Page 106 of The Burbs and the Bees
He reaches into his back pocket, and I put my hands to my face. Ohmigod, is he going to ask me to marry him? My heart beats double time, and the room blurs through my tears. But he pulls out a piece of paper or cardboard or something and hands it to me.
“This is part of your For Sale sign. Cluck misses you.”
I laugh. “I doubt tha
t. Cluck—”
“I miss you,” he says, and my words fall off as his face turns serious, a new intensity about him, one I’ve never seen before. My breath catches. “Alyson, if you want to stay here, I get it. But I don’t think this is where you belong anymore.”
“Me, neither,” I say. “I miss my farm.”
Still on his knees, he reaches into his pocket again, but this time I know better than to think this is a proposal, until he pulls out a velvet box.
He gives me a mischievous wink. “Fooled you, didn’t I?”
“Capone is so right about you,” I say as tears pour down my cheeks. I pound on his shoulders as my heart soars.
“Marry me, Alyson. Make me the happiest man in the world.” I open my mouth, but he shakes his head to stop me. “Before you answer, you have to know that I come with two annoying brothers, an interfering mother, an apiary, an obscene parrot, a watchdog rooster who will grow fond of you—I promise—and a whole lot of crazy.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re taking on?” I ask, my voice as shaky as my hands as I think of my own funny farm.
He frowns. “Hmm, maybe I should rethink this,” he says, but there is truth, honesty, and love shining in his dark eyes.
“Hey!”
I laugh and he stands, pulling me up to my feet. I burrow into his warmth and strength. This is the man who will catch me if I fall but will also lift me up so I can stand on my own two feet.
“I love you, Alyson. I want a family and future with you.”
“You want a family?”
“I want a flock of kids, Alyson. We can renovate your place to accommodate them all.”
“A flock? We’re having kids, not sheep, right?”
He laughs. “Is that a yes?”
“I’m going to need to think about the whole flock thing, though.”
He presses his lips to mine, his kiss steeped in love and passion. “Lord knows I tried not to fall in love, but I think I was a goner the second I saw you on the rocks.”
“Before or after you pushed me in?”
He groans playfully, and I wrap my arms around him. “Are we doing this again?” he asks.
“Nah, we called a truce.”
“Maybe we can have our wedding there. The beginning of our lives at the exact spot we met.”
“Are you forgetting something?” I ask.
He looks up and to the left like he’s searching his memory bank. “I don’t think so.”
“I haven’t answered you yet.”
He gulps. “Shit, you’re right. Please say yes. Stick with me, baby. I promise you the world, or at least a farm full of crazy.”
“Yes,” I say. “There is no one else I’d rather stick to than the hot honey farmer next door.”
