“What kind of incident?”
“Dude, I don’t like gossiping. That’s a Baudouin thing, not a DeLuca thing. Feels like we’re two little old ladies now sitting in a knitting circle. Ask the women.”
There was a reason Nate was David’s favorite cousin. He took the high road every damn time.
“Guys, dinner is ready.” Frankie called from just inside the sliding glass door leading the courtyard.
She was newly pregnant, and both the Baudouins and DeLucas were happy about that.
“Be right there, Sweet Cheeks.” Nate clapped a hand to David’s shoulder. “You know how to fix this, don’t you?”
“How?”
“Tell everyone you’re already seeing someone. She doesn’t even have to be real. Someone back home. Around here, everyone would respect that.”
He’d already thought of that. His great Aunt ChiChi would be on the phone to his mother to confirm, and his mother knew very well he hadn’t been seeing anyone. He’d just been back stateside a couple of weeks. But what if he pretended to date someone here? What if, for instance, he told everyone he was already dating Mallory? First, he’d clear it with her and make sure she understood it was all a ruse to throw the matchmakers off the trail of his scent. He’d have to be careful, but he wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with her. She could help him, and he could help her. Maybe get everyone to start calling her Mallory instead of “baby.” Only one man should call her baby, and that would be the man who got to sleep with her.
He didn’t know if this could work, but he’d be willing to try it. He was more than a little intrigued by Mallory ‘Baby’ Gilham.
“Nate? Have I ever told you that you’re a damned genius?”
***
“Watch now, Sugar. This is your favorite part. When they put the crown on her head. It weighs like, twenty pounds, maybe. You have to have a big, strong head to wear it well. And Elizabeth does, yes, she does.”
“Yip! Yark! Yark!” Sugar said, which meant that yes, she agreed, and that crown was some of the best bling she’d ever seen on the face of the earth.
Mallory reached for more popcorn and threw a kernel in Sugar’s direction, which she easily caught. It was day two of binging on season one of The Crown. Friday she’d blown through six episodes and finished the season this morning. Now they were starting over, watching the best ones. Tomorrow, she’d do her grocery shopping and Monday she had more children’s lessons at the Tap and Barre, covering for Sara, who was pregnant. Tuesday, she taught the senior citizens, which was always fun.
If her life seemed a little boring and routine these days, and a far cry from her days as a sorority sister at Kappa Delta, it was the way it would have to be from now on. She wanted a moratorium from men. Needed one. They always did nothing but cause her grief, heartache, and break her fool heart. Her fault, too, for thinking she had only one thing to offer a man. That was how she’d gotten into trouble with Adam in the first place. She’d met him at the bar and offered him a private lingerie show.
She’d never told Harper, but the whole reason she’d approached Adam in the first place is that he’d seemed kind. Safe. He didn’t make any sudden moves around a girl, for instance. But had she known that Harper had a thing for him, she never would have asked him over to the shop. It was a stupid idea, anyway, because she tended to get stupid around good-looking men.
“And I’m not doing that anymore.” Mallory said out loud.
“Yark! Yark! Yark!” Sugar hopped off the couch and ran to the front door where she began to sniff around the edge.
“What is it?” A moment later, there was a knock on the door. “Oh my god, Sugar, are you psychic?”
She wasn’t expecting anyone, and neither she nor her neighbor in the Victorian duplex she rented downtown ever had much company. When she peeked through the wink hole, her heart nearly stopped.
David DeLuca.
“What does he want?” She hissed.
Sugar wagged her tail, panting in excitement, but one thing Mallory had determined early on was that Sugar was far too trusting.
“He wants you to open the door,” David said from the other side.
Damn these thin doors. “Why?”
There were no words for a beat.
“Because it would be neighborly.”
She supposed he was right about that, damn this DeLuca. She swung it open. “I opened the door. Now what?”
He stood there, big and badass and giving her a wicked smile. “Now let me in. “
She folded her arms. “Why?”
