"Oh my god. I'm so finished with this." She pushed past me, into the hall. "What the hell is wrong with you? We had sex, that's it. You're not entitled to explanations. You don't have to go and explore issues and make sense of things." She stepped into her jeans, wrapped her sweater around her shoulders as if she'd planned on wearing it that way all along. "All you have to do is get your dick out and shut up, and apparently, that's too much to ask of you."
"It's a reasonable question, Brooke. You don't hide the fact you hate it here. What's the problem with asking why you stay?"
She shook her head and then flung the front door open. "Do not follow me."
The door banged shut behind her while I shoved my feet into shoes and whistled for Butterscotch. We stayed a fair distance behind Brooke, but that didn't stop her from tossing furious glances over her shoulder every few minutes.
"Why are you in such a rush?" I called. "It's the middle of the night."
"Oh, well, since you asked," she shouted back, "I'm going to get some work done. I'd planned on enjoying the post-orgasmic haze, but someone ruined that for me with a bullshit conversation that's none of his fucking business. I'm awake and I'm aggravated, so I might as well make some money."
"You could turn around and come home with me. You won't be aggravated when I'm done."
"One cannot be the source and the solution," she said. "I'm finished with you."
"For tonight," I added.
"Forever. I'm done with youforever. There are no circumstances in which you will ever see me naked again."
"You say that, sweetheart, and I know you think you mean it. But I also know you'll be back."
She stopped near the village, pivoted, and stared at me for a solid minute. Then, "Jed, I'd rather trip and fall into hot garbage in Midtown during a heat wave than get on your dick again."
Butterscotch galloped to Brooke's side and nuzzled her thigh. She murmured something to the dog and scratched her head, and they continued into the village side by side. They stayed together all the way up the hill to the Markham estate, Butterscotch's head brushing Brooke's hand every few steps.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and trailed behind them, content to follow—and wait.
Chapter Fifteen
Brooke
Marketable Securities: financial instruments that can be readily converted into cash.
Annette:Were you walking a dog last night?
Brooke:Good morning to you too.
Annette:Were you walking a dog in the middle of the night? Because one of Jackson's deputies swears he witnessed that exact thing and I…have so many questions.
Brooke:Can you describe the dog?
Annette:I didn't ask for details. All I heard was dog.
Brooke:Sounds unlikely.
Annette:And yet it wouldn't shock me if it was true.
Brooke:That says more about you than it does me.
Annette:Are you sure about that?
* * *
Annette:Did you walk any dogs last night?
Brooke:I did not, no.
Annette:Will you be walking any tonight?
