Bachelor By Design: Bachelor By Design / Too Hot For Comfort
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Trace could see Chloe frowning at him from the bar. “I’m twenty-seven. So why don’t you quit wasting my time.”
“Why the hell do you keep stalling? Got something to hide? I want to see some ID and I want to see it now.”
Trace could either argue with the cretin or join Chloe. “Fine,” he muttered, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Only he came up empty. Both pockets were empty. “Damn.”
“Got a problem, pretty boy?”
Trace definitely had a problem—and his name was Ramon. Not only had Chloe’s little brother sicced his Chihuahua on him, he’d also stolen his wallet. Which meant Trace had no money, no credit cards, and no identification.
This just wasn’t his day.
“Would you believe somebody stole my wallet?”
The bouncer snorted. “That’s original. I’ve tossed out underage teenagers with more imagination.”
Before Trace could reply, Chloe ambled over to them. “What’s going on here?”
“Let me handle this,” Trace said.
The bouncer’s eyes narrowed. “Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend?”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” she interjected.
The bouncer turned to her. “That’s good to hear. Why don’t you let me buy you a beer? Then we can have a little private conversation.”
Trace stepped in front of Chloe. “Forget it. She’s off-limits.”
“Trace…” she began.
But this was one time Trace didn’t intend to let her interrupt him. He took a step closer to the bouncer. “The woman belongs to me. If you have a problem with that we can handle it outside.”
The bouncer smiled, the light reflecting off the gold crown on his front tooth. “Lead the way.”
“Neither one of you are going anywhere!” Chloe exclaimed, stepping between them. Then she glowered up at the bouncer. “What exactly is your problem, Viper?”
“Viper?” Trace echoed, looking from Chloe to the bouncer.
“Meet my cousin,” she said, nodding toward the bouncer. “Viper D’Onofrio. Viper, this is Trace Callahan.”
Viper shook his head. “Another pretty boy. Why don’t you go for a real man, like my lawyer? That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. He told me he’d really like to date you.”
“Your lawyer is a slimeball.”
“Maybe so. But just think how useful it would be to have him in the family. Free legal advice twenty-four hours a day.”
“If you think it’s such a great idea, you date him,” she retorted. “Besides, I’m not here to talk about my love life. I’m looking for Ramon.”
“Your brother Ramon?”
Chloe arched a brow. “How many Ramons do you know?”
He shrugged, avoiding her direct gaze. “Even if I did see him, I’m no snitch.”
“Then I’ll have to ask Ducky. You told me she knows everything that goes on in this place.” Chloe looked around the crowded bar. “So where is she?”
Viper hesitated, his suspicious gaze flicking over Trace. “What about this guy? He claims he doesn’t have any ID. How do I know he’s not a vice cop disguised as a jerk?”
“If I was a cop I’d arrest you for impersonating an ape. Now, as soon as we find Ramon we’ll find my ID. He has my wallet.”
She closed her eyes with a groan. “Oh, Trace, he didn’t.”
“He did. Unless the Chihuahua ate it.”
Viper flashed his gold tooth. “Sounds like Ramon is finally living up to the D’Onofrio name. Now my cousin Chloe here is another story. She’s a downright embarrassment to the family. In fact, we used to call her Squeaky, ’cause she’s so squeaky clean.”
Chloe glowered at him, which only seemed to amuse her cousin.
Viper gave a low chuckle. “And because she was always squeaking on all of us, a real tattletale—ow!” he yelped, his words abruptly cut off as a tiny woman with short, iron-gray hair twisted his ear between her bony fingers.
“That’s enough out of you, Virgil D’Onofrio. I’ve told you before to stop harassing my customers.”
“But, Ducky,” he protested, as she pulled him by the ear toward the bar.
She reached over the counter and pulled out a bucket and sponge. “If you don’t have anything better to do, you can mop those bathroom floors. I want them shining by the time you’re through.”
Viper rubbed his red ear. “But, Ducky….”
She planted both hands on her narrow hips.
“And if I hear one more ‘But, Ducky,’ I’m going to use that sponge on your mouth—after you’ve scrubbed those floors.”
Trace found himself suddenly approving of the buxom, chain-smoking, tough-talking dynamo. Even if she did look like a charter member of the Hell’s Angels.
Viper paled and backed away, obviously smart enough to take her threat seriously. “Yes, Ducky.”
“And don’t just barge into the ladies’ room without knocking like you did last time,” she admonished as he disappeared behind the men’s-room door.
The little iron-haired tyrant lit a cigarette, then turned back to Trace and Chloe. “Welcome to Ducky’s.”
Chloe smiled as she turned to her date. “Trace, I’d like you to meet my grandmother, Ducky D’Onofrio.”
5
CHLOE BIT BACK a smile at the stunned expression on Trace’s face. She probably should have told him sooner, but the man seemed to bring out the worst in her. Especially after he’d practically accused her grandmother of killing off her husbands. Ducky might not be totally legit, but she wasn’t dangerous. Or, at least, not lethally dangerous.
Ducky enveloped her granddaughter in an affectionate hug. “It’s been too long, Chloe. Now, let me take a good look at you.” Ducky stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “Not bad.” She reached out to pull the peasant blouse off Chloe’s shoulders. “There, that’s much better.”
This time Chloe’s smile broke through when she saw a muscle flex in Trace’s cheek. She had to give him credit, though—he exercised surprising restraint.
Ducky turned around and elbowed Trace in the ribs. “Bet you find it hard to believe I’m old enough to be a grandmother.”
He placed a hand over his ribs. “Well, I…”
Ducky glanced at her granddaughter. “Is he always this slow or is he just overwhelmed by a double dose of D’Onofrio beauty?”
