“You have to go back to New York and, I don’t know, catch a serial killer or something.” “Even though you don’t like it.” Terese put her arms around his neck. “You tilt at windmills, my love. I’ve been the beneficiary of that. It’s one of the reasons I love you.” “The other being my prowess in the sack?” “Or your susceptibility to self-delusion.” “Ouch.”
