Page 46 of The Oscar Escape
That was a strange way to put it. Then again, strange was par for the course on this island.
She held M. Gibson Harpswell’s gaze, injecting a healthy serving of her signature sass vibe into the makeshift courtroom. “All right,Mr.Retired Judge, I agree to your terms.” He might have backed her into a corner, but he needed to know she wasn’t one to go quietly. “Is thishearingover?”
Locked in a staring war, the judge didn’t break their connection.
Was he enjoying this?
“Island court is adjourned,” he said, flicking his gaze away with one hell of a cat-who-ate-the-canary expression.
It was time to blow this kangaroo court.
Channeling her rock star diva skills, she sprang to her feet. In a flurry of bluster and bravado, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. The legs of her chair skidded against the hardwood. Feeling all eyes on her, she turned toward the townspeople who’d come to gobble up her public flogging. She was used to crowds adoring her, but not one person cracked a smile.
What did these people want from her? Oh, forget them! She’d wear the stupid lobster panties, figure out a way to whittle down her community service, then get her ass off that godforsaken island.
She tightened her grip on Oscar’s hand. “We need to talk,husband,” she seethed and led him past the driftwood bench and out the closest exit. Once outside and a good fifty yards from the inn, she dropped his hand. “You need to start talking.”
“Okay, how about this for talking? You were a real piece of work in the courtroom. I told you to smile and keep your mouth shut. Do you think we’re back in grade school, and it’s Opposite Day?”
He was attempting to pull the I’m-a-scary-tough-guy card. When would he get it through his thick skull? His antics didn’t work on her.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. It had to be nature echoing her wrath.
She parted her lips, prepared to tell him to eat worms, but paused as the two men who’d carried the bench into the makeshift courtroom passed them with the driftwood item in their hands. She eyed the overlapping carvings in the legs, then gasped and forgot about her tirade.
And what would stop her dead in her tracks?
She recognized the design on the bench.
And then it clicked.
Disbelief hit her like a bucket of seawater to the face. “You know this place, Oscar. You’ve been here before. I know you have.”
The man didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t blink. But he couldn’t shut her out.
She held up her left hand and flipped him off, not with her middle finger—though he deserved it—but with her ring finger. “TheHandMetched into this ring don’t stand forHolly Marie.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “What the hell else would it stand for?”
She’d rattled him. Good!
Taking her time, she eyed the dark clouds and listened to the gulls’ frantic and frenzied calls. The weather was turning, but the real storm was brewing in Oscar’s eyes.
She had him right where she wanted him.
It was time to call his bluff.
“These letters,” she said and wiggled her ring finger, “stand for one thing.”
The storm in his eyes intensified. “What do you think they stand for?”
She squared her jaw and stood her ground. “Hfor haven andMfor match.”
Chapter10
OSCAR
Oscar’s heart leaped into his throat. Of course, this woman—this maddeningly intelligent and wickedly observant woman—would put it together. With the clouds rolling in, the island breeze had picked up. The wind whistled a foreboding tune through the nearby brush. The sound wove its way through the cries of the gulls. It entwined with the creaks of boats bobbing in the harbor and meshed with the lapping claps of the waves smashing against the rocky coastline. It was as if the island was ramping up for a fight—and a whopper of a brawl, at that.
