The Cottage

But instead, he went to lunch with her at the Bel Air the next day. They told each other all about themselves and were amazed at how similar they were in some ways, how many tastes they shared, right down to their favorite ice cream and dessert, and the kind of books they did and didn't like. It was uncanny how powerful the genetics were. And at the end of lunch, he had an odd idea.

“Would you like to stay at The Cottage while you're here?” he suggested, and meant it. He wanted to spend more time with her. She suddenly seemed like a gift in his life, and he didn't want to turn her away. He wanted her close to him, at least for a few days, or maybe even weeks. And Taryn liked the idea too.

“I don't want to intrude,” she said cautiously, but he could see it appealed to her.

“You wouldn't be.” He was sorry now that he had tenants in the guest wing and the gatehouse. It would have been nice to have her there. But he had an enormous guest suite in the main house too, and he was sure Alex wouldn't object. He had told Taryn about her, and she thought Alex sounded wonderful, which Coop said she was.

Taryn promised to move in the next day, and he told Alex that night. She was thrilled for him, and excited to meet her. She still hadn't told him what her father had said, and she never would. In retrospect, she realized he had meant well, but she knew it would have broken Coop's heart to hear the horrors her father had to say. He didn't need to know. Her father just didn't understand who Coop was.

And whatever Taryn had brought to him, it was obviously meant to be. She had never seen Coop like that in the few months she'd known him. He seemed remarkably quiet, and totally at peace.

Chapter 18

Taryn moved in to The Cottage with very little luggage, and even less fuss. She was discreet, polite, pleasant, and easy to have around. She asked Paloma for nothing, and was careful not to intrude on Coop. And when Alex met her, the two women hit it off immediately. They were both solid, strong, honest women, who had a penchant for being kind. And Alex could see the resemblance to Coop. Not only physically, but they had the same naturally aristocratic look. It was remarkable. The two things she didn't have in common with him were that she traveled with very little luggage, and she was financially sound. Other than that, they were two peas in a pod. And Coop loved having her around.

They spent days getting to know each other, filling each other in on their pasts, and sharing their views and opinions on everything imaginable. There were differences and similarities that intrigued them both, and Taryn thought him a nice man. After they'd gotten to know each other, she asked him if he was serious about Alex, and he told her he wasn't sure. It was the most honest thing he'd ever said. Even in the short time he'd known her, Taryn brought the best out in him, even more than Alex. It was as though she had come to make him whole. And he brought her something too. Now that she knew he existed, she wanted to know who he was, and she liked what she saw, although she saw his weaknesses too.

“I have a dilemma about Alex,” he confessed.

“Because she's so young?” Taryn asked, as they lay in the shade at the pool, while everyone else was at work. She had the same fair skin as he, and like her father, she instinctively avoided the sun, and had the same flawless alabaster complexion as he. Coop always said it was thanks to his distant British ancestry. He had “English” skin, and clearly Taryn did too.

“No, I'm used to that, young doesn't bother me,” he grinned. “She's almost too old for me.” They both laughed at that. He had told her about Charlene too. “Her father is Arthur Madison. You know what that means. I constantly question my motives about her. I'm up to my ass in debt.” His honesty seemed charming to her. He had never even told Alex that. “Sometimes I worry that I'm after her money. At other times, I'm sure I'm not. It would be so damn easy and convenient for me. Too easy maybe. The question is, would I love her if she didn't have a cent? I'm not sure. And until I am, I'm stuck. It's a hell of a question to ask yourself.”

“Maybe it doesn't matter,” Taryn said practically.

“But maybe it does,” he said, suddenly honest, which was an immense relief. She was the one person he could be totally candid with, because she had no axe to grind, and he wanted nothing from her. Not her love or her body or her money. He just wanted her in his life. It was the closest he'd ever been to unconditional love. And it seemed to have happened overnight, almost as though he had known she was out there somewhere, and he was waiting for her to arrive in his life. He needed her. And maybe, in some odd and unexpected way, Taryn needed him. “The minute sex and money get into it, Taryn, it's a mess. It has been in my life anyway.” He loved sharing his secrets with her, and was surprised about it himself.