That was probably not true, but Becca wouldn’t push.
“I haven’t really known your brother long, but I get the feeling he enjoys taking care of people,” Becca said. Gibson took that moment to weave through her ankles. “And pets.”
“No kidding.” Courtney glanced to the cat walking a figure-eight around Becca’s feet. “Cedric has always taken care of me.” Courtney closed her laptop. She pulled the charging cord loose and wound it up. “I appreciate that he’ll want to keep doing that. I think, though, that it’s time that I started taking care of myself.”
Becca could admire that.
“Can I help?” Becca asked. “If there’s anything I can do to make all of this easier—”
“I don’t need a therapist.” Courtney gave a firm head shake.
“That’s good because I can’t be your therapist.” Not after what she’d done with Courtney’s brother.
Courtney raised her eyebrows in question.
Becca’s phone pinged, announcing the car was only a few minutes away. “I can be your friend, though, if you want one.”
Courtney’s jaw slackened. She nodded. “I think I’d like that.”
Good. This was good. Look at Becca, making friends, just like if she was at a bar on the beach. Okay, this was very different from that. Same concept, though.
“You seem nice, Becca.” Courtney stared at Becca with the kind of assessing look that usually made a person’s palm sweat. But it didn’t when it came from Courtney.
“Thanks.” Becca scratched at her eyebrow. “I think.”
Courtney laughed. “Cedric doesn’t have a great history with women. But you’re different.”
The itch to ask what Courtney meant about Linx’s history intensified.Not your business. Not your business.Fine. Whatever. She was going to ask. “How am I different?”
“I mean, at least you get to use your name, right?” Courtney held her knuckles up for a fist bump.
Becca stilled, trying to figure out what the heck Courtney meant. “Sorry, what?”
“Your name.” The brief smile forming on Courtney’s mouth faltered.
“Why wouldn’t I use my name?” Becca asked.
“He didn’t tell you?” Courtney’s face went pale. It wasn’t because someone was cooking bacon.
Becca’s phone pinged again. The car was at the end of the block now. “Tell me what?”
Now, it felt like she needed to know.
Courtney shook her head. The color still hadn’t returned to her cheeks. “On that note, I’ve said entirely too much. You should ask him.”
Becca did the thing she had perfected, where she could, with a look, get someone to continue speaking about a subject even though they’d planned to stop. She didn’t use the technique often in her practice, but occasionally it came in handy. She couldn’t say if it was the way she tilted her head, the way she softened her gaze, or the way she simply said nothing as she did those two things, but six times out of ten, it worked.
What the hell? She tried it now.
Courtney paused, let out a breath, and started talking.
“Linx used to have—” Courtney held up two hands in apparent surrender. “—women that he saw in the various tour cities.”
Well, yeah, Becca had figured that much.
“We all called them by their city name, not their name.”
Serious? That was… “That’s a little degrading,” Becca said, noting a bit of a sour taste along her taste buds.