Chloe leaned over to kiss her wrinkled, rouged cheek. “You’ve been making men speechless for the last forty years, Ducky. What do you think?”
Ducky snorted. “I think it’s a shame you never went into the con game, girl. You’re one smooth talker.”
“Then I should be able to talk you into two ice-cold beers—on the house.”
Ducky cackled. “You’ve got ’em. Go on and sit at my special table. I’ll be right there.”
Trace watched her grandmother bustle off toward the bar, a dazed expression on his face. Coping with more than one D’Onofrio at a time tended to have that effect on people. Especially when one of those D’Onofrios was Ducky. Chloe loved her spry, unconventional grandmother, despite her flirtation with the wrong side of the law.
Ducky had been there after Chloe’s mother went to prison, providing advice and comfort. Intensely loyal to everyone in the family, Ducky had taken a special interest in Chloe. She’d encouraged her granddaughter’s dream to go to design school and even cosigned her college loan papers. Ducky might not be your typical grandmother, but Chloe loved her fiercely.
“She’s really your grandmother?” Trace whispered as they seated themselves at the secluded table.
She nodded. “My father’s mother. Only she doesn’t allow her grandchildren to call her anything but Ducky.”
He scowled at her. “You might have told me sooner.”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “But, Trace, I thought you already knew everything.”
Before he could reply, Ducky arrived at the table with three frosty bottles of beer in her hands. She held Trace’s bottle just out of his reach. “I don’t serve a drink to a man unless I know his name.”
“I’m Trace Callahan,” he replied.
Chloe leaned forward. “Ducky, we can’t stay long.”
Ducky sat down at the table. “You’ll stay long enough for this Callahan to tell me what his intentions are toward you.”
“My intentions are strictly honorable,” Trace assured her.
“That’s too bad,” Ducky replied with a disappointed sigh. “A man with strictly honorable intentions isn’t much fun. Have you even kissed her yet?”
“Ducky!” To Chloe’s consternation, a hot blush crept up her neck. “This is only our first date. Besides, we’re not here to talk about…kissing. We’re here about Ramon.”
“What’s that boy done now?”
“He’s in trouble,” Chloe replied, glossing over the finer details. “I have to find him. Has he been here this evening?”
Ducky shook her head. “No, but he was here last night. Had some bimbo with him, too.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “A girl?”
“More like an Amazon,” Ducky said with a cackle. “Ramon definitely had his hands full.”
“Who was she?” Chloe asked.
Ducky shrugged. “Beats me. I was busy in the back. I just got a glimpse of her.”
“What about Cousin Viper,” Trace asked, “didn’t he ask to see her ID?”
“Nope.” Ducky tipped up her beer bottle. “He was too busy checking out her other vital statistics. She was one of those flashy blondes who wear too much makeup and look more than a little shopworn. I was afraid Ramon might be in over his head.”
Chloe slowly shook her head. “I didn’t even know he was dating anyone.”
“I’m not sure I’d call it a date,” Ducky said. “She flirted all night with Virgil. But your brother looked too nervous to notice.”
“Poor Ramon,” Chloe murmured. “He hasn’t had much luck with women. No wonder he’s been acting a little odd lately.”
“How can you tell?” Trace asked.
She ignored him. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Ducky set her beer bottle on the table. “I shouldn’t have told you that much. It’s time to let him go, Chloe. Ramon is a big boy now and he doesn’t need you to look after him anymore.”
Chloe blinked, surprised by the vehemence in her grandmother’s voice. “But he’s family.”
“Of course he’s family. But there’s more to life than work and cleaning up Ramon’s messes. Just look at you.” Ducky’s mouth drew down in a frown. “Out on a date with this mouthwatering man and you’re wasting it by worrying about your little brother.”
Her words pricked. How could Chloe enjoy a date with Trace or any other man if her brother was headed for trouble? How could she not lift a finger to stop it? “If you want to know the truth, Trace believes Ramon hit him in the head this evening when he came to pick me up.”
“Impossible,” Ducky said, without a flicker of her false eyelashes. “That isn’t Ramon’s style. He’s not a violent person.”
“He almost cut off my toe yesterday,” Trace said dryly.
“And tonight he answered the door with a carving knife in his hand.”
Ducky shook her head. “The sight of blood makes him hysterical. You must be mistaken, Mr. Callahan.”
“I have stitches to prove it,” Trace insisted. “But that’s not all. We found a bag full of—”
“Potato chips,” Chloe interjected, before Trace could spill the beans about the diamonds. “They were lying on the kitchen floor and Ramon had disappeared. I thought maybe something had happened to him.” She was lousy liar, which was evident by the expressions on the faces of her audience. But it was too late to backpedal now. “You know how Ramon loves potato chips. He wouldn’t leave a bag just lying around, especially on the floor. But maybe I am overreacting just a bit.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “Ready, Trace?”
He looked at the untouched beer in front of him. “Uh…sure.”
“’Bye, Ducky.” She leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “Be good.”
“I’ll be good if you’ll be a little bit bad,” Ducky replied. Then she turned to Trace, her brown eyes serious. “I want you to promise that you’ll take good care of my granddaughter.”
“Ducky…” Chloe muttered.
“Promise me,” Ducky said, her voice more intense now and her bony fingers squeezing his forearm.
He winced. “I promise.”
Ducky’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.” Then she turned to Chloe. “I like him. I think you should keep this one.”
“Ducky, like I told you before, this is only our first date.” And our last. She was surprised Trace Callahan had stuck around this long. It was highly doubtful he’d come back for more. “Besides, he thinks women should be seen and not heard.”
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