead gladiators. I’ve seen the ridiculous video,” she supplied.
“Ridiculous?” the man chuckled. “I’ve been told you got married surrounded by people dressed like lobsters. It appears unique nuptials run in the family.”
She stared at her boots. “My marriage wasn’t real. It wasn’t legal. We never filled out the form or paid the fee.”
“Regardless of the paperwork, the smile on your face looked real on that video call.”
She peered at the man. “Do you know what happened between Oscar and me?”
“I talked to Mitch earlier today.”
“Mitch? Did Oscar tell his dad about our . . . ?” She trailed off.
Their what? Their falling out? Their giant fight? The complete and total destruction of their relationship?
Whatever the description, she couldn’t seem to form the words.
She tried again. “Is Oscar . . .”
Again, she locked up.
Was he happy? Was he sad? Had he split town to chase another escape? Did he miss her? Was he thinking of her at this exact moment?
