her stop.”
Jimmy backed off. “No, sir. Confirmed bachelor.” He tugged both ends of his bow tie jauntily. “Happily single. Not daddy material.”
Remembering what Claire had asked him, he said, “No nieces or nephews?”
“Several but I don’t take to them until they’re old enough to go the bathroom on their own and get into the casinos in Atlantic City.”
He sighed. “An excellent plan.” His plan. Until circumstance changed things.
Bella’s screams grew louder. He raised his voice to be heard above the sobbing. “So how do we get her into the house?”
Jimmy stepped back again. “Sorry. Not in my job description. In fact, I think I’ll go make sure the limo’s place in the garage is cleared.”
He raced away and Matt scowled. See if the place in the garage is cleared? What a line.
He turned back to the baby. “So…what? You want food? A bottle? Some Scotch?” He knew she didn’t want the third, but the terror riding his blood right now had him giddy. He’d like a Scotch. But he knew he wasn’t getting one. Might not ever get one again until this child turned eighteen.
With Bella wailing beside him, he knew he had a choice. Sit in this limo for God knew how long until the adoption agency woman arrived. Or get Bella out of her car seat and into the house.
A cold wind blew alongside the car. The open door caught it and sent frigid air swirling into the limo. A few drops of rain pelted the limo roof, then the rain started full force.
“Crap.”
He reached for the door and slammed it closed. Bella’s wails echoed around him.
Jimmy suddenly appeared at the driver door. “Let’s get this in the garage!”
“Good idea.”
The sound of Bella screaming competed with the drumming of rain on the roof, making a horrendous racket. Matt squeezed his eyes shut, popped them open and turned to Bella. “Come on, kid. You knew me at the adoption agency office.” He pointed at his chest. “I’m Mommy’s friend.”
Her crying only increased when they pulled into the garage. Being indoors seemed to cause the sound to ricochet off the walls and reverberate through him.
He peeked at her face. Little blue eyes watery and sad. Her nose red. Her lips trembling.
He scrubbed his hand across his mouth. He couldn’t stand to see her like this. He had to do something!
Noting that Jimmy had disappeared as soon as the limo lurched to a stop, he reached for the buckles of her car seat. Once he had her out of the car seat, he’d carry her into the house and maybe the movement of walking would calm her down?
He found a clasp at her belly that, when opened, allowed him to raise two straps over her head. A buckle by her hip released the bottom strap. When he jiggled the padded half circle around her, he discovered it rose, too.
But with all of her trappings gone, Bella fell forward. He just barely caught her. And when she plopped against him, she wiped her wet face in the lapel of his silk suit.
He groaned.
She clung to him. Using his lapels like a rope ladder, she climbed up and burrowed into his neck.
His heart knotted with confusing emotions. Fear and misery wanted to dominate. He had no idea what to do with this kid. Barely any idea how to get her into the house.
But sympathy snaked through the fear. She was alone. Lost. He knew what it was like to be alone and lost. Except he could also add unwanted. The morning after their legendary fight, Cedric might have retracted his demand that Matt leave the Patterson home, but too many harsh words had been spoken. Up until then, Matt had called Cedric Dad, believed they were blood. But in that awful fight, Cedric had let loose of the big family secret.
Matt and his twin were not Cedric’s children. His mother had been married before. She’d left her first husband not knowing she was pregnant, and Cedric had taken her in, raised her children as his own.
It explained why Matt had always felt a distance between himself and Cedric, always felt a nagging sense of not being wanted, not really having a place, not having a home—
He looked at Bella. Orphaned. Alone. With a guy who didn’t even know how to get her to stop crying, let alone how to feed her. She could have heard the conversation he’d had with Jimmy about not wanting kids. Not being daddy material. And though he knew that on a logical level she didn’t understand a word they’d said, on an emotional level, she’d recorded it all.
Did she feel unwanted?
He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. His chest shivered with regret. Then he popped his eyes open again, caught Bella beneath the arms and lifted her so they were eye to eye.
“I am sorry for everything that has happened to you in the past few days.” His eyes squeezed shut again, as his own grief over losing Ginny and Oswald swamped him. “Very sorry. I’m going to miss your mama, too. But you’re mine now. And that means something.”
He wasn’t sure what it meant. He knew—to use Jimmy’s phrasing—that he wasn’t daddy material. The best he could do for this kid might be to hire a great nanny or a team of nannies—or maybe find the best nanny on the planet and give her every cent of his money to raise this little girl. But whatever he decided, Matt Patterson didn’t abdicate responsibility or say die without a fight.
And as soon as he figured out how to fight, he would fight.
He slid out of the limo, Bella in his arms, and headed for the door into the mansion.
With his resolve in place, he noticed Bella’s crying but he reacted to it differently. Something was wrong. He had to fix it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t know how. She didn’t feel wet. She wasn’t generating any god-awful smells. So he steered clear of the diaper area. He asked about food. Mimed feeding himself. She only cried harder. He tried dancing. A couple waltzing twirls caused her to blink in confusion and quit crying for a few seconds, but when he stopped dancing she started crying.
He danced again. Around and around and around the foyer they went. Back to the den where he deposited the diaper bag, took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt—all while dancing a baby around the sofa.
They danced through the empty kitchen. Up the hall. Around the dining room table. Across the sunroom. Until he felt dizzy and his legs became rubbery.
Where the hell was the adoption agency woman…Claire? Where the hell was Claire?
As if she’d heard him, the gate buzzer sounded. He raced to the com unit and hit the button. “Claire?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
Her musical voice sent sensation skipping down his spine, bringing her pretty face and sensual body to mind. If she were any other person, if he’d met her any other way, he would date her—
Oh, who was he kidding? He’d
