“It sounds like a perfect forest oasis.” He clicked his tongue. “There’s a name. Imagine a couple checking in, reception handing them a key and telling them their suite in the Forest Oasis awaits.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Has anyone ever told you you’re terrible at naming things?”
He laughed. “What’s wrong with Forest Oasis?”
I jokingly clutched my belly. “We better start discussing baby names soon because I’m worried it’s going to take us months to land on something decent.”
“That’ll be easy,” Locke said, waving off my concern. “Locke Junior.”
“And if it’s a girl?” I said.
He shot me a wicked grin. “Lockette.”
“I hate you.”
“Just give it some time,” he teased. “It’ll grow on you.”
“Not any faster than the Highland Haven.”
“Okay, that’s actually a decent name. I don’t know why you and Weston keep acting like you hate it.”
“The Highland Haven. The Forest Oasis. It sounds like you’re trying to sell me something that doesn’t exist.”
“What do you want to call it?” he laughed. “The MacFraser House?” He paused, tilting his head. “Hang on.”
“No,” I said, holding my finger out to him. He couldn’t actually be considering that. “Don’t even think about it.”
Locke laughed so hard his face turned red. “Lockette MacFraser has a ring to it.”
“Stop it.”
His lips twisted with glee. “Do you really want our child to just be another Patsy or Sarah or Brian?”
“Yes, in fact. I would like them to have a name that’s not going to get them laughed out of primary school.” I rolled my eyes and turned for the trail. “Lockette? Honestly! Let’s get out of here. I think all the sunlight is going to your head.”
“Wait,” he called.
I paused, turning to look back over my shoulder. “What?”
He gestured to the house. “Shouldn’t we get a photo of you here too? Before construction.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but now that he’d mentioned it, I liked the idea. The home I grew up in certainly wasn’t going to be the same when we were done with it. It could be fun to show our baby all that we’d accomplished here someday. “That’d be really nice, actually.”
“Here,” he said, holding out his hand for the camera. “Show me what to do.”
I handed it to him, then tugged him into position in front of the house, lining up the shot. “This should be good,” I said, guiding his hands up. “Make sure I’m in the middle of the frame when you look through the viewfinder.”
“Yes, I figured as much.”
I stared into those gray eyes, amusement tugging at my lips. “Hold the shutter down halfway. That’ll focus the shot. Then, once you’re happy with it, press it down all the way.”
“So basically point and shoot?”
“Don’t get cocky,” I said, needling him in the side. “Photography is an art.” I ran up the path to the front of the house, stopping in front of the porch. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful,” he said, staring through the camera.
“I mean, am I blurry?”