“I guess neighborly isn’t going to work for me again.”
“No.”
“I brought you some cookies.” He pulled out a Savory Bistro paper bag from behind his back.
Now the man was speaking her language. “Well…okay then.”
She moved aside and he strode in, filling the room with his huge presence.
He bent down to pet Sugar, who rolled over for him, the hussy. “You busy?”
She didn’t answer his question and eyed the bag. “What kind of cookies are in there?”
He hadn’t handed them over. Maybe there weren’t cookies in there at all. She shouldn’t trust this man. He looked…dangerous. And now she was alone in her house with a sexy and dangerous man. Why had she let him inside? Her only sanctuary? Answer: still stupid, apparently. She took a step back and stood behind the couch.
His expression quickly went from playful to concerned. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mallory.”
“I know you won’t. I won’t let you.”
He moved toward the kitchen table. “I’m just going to set these right here.”
Great. Now he thought she was scared spitless of him. Treating her like a beaten and scared shelter puppy. She was so not afraid of him. More like scared of who she might become around him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who made it easy to remember she was off men. When she followed him into the kitchen and took a glance inside the bag, the cookies were Double-Double 50 Shades of Chocolate Chip cookies. Her favorite.
“Thank you for these.” She took one out and ate while she studied him. “And I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be when I know Kung-Fu?”
She did not know Kung-Fu, but let him think that she did. Anyway, she had a powerful kick from years of dancing. Good enough.
He cocked his head. “You know that stuff? I don’t. The Army didn’t teach me, though I wish they would have ‘cause it’s pretty cool.”
“Why are you delivering me cookies? Are you feeling guilty about yesterday? Because you should.”
He kicked out a chair with his foot and took a seat. “I probably shouldn’t have teased you. Sorry about that.”
“You’re forgiven.” She took another cookie.
Sugar yipped.
“You can’t have any,” Mallory said. “Chocolate isn’t good for you.”
As if she understood, Sugar went back to snoozing on the couch.
Maybe she should offer David one, but there were only twelve in here and it was Saturday night. All she had going on was Netflix and she was pretty sure he was going to walk out of here and hit the bar. Find a woman. Hook up. Maybe he didn’t need her cookies. Unfortunately, her upbringing came back to haunt her. Mama was a southern belle who said if you had enough you should always share.
“Here,” she said and handed him a cookie.
“Thanks.” He took it and consumed it in two bites.
“You’re not getting another one.”
“They’re for you.” He stretched his long legs out. “Here’s the thing. I need a favor, and I wonder if you’re game.”
Chapter 3
Mallory had a good idea of what kind of favor David DeLuca wanted and she was most definitely not playing. “Listen, just because I work in a lingerie store doesn’t mean that I’m ready to hook up with the first guy who takes an extra large condom from the pile.”
At that he quirked a brow and laughed. It was a deep rich laugh that almost
pulled a smile out of her. Almost.
“God, you’re funny.”
She wasn’t being funny at all. Dead serious. To make it clear, she pinched her lips and narrowed her eyes. “I’m serious, Mister.”
“Look, I’m not—okay, let me start over. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but every one of my cousins has made it their mission to fix me up with a woman while I’m here. A date to Founder’s Day. They want to help me find the love of my life. Get married and settled down. I’m sure all of them are very nice girls, but I’m not interested.”
“What’s wrong with nice girls?”
She had his number. He didn’t want a nice girl because they didn’t hook up. And for some reason, she apparently had ‘not a nice girl’ tattooed on her forehead in invisible ink only men could see.
“Nothing at all. I don’t want to be fixed up with any woman. Nice or not nice.”
“Why? Are you gay and haven’t come out of the closet?”
Hmm. This she could work with. Someone to hang out with and watch The Crown with her and Sugar. A friend, for once. It had been so long since she’d had a real friend. Someone who had her back.
