Page 47 of The Oscar Escape
“You know the Aldens,” Aria said—more like accused—as she lowered her left hand.
He focused on his mother’s ring. “Yeah, and so do you.”
“You know what I mean, Oscar. Quit the doublespeak and answer the question.”
It was a fool’s errand to play stupid with her. Still, between barely having slept for the last handful of weeks and the stress of trying to keep this woman out of trouble, he could hardly string a cohesive thought together—especially not with his heart racing and his body jonesing for a hit of nicotine.
“How about this?” she offered in a deceptively pleasant tone. “The design of this ring—your mother’s ring with its wavy twists of gold and silver—is identical to the design etched onto the legs of the driftwood bench. That cannot be a coincidence. Stop lying to me, Oscar, and tell me what you’ve done.”
“I’m not lying—not really.”Shit!He raked his hands through his hair, then reached in his pocket for his smokes. He’d never needed a cigarette more in his entire life.
“You’re smoking again?” she exclaimed at the pack’s appearance. “I thought I smelled a hint of tobacco.”
Her outrage at his bad habit was the least of his worries.
He shook the packet and cursed when he found it empty. “Apparently, not anymore.” He crumpled the packet and shoved it deep into his pocket. He peered over his shoulder at the inn. Everyone that had attended Aria’s hearing had spilled onto the porch. While the wind would make it hard for the bystanders to hear them, it was obvious they were arguing. He gestured with his chin toward the people. “We’re not doing this here,” he said and reached for her hand.
“You don’t get to decide where we dothis.” She batted away his hand and stormed off, which, infuriatingly, was exactly what he’d wanted her to do.
Even when she agreed with him, she was damned disagreeable.
“Are you going to fight me on everything?” he called as the wind whipped his cheeks.
Mid-stride, she turned on her red-booted heel. “Yes, I am.”
Lightning crackled. It illuminated the blanket of ominous, dark clouds over the open sea. The storm was growing closer by the second as thunder grumbled. This wasn’t the weather for island exploration. And speaking of exploration, where the hell was Aria headed?
The trail split and she veered up the path toward Havenmatch Island’s lighthouse.Why, Aria, why?He shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, she’d choose the route leading to the highest point on the island. It was most likely the best place to frequent if one wanted to experience excruciating electrocution, which might be less painful than attempting to stop the walking tornado that was Aria Paige-Grant.
“This isn’t safe, Aria!”
“Then go back to the inn.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Enjoy the view,” she called and swished her hips like she was walking the runway at a fashion show. And what a damned glorious view it was. He couldn’t help it when his gaze landed on her ass, wrapped in snug-fitting denim. Unable to stop himself, he recalled pressing his cock against her. The rhythm of their bodies writhing beneath the sheets imprinted on his soul. Half-awake, he’d believed it was a dream when he slipped his hand inside her panties and found her so wet—so wet and all for him. He inhaled a tight breath and willed away the images. If he wasn’t careful, thoughts like that could lead to . . . a normal penis thing.
God help him.Even that ridiculous term had him half-cocked.
“If you’re sticking around, you can tell me about the ferry,” Aria called.
“What about the ferry?” he stammered, then concentrated on the ground. He couldn’t allow her to catch him ogling her ass. He pulled himself together and jogged up to her.
“This is a tiny island. I’m guessing a few dozen residents reside here,” she said and lowered her cap.
“What does that have to do with the goddamn ferry?” he asked with a sexually frustrated and emotionally exhausted bend to the words.
“It must have taken a couple of hours for us to get to Maine last night. And we left late. It had to be around midnight. I doubt there’s a scheduled two a.m. ferry stop on the mainland. Etta’s the ferry captain. You must have coordinated our arrival with her and Del.”
He huffed an exasperated breath and found her watching him closely.
A smirk graced her lips. “Yep, I knew I was right about that.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to. You huffed,” she replied with an exaggerated flick of her wrist.
“You do a lot to make me huff,” he huffed.Dammit!
