Trev raised his hands. “All right, fine. Then I won’t tell you my name either, and we’ll be strangers forever.” He looked her over again. “But at least answer me this. Do you always wear boys’ clothes?” he asked, nodding toward her gray pants.
She laughed. “Have you ever tried swimming in a dress? It doesn’t work very well.”
“This may surprise you, but I’ve never gone swimming in a dress,” he said, his tone serious.
“Then you have no room to judge.” She smirked.
Trev smiled, wondering why this girl was so easy to talk to.
“You know,” he leaned back against his hands, “there are better ways than pretending to drown to get a man’s attention. I can talk to Mangum for you. Let him know you’re interested.”
“What?”
“Mangum.” Trev reminded her. “You know, get his attention for you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t want Mangum’s attention.”
She deserved payback for the fake drowning. “So then you wanted mine?” Trev grinned as her jaw dropped in surprise.
He probably shouldn’t be flirting with a random country girl. He was engaged, after all. But this was more talking than flirting. Surely there was no harm in that.
“I did not do this to get your attention,” she objected. “I already told you I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”
“It’s fine. You can admit it.” He gave her a sly smile.
“First of all, I don’t know you. Second, even if I did know you, and I was purposely trying to get your attention, I would have done it so much better.”
“Is there a better way to pretend to drown?” He smiled, unable to hide his amusement.
“Well, if I had been trying to be appealing I would have worn a dress, not a man’s oversized shirt—”
“I agree. It’s painful to look at you.” That wasn’t true. She was very attractive.
“And not just any dress,” she continued, pointedly ignoring his comment. “I would have done some investigating and found out what your favorite color was—”
“Blue,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“My favorite color is blue.” Then he gestured for her to continue.
She rolled her eyes, but Trev saw her smile. “All right, I would have worn a blue dress—”
“A colored dress? That’s expensive. You’d do that for me?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I would have worn a blue dress”—her eyes warned him not to interrupt—“that hugged my body, leaving little to the imagination.”
Trev didn’t feel the need to add anything. He liked what he heard.
“Then I wouldn’t have floated there lifeless.” She threw her arms in the air, making waves with her hands. Trev leaned away to avoid being hit. “I would have splashed around, wailing and crying, to make sure that you stopped and rescued me.” She dropped her hands into her lap. “Then you would have heard my cries for help and dove into the water—”
“Like I did today?” he deadpanned.
“Yes. Apparently, you have some redeeming qualities.” She took a breath before jumping back into her reverie. “Once I was safe on shore, I would have looked up at you, held your gaze, and waited.” She paused and turned her head to look at him.
“Waited for what?” he asked, amused and absorbed by her story.
“For you to kiss me, of course,” she said matter-of-factly like it was the only obvious outcome.
“You kiss people you don’t even know? Right after you’ve met?”
“No!” She shook her head with an edge of annoyance. “It’s just a pretend scenario. We already know each other in the story. That’s why we kiss. Why would I want your attention if we don’t already know each other?”
Trev raised the corner of his mouth into a slight smile. “Because I’m so good looking?”
She turned and looked him over, pretending to consider. “No,” she decided, her expression impassive. “You’re not that good looking.”
Ouch. Trev’s ego was wounded, but her answer came too quickly for him to really believe she didn’t find him somewhat attractive.
“Well, I’m afraid it would take more than a pretty, colored dress and some eye contact to get me to kiss you.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You’d have to be interesting and confident too.”
“Which I am,” she added.
“No, I don’t think so,” he maintained. “You’re clingy and desperate for my affection. That’s why you pretended to drown.”
She frowned and Trev knew a brief moment of victor. It was her turn to have her ego wounded.
“No, that’s not it at all,” she said again, this time with more passion. “Perhaps I’m poor . . . maybe even your servant, and I have to pretend to drown because you are too arrogant to see the love right in front of you.”
“No.” He kept his tone even. “You’re deranged and controlling. I’ve been kind to you, and you’ve taken that kindness as something more. You devised this drowning scheme as a way to—”
“This is my pretend story. You have no say in it,” she snapped playfully, cutting him off.
“Okay, then how does it end?” He sighed, surrendering control of the plot. “After you gaze up at me, what happens?”
She peered over the pond, caught up in her fairytale. “You look into my eyes, and you finally see me, not as your poor servant girl, but as the woman you were meant to spend the rest of your life with.” A smile grew across her lips. “You kiss me, and then we live happily ever after.”
If the fake drowning hadn’t convinced him the girl was crazy, this did. “Happily ever after is an ancient concept.”
“What do you mean?” she asked defensively.
“You know. Love. That one-and-only person you’re supposed to spend your life with. Happy endings. All that. It doesn’t exist.” He rolled his eyes just thinking of it.
“Of course it does.” She sounded astonished, as if his objections were absurd.
Something twisted inside him, but his voice remained impartial. “There’s nothing in my life that proves true love exists.”
She looked away for a moment, and Trev internally kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to get personal with her. He didn’t usually get personal with anyone, besides his friend, Drake. Now her silence was starting to make him uncomfortable.
“I understand what you’re saying,” she said finally. “There isn’t much in my life either to prove that love and happy endings exist.” Her voice was quieter as she spoke, and her eyes no longer held the twinkle that had been there moments ago. Trev shifted, feeling remorseful. It was like he had popped her make-believe love bubble.
“I can tell you more about what isn’t love than what is,” she continued. “But I know what kind of love I want in my future, and it’s not the kind I’ve witnessed.”
“What if you never find the love you’re looking for?”
“I’ll create it,” she replied with certainty.