"In which universe do I strike you as someone who waits for a man to propose? It sure as hell isn't this one. If I want to get married, I'll tell him. It's a conversation, not a surprise attack." I glanced at her and tried to swallow around the foot in my mouth. "I don't mean—"
She held up her hands. "Nope. It's fine. The surprise attack worked well in my situation, and to be fair, there was a conversation beforehand. Several of them. I didn't expect he'd be in such a hurry to go forward after those conversations, but you know Jackson. He likes efficiency. It's too bad we haven't been able to apply that same efficiency to wedding planning."
"Okay," I replied, unconvinced that I hadn't kicked the puppy of our friendship. "I'm not trying to—"
"I said it was fine and I meant that. We don't get bent out of shape over things like this, Brooke. We don't let little nonsense divide us. You're spinning too fast to see that right now, but believe me, we're okay."
I bobbed my head. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," she replied. "And don't leave because you're scared. If you really, truly want to go, I'm not going to stop you. I won't ask Jackson to chase you down the interstate or close the airports. If this is what you want, I won't try to change your mind. But I'll miss the hell out of you. I'll miss having you down the street. I'll be sad I don't have the same relationship with you, but I'll be happy you're getting what you want. You deserve that."
I layered my hands over my belly over the little blob of cells inside me. "I don't—I don't know what I want."
Annette's eyes softened as she smiled. "Then stay here and figure it out." She lifted her hands. "Or leave and figure it out in New York. I'll be here for you either way. I can think of someone else who will be here—anywhere—for you too."
I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe I hadn't killed the possibility of us with fire.
But I couldn't.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
JJ
Liquidity: the ease and speed with which a purchase or sale can be completed.
It wasone of those unusually quiet nights at the tavern, the sort where I checked the town calendar for big events and stepped outside several times to confirm the lights were on. As far as I could tell, the golden combination of glorious July weather, late sunsets, and minimal responsibilities meant everyone was cooking out, going on evening walks, or coming up with reasons to avoid the indoors.
I couldn't comment on the weather or the sunset. I hadn't noticed either today. The only thing I knew was Brooke left town first thing this morning after turning off her phone and spending the night with Annette. Jackson was kind enough to pass that information along to me. Brooke, not as much.
But I knew it was coming when she wouldn't see me last night. Annette swore Brooke needed time to process the recent events and she'd take care of my girl, but I knew she was as good as gone. She needed to do this and I needed to let her.Letting herhad its limits, however, and there were approximately twelve hours left on this experience before I hit mine. As much as she inspired me to club her over the head and drag her home, I wasn't letting it go down that way. I didn't want her to be alone right now and I wasn't letting her do this alone for one more day. If that meant following her around New York City, I'd be hot on her heels.
I checked my phone at the off chance I'd missed a call or message. Nothing new.
The door creaked open, and for a split second my heart pulsed into my throat thinking it was Brooke. God, it would be so good to see her. Hold her. Instead, it was Cole McClish, the better half of lobsterman and town council chairman Owen Bartlett. I kept watch on the door, expecting to find Owen close behind.
"It's just me tonight," Cole said, following my gaze. He gripped the back of a stool and cast wary glances at the stragglers seated around the bar. "Is this okay? Should I—"
"Sit your ass down," I barked. I flung a coaster across the bar top, dropped a menu beside it.
"Yes, sorry," he murmured as he settled into the seat. "What do you recommend?"
I stared at him. Blinked. Exhaled like a motherfucker. "Narrow that down, would you? I'm not going to sit here and recommend appetizers when you're only interested in red wines. I got better things to do with my time."
Cole glanced at the menu, a deep frown etched into his face. He was the newest Talbott's Cove import, all the way from sunny California. He was one of those tech sensations who'd earned his first billion before he was old enough to drink to his success. Somehow he'd found his way to our corner of the world and into Owen's heart. The two of them were damn near inseparable, which made Cole's appearance here even more unusual than the empty dining room.
He pushed the menu aside. "I could use a drink. How about a bartender's special? I don't have any strong preferences or aversions."
For a second, I thought about blasting him with some noise about having a drink menu for a reason, but I couldn't do it. I was tired as hell. I missed Brooke like I didn't think possible. If I stopped long enough to get my arms around the idea of Brooke being pregnant—andgone—and the distillery's uncertain future, my brain short-circuited.
"All right. Let's shake something up." I reached into a low cabinet for one of my small-batch gins and set to mixing the distillery's proposed signature martini.
Surprising the shit out of me, Cole scooped a handful of pretzels out of a communal bowl and shoveled them in his mouth. Then, he propped his arm on the bar, rested his cheek on his hand, and dragged the bowl in front of him. He selected individual pretzels, eating them one at a time as he said, "I stepped on Owen's overgrown toes tonight. That's why I'm here."
Not taking my eyes off him, I reached for a martini glass. "I'm gonna need you to be clear. Is this a metaphor or did you actually step on his toes?"
"It started when we were changing the sheets this morning," Cole said. "I told Owen he was doing it wrong—and he was. The fitted sheet was inside out and I merely told him this."
"Metaphorical, then," I said to myself as I filled the glass.
