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.
“No. I’m not picky at all. I like food,” she smiled. He nodded and walked to fill her tray. Two beautiful women walked toward her and she shifted uncomfortably.
“Bianca, my name is Bella. I’m Cooper’s grandmother. This is Lyra, his mother.”
“H-how is that possible?” she whispered to herself, or so she thought. The two women chuckled, smiling as they took their seats. Walking toward the table with two trays of food each, were Diego and Abe. “Let me guess. Grandfather and father?”
“That’s right,” smiled Diego.
“You could all be brothers. You look too young,” she said shaking her head.
“We’ll explain our secret later,” smiled Bella. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything right now?”
“She just needs food, grandma,” smiled Cooper setting the tray down in front of her.
“Well then, let’s feed her and get to know her,” smiled Bella.
“Oh, there’s not much to tell,” said Bianca. “My family was killed by that man, Rodriguez, the one that Cooper and his friends stopped. I owned a small store where I made handbags and served soft drinks and sweets, nothing big.”
“That’s right. Cooper brought one home for me,” smiled Lyra. “It’s beautiful. I love the design. Is it made from seatbelts?”
“Yes,” nodded Bianca. “There are a lot of old, run-down, abandoned cars in that area. Or there were. I would go in and cut out the seatbelts, wash them and treat them to ensure they’d last. The thing is seat belts never seem to wear out. What a great concept for a purse, right?”
“Genius,” nodded Lyra. “You could make a fortune here selling those bags. I’ll bet the boys at the shop have lots of seat belts they could give you. When you’re feeling better, you can make some bags and we’ll put them in the General Store for you.”
“Really? You would do that?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, but only if you eat,” smirked Bella. Biance smiled, nodding at the two women, the men seemingly staring at her, but not staring at her. It was as if they were inspecting her but not openly. Lyra cleared her throat, nudging the two men.
“So, Cooper, are you home for good?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet, Mom. I’ve got some leave that I’m taking and time to think. I’m not sure I want to go back. The government really dragged their feet on taking down Rodriguez and that only created more trouble for everyone in the region. It was unnecessary and we kept telling them so.”
“Sounds like nothing has changed,” frowned Abe.
“Not a thing. The problem is we got Rodriguez and his operation, its gone but the government officials involved are still sitting down there with nothing to worry about. No one implicated them in any of it.”
“That sounds familiar,” nodded Diego. He looked at Bianca and noticed that her fork was half-way to her mouth, shaking violently. He followed her gaze and knew what was wrong.
“That man. That man is glowing.”