Falling For Fortune

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 will give her your regards.” Jensen gave a slight bow of his head, all serious now. One hundred percent British. He turned and handed Oliver the promised list. “The names.”

“Thank you.” Oliver took the list in his left hand, extended his right. The two men shook.

Shannon blinked at the civilized gesture. She tried to imagine her brothers shaking hands and...couldn’t. Punching each other, heck yes. That occurred on a daily basis.

Because the men were standing, she also rose to her feet. Jensen shook her hand before he left.

With a resigned sigh, Shannon turned to Oliver. She had to admit she was curious whom Amelia had recommended. She gazed pointedly at the list dangling from his fingers. “May I see it?”

With paper in hand, Shannon wandered back to the table and sat. Taking a gulp of tea, she narrowed her gaze and scanned the names.

After putting down a few more toys for Ollie, Oliver took a seat across from her.

“What do you think?” he asked when several seconds had passed. “Any good possibilities?”

Shannon laid the paper on the table and sat back. “Do you want tactful? Or honest?”

Oliver’s gaze lingered on her face, and a curious energy filled the air. An invisible web of attraction wrapped around them. When he leaned forward, Shannon was sure he was going to kiss her.

Unable to move, she held her breath and stared into those brilliant blue eyes.

His lips were a heartbeat away when little Ollie let out a high-pitched squeal. Shannon turned her head just in time to see him gleefully knock down the stack of blocks.

Though he’d recently lost his mother, the child appeared happy and content, with the dog sitting upright beside him. Right now all was well in his life, and that warmed her heart. But the little boy’s world could quickly take a nosedive if Oliver hired any of the women Amelia had suggested.

She shifted her gaze back to Oliver. The moment had vanished. It was almost as if it had never existed. This made Shannon wonder if it had been simply wishful thinking on her part.

“Quinn isn’t much for gossip and your sister is relatively new to Horseback Hollow.” Shannon strove to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “I grew up here. I keep my ear to the ground.”

The expression seemed to puzzle Oliver. His dark brows pulled together.

“I know everything that goes on in this town,” she clarified. “Things your sister and even her husband might not know.”

Understanding filled his eyes. “Tell me.”

“Will you keep it confidential?” Though Shannon liked to have the scoop, she wasn’t a gossip. Okay, not much of one. The only reason she was considering sharing what she knew with Oliver was to protect Ollie.

“Most certainly.”

Based on what Shannon had observed, Oliver appeared to be an honorable man who loved his son and wanted the best for him.

Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake dissing women his sister had recommended, Shannon went through the names on the list one by one. By the time they’d gone through three, Ollie had tired of his toys and was rubbing his eyes and whining. Barnaby sprawled on a nearby rug, snoring lightly.

“Let’s break for a few minutes.” Oliver rose to his feet. “I need to change Ollie’s nappy and put him down for a kip.”

He inclined his head, and she knew what he was asking without him saying a word.

“I’ll wait.”

“Your dinner plans?”

“No worries.” Though it was almost five and the start of happy hour was seconds away, Shannon was no longer in a hurry to leave. “While you’re taking care of Ollie, I’ll make us another cup of that delicious tea.”

“Thank you.”

When he and his son disappeared down the hall, Shannon sent a quick text to her friends, canceling her appearance, then put the kettle on. By the time he returned from the bedroom, the tea was ready.

“How is he?” She placed the two cups on the table.

“Dry and sleeping.” He gestured toward the steaming tea. “Thank you for that...and for staying.”

“I let my friends know I’d be late.” She raised a hand when he started to protest. “I want to finish this with you. We only have two names left.”

He studied her for a long moment before dropping his gaze down to the list and pointing. “What about this one?”

“Sally Steinacher drinks.” When Oliver opened his mouth, she continued. “Not just socially. She has a problem. The family did an intervention last year and she went through treatment, but she’s fallen off the wagon. Last week when I was in Vicker’s Corners, I spotted her coming out of a liquor store with a sack.”

“Perhaps she was buying for a friend or a family member,” Oliver suggested.

Shannon gave him a pitying glance. “What kind of friend or relative would send an alcoholic to buy them liquor? Even if someone were that stupid, Rachel and I ran into her later on the street and we both smelled alcohol on her breath.”

Oliver lined through her name with a single precise stroke of his Montblanc pen, the same way he’d done with the previous three names. “We’ve now reached the last person on the list. Is Cissy Jirovec a possibility?”

The hopeful look in his eye vanished when Shannon shook her head.

