Page 6 of Cooper

“I never asked you before,” said Coop. “Your English is very good. Where did you learn to speak so well?”

“My grandparents lived in Texas their entire lives. I spent summers on their ranch when I was little. I loved it. I always wanted to come back here but with what happened to my family, I just couldn’t leave without punishing Rodriguez.”

“We took care of that for you,” said Coop.

“I know,” she said from behind the partition as she changed her clothes. “I’m sorry I didn’t thank you instead of slapping you.”

“It’s okay,” he smirked rubbing his jaw. “That’s the second time you’ve done that and both times hurt like hell. You’ve got quite a swing.”

She stepped from behind the partition dressed in khaki shorts and a pink Mardi Gras t-shirt. She had on a pair of sandals, her unpainted toenails looking strange. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw a woman without her nails done. It was refreshing. Innocent.

“Do I look okay? I mean, is this place fancy?” she asked.

“You look,” he cleared his throat, “you look great. And no, it’s not fancy. I’ll explain everything as we go.”

He wheeled the chair into the room and helped her to sit down. She protested a bit but he wasn’t having any of it. When they left out the back doors, she stared at the massive tree lined roadway, the huge iron gates behind them, and up ahead, dozens of beautiful cottages.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

“It’s home.”

CHAPTER THREE

“Everyone here is related?” she asked looking down the long road as they got closer and closer to the picturesque homes.

“Not in the way you think. We all feel as if we’re family to one another. My parents and grandparents both live on the property. There are families that are huge, like the Robicheauxs and Jordans, lots of multiple births,” he smirked. “Then there are families that are average, like mine.”

“And your parents work here?” she asked.

“My father is an operative on the team and my mother is an interior designer. My grandfather still works with the team as well. My grandmother is actually an engineer and works at G.R.I.P., a company we own. She was blind when they met but thanks to one of our amazing surgeons, they discovered that it wasn’t permanent.”

“That’s incredible,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have all of them. But. But where do I fit in? I mean, I’m a total stranger with no real valuable skills other than crafts. And how are crafts useful to people like you?”

“Bianca, everyone’s skills are useful to our family. We want people to have their own lives, their own source of income and to be who they want to be. We don’t discriminate against anyone. If you want to dye your hair blue, do it. If you want to make macaroni art, do it. If you want to love a woman…”

“I don’t!” she said too quickly, looking down at her lap in embarrassment. Coop just grinned to himself.

“I just meant that if that’s what would make you happy, we would be happy for you.” He stopped the chair and kneeled beside her, taking her hand. He grinned at her. “I’m only holding your hand so you don’t slap me again.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she said softly.

“No you’re not. And you shouldn’t be. I should have kept you close. I thought I was protecting you and I didn’t do a very good job of it. Tonight, you’ll have one of those cottages as your own. You’ll have it for as long as you want to be here.”

She shared at the cottages for a long moment, then back at him.

“You have no one left, right?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered. “No one.”

“You have us,” he said. “You have me.”

“Cooper, you don’t owe me anything. You were doing your job and trying to do what was right. I wasn’t raped. Yes, he beat me and drugged me, but that older man stopped him before he could really hurt me.”

“I know I don’t owe you anything, Bianca but I wish you’d let me help you get started with a new life. This life, if you want. If not, wherever you want to go. You don’t have to decide anything now,” he said standing again and pushing the chair. “Let’s eat and you can get to know the family.”

Cooper knew that almost every big decision ever made at Belle Fleur was typically made around a dining table over food that most people could only dream of. She’d run that small store and café by herself, making handbags from whatever she could find and some of them were beautiful. He’d even bought one for his mother.

“Is there anything you don’t like to eat? Anything you’re allergic to?” he asked as he pushed her chair up to the table.