I’ve never been anywhere on the West Coast, but I don’t tell him that, I merely shake my head.
He nods like I gave him the answer he expected. I expect him to tell me how nice it is, to try and entice me with a vision of crystal waters and warm sun beating down on me as I play in the shallows outside some lavish resort I could never afford to go to without him.
Instead, he says, “It’s an unusual lake, toxic for nearly every creature that has ever tried to live there. The water is highly alkaline and saltier than the ocean. Aside from shrimp, no fish can survive there. Birds can’t tolerate it, either. On the way to the lake, you’ll see the carcasses of ones that tried. But for a particular kind of fly—alkali flies—it’s home. The only home that suits them now, as a matter of fact. See, ordinary flies would drown in such salty water, but these ones have adapted to their admittedly challenging environment. They’ve evolved to be able to dive under the water without getting wet. They’re able to make their own little air bubble to protect them so they can crawl under to feed or lay their eggs. The lake is an impossible place that kills all life that tries to inhabit it, but these special flies… they’ve brought life to it. They’ve found a way to thrive in its challenging climate. They’ve made the lake their home.” His gaze meets mine with more intensity than I’m prepared for given the topic. “If not for these extraordinary flies, Hallie, the beautiful but toxic lake would be almost entirely barren.”
I swallow hard. I’m not an idiot, I understand the parallel he’s drawing. “You think I’m the fly in this scenario.”
His lips quirk. “Well, you’re certainly not the toxic lake.”
I drop my gaze, fidgeting with the corner of my pillow so I don’t have to look at him. “‘You’re a fly,’” I say, doing my best to lighten the mood a little. “That’s almost unbearably romantic. You should write greeting cards.”
“Not just any fly,” he says, amusement laced in his tone. “You’re my fly.”
I try to bite back a smile, but fail. I look up at him. “You’re insane, you know that?”
He could be offended, but he’s not. “So I’ve heard.”
My amusement brings him pleasure, or maybe it’s just my presence. Whatever the reason, I can’t deny I feel intensely admired when I’m around him—to the point of sheer lunacy, even. In my wildest dreams of how much a man would want me, I could never have dreamed up one willing to go to the lengths he will to have me.
He doesn’t play fair, but I can’t deny he certainly makes me feel valued.
The way I’ve always dreamed about feeling with the man I would marry.
He may not be exactly what I imagined for myself—okay, not remotely what I envisioned, but it’s hard to deny that I am drawn to him, even if he’s a raving fucking lunatic.
I’m not enticed by the promise of lavish gifts or trips I could never afford to take without him, but I am very much tempted by the prospect of feeling loved.
Our gazes lock again, and this time I ask, “You really think we could be happy together?”
Nodding confidently, he says, “I know we can. You just have to decide the same thing.”
I watch him for a few more moments, then I say, “You want to know something funny?”
“Sure.”
I sigh, gazing at the handsome lunatic. “If you had just asked me out to begin with? I would have said yes.”
I expect him to be surprised, but he’s not. Grinning wickedly, he says, “Aw, now where’s the fun in that?”
Shaking my head at his depravity, I roll my eyes, then I roll over so my back is to him. “Goodnight, crazy.”
His arm slides around my waist and he pulls me back until my body is pressed against his. He lifts his head and kisses the bare ball of my shoulder, then he murmurs, “Good night, little dove.”
Chapter Forty
Hallie
Given my new, tentative acceptance of this absolutely ludicrous engagement, Calvin decides it’s time for us to meet each other’s families.
Because he is the human embodiment of “go big or go home,” he also makes plans to accomplish all of that in the same weekend.
Both of our families live within day trip distance, but we book my mom first because I suspect she will be easier. I’m not sure how she will feel when I tell her—surprise!—I’m engaged and pregnant by a man she has never even heard of, but because Calvin’s idea of a bouquet of hostess flowers is the deed to her house, I’m expecting her to love him.
Calvin said it would be simplest to put the house in my name instead of hers. Since I’ll be his wife soon and New York is a community property state, what’s his is mine.