“She used to live in Horseback Hollow. Cissy calls Vicker’s Corners home now. She’s a nice person and I know she did a lot of babysitting while she was growing up.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

There was something about having those vivid blue eyes focused on her that Shannon found unsettling. “The problem isn’t with Cissy. It’s with her boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t be hiring him.”

“Wayne used to live in Horseback Hollow. He has a bad temper.”

“What does her relationship with this man have to do with her suitability for the position?”

“Wayne has a child from a relationship with another woman in Lubbock. Several years ago he lost his temper and broke his daughter’s arm. The doctors in the ER found other healed injuries when they examined the little girl. He was charged with felony child abuse. I read all about it in the Lubbock paper.”

“He did this to his own child?”

“He did.” Shannon nodded solemnly. “I would hope Cissy wouldn’t invite Wayne over while she was watching Ollie. But if Ollie were my son, I wouldn’t take the risk.”

Just as he had with the previous four names, Oliver drew a line through Cissy’s name. With one hand he crumpled the sheet of paper.

“I might have hired one of these women.” There was a look of restrained horror on his face.

“On the surface they look good. But, don’t despair. The placement agency you’re working with is top-notch. They’ll do a good job of screening the candidates for you.” She offered him a reassuring smile. “You’ll find that right someone soon.”

Oliver shook his head. “I think I’ve just found her. I want you to watch Oliver.”

“Pardon me?”

“Name your price.”

“Mr. Fortune Hayes—”

“Oliver,” he interrupted, offering her a smile that turned her bones to liquid. “If we’re going to be living under the same roof, it makes sense to be on a first-name basis.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you saying?”

“We should be on a first-name basis. Don’t you agree?”

“I—I suppose.”

“Splendid.” The smile that split his face made him look almost boyish. “Shall we shake on it...Shannon?”

Chapter Four

“Shake on what? I haven’t agreed to any deal.” Shannon stuck her hands behind her back. Thank goodness the words came out casual and offhand.

“Smart woman. It’s always best to discuss terms on the front end.” He leaned forward in a companionable gesture, resting his forearms on the table.

The gesture somehow made him seem more approachable and appealing. Although if he got much more appealing, Shannon might jump him and rip off that pristine white shirt and perfectly knotted tie.

When Shannon didn’t speak, he simply smiled. “You obviously know your negotiating techniques. Okay, I’ll toss out an amount.”

“We’re not negotiating,” Shannon protested. “Look, Mr. Fortune Hay—”

“Oliver,” he said, once more not playing fair by flashing that enticing smile. “We decided on first names.”

“Okay, Oliver.” Shannon raked back her hair with her fingers, her heart pounding. Why did she feel as if she was in a race she was destined to lose? A race that, in some ways, she wanted to lose? “I—”

Before she could say more, he tossed out a number that had her forgetting what she’d been about to say.

“I believe that’s a fair offer.”

“Per...?” She really didn’t want to say per month if he meant every two weeks, but it was an amazing sum of money either way.

“Week.”

Shannon tried to control her expression by counting to ten in her head. The amount was five times what she’d been making in Lubbock. She swallowed past her suddenly dry throat and shifted in her seat. “If you’re offering to pay that much, I’m surprised you don’t have women—and men—beating down the door to work for you.”

“That’s not the salary the agency suggested. They told me the going rate in the area and I agreed to it.” His gaze searched her eyes. “I’m a businessman, Shannon. I’m willing to pay for quality. It’s as simple as that.”

Shannon never considered she could be bought, but then again she’d never been offered so much money for a position she knew she’d enjoy. Working for her father was fine, but he really didn’t need her. Little Ollie did.

Oliver turned his head slightly to the side. “What do you say?”

Shannon wiped suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. “Before we discuss salary any further, I’d like to know your expectations.”

He nodded approvingly and studied her for another long moment.

“Timewise, London is six hours ahead of Horseback Hollow.” He gestured with an open palm to the clock on the wall in the shape of a rooster. “This means that much of my business will be conducted very early in the morning. That’s why living in is nonnegotiable.”

“I could come first thing in the morning, say at six a.m.” She’d almost said five, but that was her father’s favorite time to roll out of bed, not hers.

“That won’t work.” Oliver tapped a finger on the table. “If I’m speaking with a client at two a.m. and Ollie starts crying and needs attention, I need someone here who can tend to him.”

“He could spend the night with me at my parents’ home.” The words came out in a rush, before she even considered what her folks might think about having a toddler underfoot. All she knew was the idea of being under the same roof with Oliver Fortune Hayes night after night was...disturbing. “That way, you could conduct business without any interruptions at all.”

