“Have you given her a bottle lately?”
“I asked, but it didn’t stop her crying so I assumed she didn’t want it.”
She groaned. “You don’t ask. You show her a bottle.” She walked over to the diaper bag, pulled out an empty bottle and kissed Bella’s shiny black hair. “Let’s go get you something to eat.”
Matt raced after her. “I don’t have anything for her to eat.”
“We’re just talking milk here.” She stopped, pivoted to face him. “Although we probably should feed her something before we give her a bottle.”
“I told you. I don’t have—”
She stopped him with a look. “Do you like oatmeal?”
He grimaced. “No.”
“Any cooked cereal at all?”
“No.”
She frowned and Matt’s heart sank. He was going to be a terrible father.
“Pudding?”
He brightened. “Yes! I love the little pudding cups. It’s a secret vice.”
“A secret vice that’s coming in handy.” She turned to walk away, but stopped again. “Where is the kitchen?”
He led the way down two halls, and after pushing through double swinging doors, they stood in his restaurant-size stainless-steel kitchen.
“Let me guess. There’s a ballroom somewhere in this house.”
“Not a ballroom,” he said, walking to the first refrigerator. “A party room.”
But he stopped and looked around, suddenly seeing what Claire saw. The house was big and beautiful, but it was also cold and intimidating. A child could get lost in here. And feel alone. He did not want Bella to feel alone. He did not want her going through what he went through.
Still, that was the whole point of getting a nanny. Though he might have to do more remodeling than just a nursery, the nanny would keep Bella busy, happy. As long as he didn’t get overwhelmed, he would work all this out.
He pulled open the refrigerator door, reached inside and came out with two little pudding cups. “Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Vanilla for now. Then one of us is going to have to go to a grocery store for real baby food.”
“Or we could call.”
“Call?”
After getting a spoon from a handy drawer, he directed her to a little table at the far end of the room. “Have a seat.”
She sat, settled Bella on her lap and took the pudding cup and spoon from his hands. Bella cooed and reached for it.
As Claire popped the lid, he headed for the desk in the other corner of the kitchen and sat in front of the computer. With a few strokes on the keyboard, he said, “Ah.”
She dipped the spoon into Bella’s pudding. “Ah?”
“I found our grocer.” He made a few clicks on his cell phone and put it to his ear. “This is Matt Patterson. I need to place an order.” He waited for his call to be transferred. When someone answered, he said, “This is Matt Patterson. I have a six-month-old baby at my home. I’ll need some baby food.” He paused, giving the clerk a chance to write down what he’d said. “And some milk.” Another pause. “For delivery. Thank you.” Then he hung up.
Sliding a spoon of pudding into Bella’s eager mouth, Claire said, “You didn’t even tell her what kind of baby food you wanted.”
“She’s paid to know. It’s an upscale store.”
Bella smacked her lips and grabbed Claire’s arm as if to direct her to give her another bite. Claire laughed. “She’s really hungry.”
“I see that.” He ambled over to the table. “Hey, kid.” He crouched so he was eye level with Bella. “You like that?”
She giggled. His first sense of relief in days flowed through him and he smiled. He might not know exactly what to do, but he did have enough money to hire people who did.
He rose. “So diaper is taken care of. Food is handled. I guess it’s time we order that crib?”
Bella screeched and slapped her chubby hands against the table. Claire quickly fed her more pudding, then she looked at him. “Yes. We should at least get a crib…and a high chair—oh, and a swing. And a baby monitor for while she’s napping. Once we go online and get item numbers—” She made a whirling motion with her hand. “Then you can call whoever it is you call for furniture and baby things and have them delivered.”
“Sounds like a plan.” A good plan. A wonderful plan. His common sense would carry him through. There was nothing to worry about.
Bella squealed happily, reinforcing his confidence, but a weird sensation tumbled through him. Sort of like he was forgetting something. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Still, if it was important he would remember.
He hoped.
AFTER only five minutes, Bella fell asleep on Claire’s arm.
“I think we should go back to the den so we can lay her down while we look for the crib and high chair.”
“I can do all this from my phone, if you don’t mind looking at this little screen together?”
Their gazes caught. A picture popped into her brain. Them, huddled together, looking at his phone. Her heart would shiver. She’d probably get breathless. All because her hormones had a mind of their own.
“I think the computer in the den is a better idea.”
Carrying Bella, she followed him through two ornate rooms, both of which could have been formal living rooms, but at this point she was beginning to see her understanding of houses and architecture was incredibly limited.
Walking to the den, she saw more crystal chandeliers, oriental rugs, hardwood floors and art—everything from paintings to sculptures, vases and blown glass—than she’d seen in her entire lifetime.
She glanced around uneasily. “How do you live in here?”
He opened the door and they walked into the overly neat den. “How do I live where?”
“In a house that’s more like a showplace than a house.”
“Because of rooms like this,” he said, passing the sofa, leading her to the desk with the computer.
She frowned. If he considered this room to be normal, comfortable, he was in worse shape than she’d thought.
He stopped suddenly. “You wanted to lay the