“Uh, no.” He grinned. “Definitely not gay.”
Darn. “Okay, well I don’t see how I can help you. I’d talk to them, but I don’t think they’ll listen to me anymore than they’d listen to you.”
“You don’t need to talk to them. I’m thinking that what I need is someone to date while I’m here. That way they’ll stop bothering me.”
“Good idea. I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“You can be the woman I’m dating.”
“Me?”
Had the man not noticed her male repellant outfit? Yoga pants and an oversized Niners t-shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she didn’t have a stich of make-up on. Frankly, it was the only reason she’d let Mr. Sexy in the door. The male repellant was usually quite effective.
“Why not you?”
“Believe me, you won’t impress the relatives by dating me.”
“I’m not looking to impress them. I want them to leave me alone. When I date someone, it’s my choice. My call.” He stood up. “Look, I promise not to ask anything of you other than holding my hand in public. I’m not looking to hook up, either. The point is I’m passing through and this could really help me. I don’t want or need any more names and phone numbers. I need a date to Founder’s Day and until I have one they’re never going to let up on me. What do you say, Mallory?”
I say you’ve chosen the wrong girl. You’ve chosen someone with a reputation to live down. But you don’t know that yet, do you?
“So…what do I get out of this?”
“Anything you want. But how about I get them to stop calling you ‘Baby’ for starters? They should call you Mallory.”
“I’d kinda like that.”
“I’m only here two weeks. It would be a great help to me. What do you say, Mallory? Would you be my temporary girl?”
***
Two things had happened when David walked inside Mallory’s apartment.
One, he’d discovered that Mallory could probably dress in a paper sack and still turn him on. This he did not quite understand and quickly decided not to further examine.
Second, he was more intrigued than ever.
He knew he was large and tended to fill up a room, but her reactions were over the top protective. Someone had hurt her, and if that person happened to be in town and still able to fog up a mirror, he intended to fix that. He had less than two weeks to find the guy, and he was sure it was a guy.
“I don’t think you want me to be your temporary girl.” She took another cookie out of the bag. “Even though it would be great if everyone stopped calling me Baby. It’s a little old now.”
“I can get them to stop.”
“I guess it would also be nice for everyone to see that someone other than an SL would date me.”
“SL?”
“Stripper lover.”
He cleared his throat. She had a hell of a body, not that he could see much of it at the moment in that baggy shirt. “Actually, I don’t know how much I’ll help with that.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a DeLuca, and DeLucas are respected around here. Respected and everywhere. Don’t you know that?”
“Um, yeah. Sure I do.”
“You could maybe help clear up my reputation.” She moved a step closer to where he stood. “I got in a little bit of trouble a few months ago when I made a stupid decision. And now some people believe I’m not a nice girl. But I’m reformed. And off men.”
“That…doesn’t sound like it’s going to work out too well for me.”
“But I suppose I could fake-date you. That wouldn’t hurt.”
“How do we fake-date?”
“We go out together but it’s not really a date. Only we know that. Everyone else thinks it’s a date.”
“Right. Sounds good.” He was confused as to how this was much different from what he’d suggested but he understood it sounded a lot safer the way she’d put it. No expectations, in other words.
“So, okay. I’ll do it. I can be your temporary girl.”
“Great. I’ll start the ball rolling right away. Let everyone in the family know they can stop fixing me up. I’ll always refer to you as Mallory and insist everyone else do, too. Anything else you want out of this deal?”
She chewed on her lower lip for a minute, and pointed to the bag. “More of these cookies.”
“That’s my girl.”
On Tuesday night, David walked into the Savory Bistro and ordered more 50 Shades of chocolate chip cookies and two coffees to go. He paid, turned to go, and nearly ran into Regan DeLuca.
“Hey, you! I thought I saw you the other day walking down Main Street but I lost track of you.”
