Bachelor By Design: Bachelor By Design / Too Hot For Comfort

“Date?” A wrinkle creased Nina’s brow. “What about Kimberly?”

“Kimberly is out of the picture,” Jake said, sparing the details. “Chloe is in. Madame Sophia matched them up.”

Nina’s eyes widened. “Oh, Trace. How wonderful! You’ve finally met your match.”

“You can say that again,” Jake said with a chuckle.

“Chloe D’Onofrio is not my perfect match. I’m only doing this for Aunt Sophie. Once she sees how wrong we are for each other, maybe she’ll stop trying to interfere in my love life.”

Nina looked thoughtful. “You know, it is possible Sophie made a mistake.”

“Hey,” Jake interjected as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I thought you were a believer.”

“I am,” Nina insisted. “But Sophie did confide to me that there was a mix-up with your coffee cups when she secretly confiscated your coffee grounds. She wasn’t exactly certain which coffee cup belonged to which Callahan.”

“Wonderful,” Trace said dryly. “I knew it was all a big mistake.”

“So give Noah a call,” Jake said.

Trace scowled at him. “Why?”

“So he can get together with Chloe. She must be his perfect match.”

Nina pulled a quarter out of her purse. “I’ll call him right now on the pay phone around the corner. He’s investigating a possible arson case this afternoon, but he could probably take your place on this date tonight.”

“No!” His tone was more strident than he intended. Clearing his throat, he spoke more calmly. “Noah could never handle a woman like Chloe.” He squared his shoulders. “I’ll suffer through it.”

“All right,” Nina agreed with a shrug. “But you two don’t give your little brother enough credit. I was here with him earlier today when he tried on his tux.” She sighed. “He looked so handsome. Three women came in off the street when they saw him through the window.”

“Speaking of handsome,” Jake said, holding out his arms and executing a slow turn in his tuxedo. “What do you think?”

She tapped one finger on her chin as she took her time studying her fiancé. Then she turned her analytical eye to Trace. “Well, if you want to know the truth…”

“We can take it,” Trace said.

Nina’s mouth curved into a slow smile. “Then I’d say Chloe D’Onofrio and I are the two luckiest women on the planet.”

3

CHLOE HAD NEVER had so much trouble preparing for a date. First, her curling iron went on the blink, leaving her bangs hanging down in her eyes. Too pressed for time to go out and buy another one, she had to settle for sweeping her hair off her forehead and securing it with a silver filigree hair clip. Then her topaz ring snagged on her only decent pair of panty hose, causing a run from knee to thigh. She halted any further damage with a dab of clear fingernail polish, then rummaged through her closet for something long enough to cover up the run. She finally settled on a colorful broom skirt and a matching red peasant blouse.

Then there was Ramon.

“I’m the head of the family now,” he said, propping his skinny form against the door frame in the open doorway of the upstairs bathroom. “And I don’t like the idea of you dating Trace Callahan. Call it off.”

“I made you a pot roast with carrots and potatoes for supper.” Chloe leaned close to the mirror as she carefully applied a touch of mascara to her long, dark lashes. “If you eat all your vegetables, you can have some mocha ice cream for dessert.”

Ramon wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like pot roast. Besides, I have plans tonight.”

Chloe turned to look at her brother. His shoulder-length brown hair was slicked back into a neat ponytail. He wore a blue pinstripe shirt and crisply pressed denim blue jeans. He’d shaved recently too, judging by the small tuft of toilet paper stuck to his chin. “Plans? What kind of plans?”

He shrugged. “I’d rather not say.” Then his brown eyes widened in dismay. “And you changed the subject again. We were talking about Callahan.”

She turned back to the mirror, able to see his reflection in the glass. “What about him?”

“He’s not your type, Chloe. I’ve heard he even has a list of requirements for the perfect wife.”

“Don’t worry, Ramon. I’m not interested in the job.”

“I still forbid you to go out with him. I don’t trust the man, and I certainly don’t like him. He wouldn’t let me handle any of his precious tools at work today.” His mouth drew down in a pout. “Except the broom.”

“You’re an apprentice,” Chloe reminded him. “You’ve got to start somewhere. Just give it some time.”

Ramon shook his head. “I don’t have that much time. I’m already twenty-two years old.”

She laughed. “I’ll buy you a walker for your next birthday.”

“I’m serious, Chloe. Life is passing me by. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Zilch. Nada.” He took a deep breath. “It’s time to make some changes.”

The hairs prickled on the back of her neck. “What kind of changes?”

He scowled. “You did it again. You changed the subject. We were talking about you and Callahan.”

She turned to face him, a tube of raspberry-red lipstick in her hand. “Right now we’re talking about you. I want to know exactly what kind of changes you’re planning to make.”

“It’s a secret.”

She took a step toward him. “Ramon, don’t do anything foolish.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We both know what it means. I know the past few years have been rough for you. Especially after Dad died.” She didn’t want to admit they’d been rough for her, too. The sudden death of Theo D’Onofrio eight years ago had left Chloe, a naive nineteen-year-old, in sole charge of her sullen fourteen-year-old brother. She’d tried her best to raise him right, with plenty of unsolicited advice from her incarcerated mother and assorted D’Onofrios.

“I miss him,” Ramon admitted. “He was my hero.”

Just the words she didn’t want to hear. “I loved Dad, too. But he had his faults. He was too smart to waste his life cracking safes. He could have done so much more.”

Ramon’s eyes sparked with anger. “Theo D’Onofrio was the best jewel thief in the country. The police never even came close to touching him.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But the stress of evading them all those years took its toll. He was only forty-seven when his heart gave out.”

Ramon’s shoulders drooped. “The same thing could have happened if he’d been a plumber or a banker. Besides, he loved his work.”

Sometimes Chloe wondered if her father had loved his work more than he’d loved his family. They’d never been able to stay in one place long—making it necessary for Chloe and Ramon to change schools often. They’d had to lie, too, whenever anyone asked them what Theo D’Onofrio did for a living. He’s in the security business was their standard reply. Only they refrained from mentioning that his specialty was breaking security.

Still, it hadn’t been a bad life. The D’Onofrios were a close-knit family, and they’d always been able to depend on each other. Which was the reason Chloe wasn’t about to let her brother down—whether he wanted her help or not.

“Times are different now,” she said briskly, turning back to the mirror. “The police have much more sophisticated equipment to track stolen merchandise. So if you’re thinking of taking up where Dad left off, think again.”