Fortune's Little Heartbreaker. Cindy Kirk
Oliver announced.
“That’s, ah, correct.” Shannon, who’d appeared relaxed only moments before, now appeared ready to bolt.
The fact puzzled Oliver. He’d been under the impression that while Shannon and Jensen weren’t well acquainted, they were on good terms.
“Will you have a cup?” Oliver asked his brother. “I have Fortnum & Mason.”
Jensen’s smile gave Oliver his answer, while Shannon’s brows pulled together.
“Fortnum & Mason is a popular British tea manufacturer. They have a Smoky Earl Grey blend that Oliver—and almost everyone in the family—prefers,” Jensen explained before Oliver could open his mouth.
“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’ll have to pass.” Shannon appeared to make a great show of looking at her watch. “We can talk another time, Oliver. I have plans and I’m sure you and your brother have a lot to discuss.”
Oliver’s heart gave an odd lurch. He surprised himself by crossing the room, taking her arm and leading her back to her seat at the table. “Nonsense. You’re staying for tea.”
“Down,” Ollie called out. “Want down.”
“I can get—” Shannon began.
Oliver held up a hand, then fixed his gaze on his son. “What do you say?”
Ollie stared at him with innocent blue eyes before his mouth widened into a grin. “Pease.”
“Good man.” Oliver lifted his son down from the high chair.
Jensen exchanged a look with Shannon. “Amazing.”
Shannon cocked her head, but before Jensen could explain, Oliver looked up from wiping Ollie’s hands.
“Nothing amazing about it. Child rearing is no different from running a successful business enterprise. Rules and order are essential.” Oliver shifted his gaze to Shannon. “My brother expected me to be a bumbling feckwit incapable of rearing my son.”
Oliver pulled out a bin containing an assortment of toys, placing several before Ollie on the rug within eyeshot of the kitchen table. The whistling teakettle brought him back to the stove, where he produced three cups of the steaming brew in short order.
“Surely he’s seen you in action before?” Shannon cradled the “I Love Texas” mug in her hands with an unexpected reverence.
“Oliver only recently gained custody of Ollie,” Jensen explained. “After Diane...”
Jensen stopped and slanted Oliver an apologetic glance. In their family, private matters weren’t usually discussed in the presence of a guest.
“Diane was my ex-wife,” Oliver explained. “The divorce was already in process when Ollie was born. Because I believed a child—a baby especially—needed his mother, I didn’t fight her for custody. She recently died in a car accident.”
“She shouldn’t have been out that night.” Jensen’s voice rose and anger flashed in his eyes. “She should—”
“Enough.”
The quietly spoken word was enough to stop Jensen’s potential tirade in its tracks.
“She was Ollie’s mother.” Looking back, the person Oliver blamed most was himself. He should have paid more attention. He should have known that Diane was spending more time with her new boyfriend than with Ollie. “The accident occurred fairly recently.”
He felt Shannon’s hand on his arm, looked up to find her soft eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“We’d been divorced over a year.”
“You were also once married to her. That means you once loved her.” She gave his forearm a squeeze, then removed her hand.
Oliver nodded briskly.
Diane hadn’t wasted any time finding another man once the baby was born. She’d been with yet another man when she died. That’s why the sadness he’d experienced upon hearing of her passing had blindsided him. He finally accepted it was understandable, given this was a woman he’d once known and loved.
Jensen steepled his fingers and his gaze settled on Shannon. “I understand you work for your father.”
“I do.” She sipped her tea and her smile told Oliver she found it pleasing. “The Triple S is a large spread. I do mostly administrative work, but in a pinch I’m able to do just about anything—feed cattle, vaccinate, castrate...”
“Good Lord.” The words popped from Oliver’s lips before he could stop them.
“You’re in the Wild West now, brother.” Jensen grinned. “Oh, and before I forget, I brought you some more names of possible nannies for Ollie. These are from Amelia since you didn’t appear happy with any of the ones Amber and I suggested.”
“I’m very particular when it comes to my son,” Oliver said without apology.
Jensen took a sip of tea, then lifted the mug higher to read the inscription—“This Ain’t My First Rodeo.” His lips twitched and he shook his head before taking another drink. Seconds later he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “The latest list.”
“Perfect,” Oliver pronounced. “We’ll take care of this right now.”
Jensen tilted his head back. “How do you propose to do that?”
“Miss Singleton knows everyone in the area.” Oliver smiled at Shannon. “She and I will go through the names over dinner and decide which ones to interview.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Shannon set down her mug, the flash of irritation in her eyes at odds with her easy tone. “I have plans.”
“Break them,” Oliver ordered. “This is more important. A child’s welfare is at stake.”
* * *
The men in Shannon’s family often told their friends that she was a contradiction: a purring kitten and a ready-to-strike rattler. The consensus seemed to be it was best not to push her too far.
The good humor drained from Shannon’s body. Did the rich and powerful Oliver Fortune Hayes really think he could, with a cavalier wave of his hand, dismiss her plans for the evening?
There was no reason for him to know that those plans were fluid. Several friends planned to eat and drink their way through platters of nachos and bottles of Corona beer at the Hollows Cantina during happy hour. They’d told her to join them if she was free.
But as Shannon opened her mouth to reiterate she had plans, his words gave her pause. As much as she didn’t want Oliver to think he could bring her to heel with a single wave of those elegant fingers, she wanted him to find a suitable nanny for Ollie.
You’d think after growing up with four younger siblings—and years spent babysitting—she should be tired of children. But she loved them. Not just the small ones. She even got a kick out of the often obnoxious teenagers from Lubbock who came out to ride horses as part of a Country Connection program.
Ollie was such a cute little guy and he’d recently lost his mother...
“Shannon.” Oliver reached across the table and took her hand. “Please. I need your help.” His tone was softer this time.
Heat rose up her arm. For a second she forgot how to speak. She licked her lips. When his eyes darkened, her resistance melted into a liquid pool.
“I’d love to stay and chat, but Amber is expecting me.” Jensen attempted to hide his grin by raising the cup to his lips for one last swallow. “It appears you two have a lot to, uh, discuss.”
Shannon flushed. “Be sure to tell Amber hello from me.”
“I