Would have been the day he ducked into the Boulder Holder. “Nope, couldn’t be me. I’m hard to miss.”
“It’s your lucky day! Have I got a phone number for you.” Regan fished in her bag. “Hold on. It’s right in here. She’s even Italian.”
“I’m actually not—”
“Lisa Biondolillo. Just wait a minute. Her family’s from Napa and own a vineyard. Aha! Here it is.” She handed him the piece of paper she’d fished out. “Very nice girl.”
“She sounds great, but I’ve already got a date for Founder’s Day.”
“Already? What about Lisa?”
“Like I said, I’m already taking someone here in town. So…thanks anyway.”
“Who are you taking?”
“Mallory.”
“Who’s Mallory? I don’t know a Mallory.”
“Yeah, I think you do. But some people call her Baby.”
“Oh, Baby!” Regan’s face flushed a little. “I feel guilty. I didn’t even know her real name.”
“Now you do.” David moved towards the exit. “Hey, do me a favor and tell everyone?”
“Try and stop me! This is big news. What should we call you two? How about Bavid? That has a nice ring to it.”
Mission accomplished, part one. From what he’d heard about this little town, the news would spread like wildfire by tomorrow morning. And he’d be able to stop avoiding the DeLuca cousins. He grinned and carried the coffees and cookies for the short walk to the Tap and Barre where he’d heard Mallory gave lessons every Tuesday night to the senior citizens. The twinkling lights down Main Street lit up the late August evening. There was a homey and enticing feel to the town of St. Helena. He could see why it might be a good place to settle down, should one be looking to settle down, that is. He still wondered what had brought Mallory here, and who, or what, had caused her to stay.
The dance studio was mirrored, a piano sitting in the back corner. He stood outside where, through the wide glass pane, he could clearly see Mallory standing by a pole and talking animatedly to her students. Tonight she was dressed like most dancers he’d seen, in a pink leotard, tights, and a black short skir
t. Her hair pulled up into a bun. She wrapped one long leg around the pole and slowly slid down.
David swallowed his tongue.
She was so incredibly beautiful. And had he mentioned…limber?
The class filled with blue-haired women applauded. Mallory took the hand of one of the women and led her to the dance pole. She then attempted to assist the senior in wrapping one leg around it, which really wasn’t working well from where David stood. But hey, points for effort. Mallory then went down the line, helping each senior citizen stretch a leg around the pole.
This was insanity.
Then David recognized his Aunt ChiChi. He watched, a lump of terror solid in his throat, as his aunt attempted to lift her leg around the pole. He winced, broke out in a sweat, then thunked his forehead against the window pane as his Aunt ChiChi lost her balance and was caught by Mallory. No harm done, it appeared, as Aunt ChiChi laughed and the rest of the crowd joined her. A few more women, a couple of more near-catastrophic injuries, and the class ended.
After a couple of more minutes, the ladies all filed out one by one past David. Including Aunt ChiChi.
Not awkward at all.
“David! Why haven’t you come by to see me yet?”
He set his coffees down and gave her a hug. “Only been here a few days. Are you okay, Aunt ChiChi?”
Sue him if he was a little worried here. She appeared to be limping.
“Oh, I’m always a little sore after Baby’s class.” She waved an arthritic hand dismissively. “I’ll just go home, ice my hip, and be good as new.”
“Good idea. Do you need me to walk me to your car?” Or perhaps a ride to the ER?
“I’m fine. I’ll get plenty of TLC when I get home. But what are you doing here?”
“Came to see my date for Founder’s Day.”
“You already have a date? And here I was, ready to give you the phone number of the granddaughter to my dearest friend in the world. I don’t give that number out to just anyone. Her name is Kristie Jae Maynard. Beautiful girl. Who are you taking? I’m sure whoever it is I probably know her.”
“You sure do.” He jutted his chin toward his temporary girl. “Mallory.”
St. Helena Vineyard Series: Forever My Girl (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 2
