Theresa clears an empty table and then takes the long way back to the kitchen to pass my booth. “All I know is her name is Rowan. He didn’t elaborate.”
Great. The victor has a name in my nightmares, now. “Thanks.”
She narrows her shrewd gaze on me. “Do I detect jealousy, Ms. Green?”
“Irritation,” I correct. “And frustration at how gullible I am.”
“About what?” Theresa sets the dishes on the table and slides onto the bench seat opposite.
“Is he a player?” I ask, figuring there’s no need to use names when there’s only one man I’d be talking about. “Does he do this a lot?”
“Do what?”
Far out.Do I have to spell out every second of my shame? “Tell women what they want to hear and then just shut them out when they want to get close.”
“He shuts everyone out,” Theresa says, getting comfortable. “Jinx is notorious for being closed off. While the rest of the boys get together and cause havoc, he’s on the sidelines, watching with a disapproving scowl.” She chuckles. “It’s why some of them call him ‘mother’ to get a rise out of him.”
“Really?”
She nods. “See a different side of him, did you?”
“He took me to the river and got me to release my bottled-up emotions.”
Her head turns slightly. “We’re talking about the same Jinx?”
“Pretty sure we are. Yep.” I set my arms on the table before me and cradle what’s left of my coffee. “I thought we’d made a connection, and then he just shut me out.”
“When?”
“Pardon?” Does this woman seriously need to know everything?
“When did he shut you out?” she asks again. “After I picked you up yesterday? If so, he’s trying to protect you from the mess the club is in.”
“No. After that.”
She stares at me, clearly waiting for me to continue.
“We, um, shared his bed last night because I didn’t want to go home and face my father just yet.”
“Understandable given what you told us earlier.”
“And he turned me down.” I’ve probably said too much. He’d cringe if he knew I’d told Theresa this.
“You’re not the first.” She leans in, lowering her voice. “I’m not part of the club anymore, but some of the girls treat me a little like a mentor.” She seems embarrassed by the revelation. “They pop over and ask me questions when they’re in a bind or unsure what they should do, and I give them advice based on my years there. Anyway.” Theresa leans closer. “A few of them have talked about him, Jinx, specifically. Two of them said the same thing, ‘I don’t know what to do to please him’.” She bops her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t take it personally, sweetheart. By all accounts, he’s just a hard man to keep happy. Maybe he’s happy to be alone.”
My frustration eases somewhat as I stare off to the side at the table, not really looking at it per se, but replaying last night in my mind. He said he wanted to pretend everything was okay. He’s told me plenty that he wants to be with me, regardless of my father’s wrath. That doesn’t sound like a guy who’s happy tobe alone—it sounds like a guy who knows from experience things will turn out badly.
And if he’s done this before, then it’s not because of that woman down there.
Then why? If the problem doesn’t lie with the club girls or me, then he’s right. It’s him.
My scowl of concentration fades, facial muscles relaxing as the possibility dawns on me.
“Has he been with anyone in the last few years?” I ask.
Theresa slides out of the seat and picks up the dirty dishes again. “Not that I know of.”
“Isn’t that a little weird?”
