Page 61 of The Bad Girl and the Baby

Chapter Fifteen

Matt stood on the lawn of the stately home, where the wedding was taking place. Darcy had told him it was a small affair. Obviously, people’s ideas of what constituted “small” differed drastically. But it was a beautiful place—the late summer leaves were just starting to turn on the huge oak trees. Flowers of every color lined the smooth lawns. Music drifted out from the open doorway.

Summer had arrived ten minutes ago, causing an explosion of excitement in his niece. He’d hefted her into his arms and carted her out just as her mouth opened on a scream. She’d shut it again. Once outside she’d informed him, very seriously, that she was going to vomit. She must have learned that word from Diana. It sounded odd and a little proper coming from a two-year-old.

He’d told her it would be a shame if she made a mess over her pretty new dress, and she’d decided she wasn’t going to hurl after all.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Lulu looked up at him with those big dark eyes and gave a solemn nod. “Lulu feel good. Back now?”

“Of course we can go back.”

He picked her up and carried her up the stone staircase and into the huge hall. The actual wedding was taking place in one of the reception rooms through a set of double doors.

Summer hadn’t gone in yet. Instead, she was standing outside with Regan and Darcy fussing around her. The bride seemed a little agitated, and he paused to listen.

“I told hersmall,” Summer said. “This isn’t small.”

“Well, you did leave everything to his mother,” Regan replied. “She’s not what I would call a ‘small’ person.”

“Just grit your teeth and think of the honeymoon,” Darcy added. “And, by the way, you look so beautiful I think I’m going to cry.”

Matt’s eyes strayed to Darcy. And stopped. She looked beautiful as well. Her dress was a copy of Lulu’s, a dusky purple sheath that left her arms bare and swept down to the floor. Otherwise, she’d made little concession to the wedding, with her hair spiked, her eyes ringed in black, and a purple stud in her nose. She caught his glance and waggled her fingers. Lulu waved wildly back and started bouncing again.

“Come on,” he murmured to her. “You can play with Darcy afterward. She has important work to do now.”

Before Lulu could express her disapproval of that idea, he whizzed her past the small group and slipped through the doors and into the room. Chairs were set out in rows. But Darcy had been right—it wasn’t that big a wedding, maybe around fifty guests. They all looked around as he entered, probably expecting the bride. He slid into an empty chair in the back row, settling Lulu onto his lap and hoping this wouldn’t take long.

Lulu wasn’t that good at sitting still.

The door opened. But no bride. What the hell were they doing out there? A man entered, carrying a small dog with a purple bow in its hair. Lulu went totally immobile on his lap, her gaze fixed on the little dog.

As the man sank into the seat next to them, Matt recognized him as Regan’s boyfriend, Nate, the ex-detective.

“Hi,” Nate said.

“Hi.” He nodded. “Nice…dog.” Actually, it looked more like a rat on a string. Maybe Lulu wouldn’t even realize that it was a dog.

Nate grinned. “Don’t be rude to Trixibell. She’ll get upset.”

Lulu reached out a hand, and the dog licked her fingers. “Woof.”

Oh hell, he could see what was going to happen next. He looked down at his niece. She was staring, totally entranced. “Lulu want.”

“Well, Lulu can’t have.”

She gritted her teeth, screwed up her face—

“Here,” Nate said quickly. He placed the end of the lead in Lulu’s small hand, and she grasped it tight, a huge smile splitting her face. Perhaps he should warn Nate that he might have a fight on his hands if he ever wanted Trixibell back. But for now, Lulu was happy. Matt shifted her onto the bench between them so she was in less danger of strangling the animal.

“What’s happening out there?” he asked.

“Summer’s having stage fright. She’ll be okay.”

At the front of the church, the groom stood, visibly twitching. Every few minutes, he’d glance over his shoulder toward the door where Summer would appear. Tall, blond, he reeked of money. He remembered Darcy telling him that Summer had snagged herself a billionaire, and that she wasn’t happy about it. “What’s Summer got against billionaires?” he asked.

“Has Darcy told you what Summer was in prison for?”

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