When she finished speaking, Oliver shook his head. The set of his jaw said there would be no changing his mind. “I want Ollie’s schedule to be disrupted as little as possible. If I hadn’t already canceled other trips to see my family, I’d have canceled this one and remained in London. Ollie has experienced more changes in the past few months than any little boy should have to face.”

“You care about him.”

Oliver looked perplexed. “Did you think I didn’t?”

Well, she wanted to say, sometimes you treat him like just one more thing in your life you need to handle. But she knew that wasn’t being fair. Her interaction with Oliver and his son had been minimal.

“No, of course not.” Shannon blew out a breath. “You’re probably right about not injecting more change into his life.”

He relaxed in his chair. “Any other concerns you’d like to discuss?”

Shannon cleared her throat. “What about meal preparation, laundry and housecleaning duties? Would those be something you’d expect from me?”

“Negotiable.”

“I would need time off.”

“I’m not a slave driver, Shannon.” His lips lifted in a boyish smile before he became all business again. “At a minimum I would require you to be here between the hours of midnight to noon, Monday through Friday. However, I’d prefer that during the working week you remain on duty until six p.m. That would allow me to have some sleep knowing Ollie is safe under your care.”

Though he was proposing some pretty long hours, she would have every evening free. Other than Rachel, most of her friends worked eight-to-five jobs, and this really would be no different. “What about weekends?”

“Those days are yours.”

She tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. “It’s tempting.”

“I’d like you to start immediately.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Bucko.” The word, commonly used by Shannon and her sibs, slipped out before her lips could trap it and swallow it whole.

“Bucko?” Oliver raised one dark brow. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with the term.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly.

Sheesh, the guy was appealing. And that was part of her concern.

Shannon jerked her gaze from those lips and squared her shoulders. There was no getting around it. The elephant in the room had to be addressed. “There’s one thing we haven’t yet discussed. How you respond may be the difference between my accepting your offer or respectfully declining it.”

Oliver’s eyes turned flat. He folded his hands before him on the table, his gaze never wavering from her face. “You have my undivided attention.”

The fact that Oliver was being so businesslike should have made it easier to spit out the words stuck in her throat. But somehow, having those blue eyes focused so intently on her made her feel like a schoolgirl about to admit to a crush. Dear God, what if she’d only imagined the chemistry between them?

Shannon shifted in her seat and hesitated, despite knowing there was nothing to do at this point but take a deep breath and plunge ahead.

She focused her gaze on a spot over his left shoulder. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve noticed this crazy kind of electricity between us. That’s why I think it’s important we agree up front to keep things strictly platonic between us. Giving in to the attraction would only complicate the situation.”

She was out of breath by the time she finished. Had he been able to understand what she was trying to say? She’d spoken so fast—too fast—the words tripping over each other in her haste to get them out.

“Electricity?”

Of course if he was going to pick one word to focus on, it would naturally be that one. But it was the twinkle in those blue eyes that had her jerking to her feet, a hot flush shooting up her neck.

“Forget it. Forget I said anything. This isn’t going to work.” To her horror, her voice shook slightly.

It wasn’t the hint of amusement in his eyes that had gotten to her. It was the frustration of not being able to make herself heard. Of her concerns and feelings being summarily dismissed.

That’s how it had been with Jerry the Jerk. No matter how many different ways she’d told him to back off—that she wasn’t interested—he never heard her.

Because he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Because I didn’t matter.

As emotions flooded her, Shannon whirled toward the door.

She’d taken only a step or two when Oliver grabbed her arm, his expression contrite.

“I didn’t mean to wind you up.” He loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “You have my word as a gentleman that I will never take advantage of you while you’re under my roof and in my employ.”

Shannon blew out a shaky breath and swayed slightly, conscious of his hand on her arm. He stood an arm’s breadth away, near enough for the intoxicating scent of his cologne to tease her nostrils and make her want to lean close.

Step back, she told herself. She needed to put some distance between her and Oliver. That way she could think. That way she could breathe.

But her feet were as heavy and unmoving as if rooted in concrete. At that moment Shannon didn’t have the energy—or the desire—to move.

Instead she tilted her head back and once again found herself drowning in the shockingly blue depths of Oliver’s eyes.

Oliver stepped toward her, hand outstretched.

The heat in his gaze ignited a fire in her belly.

A zillion butterflies fluttered in her chest. Shannon moistened her lips and, as she caught another whiff of his cologne, reconsidered her hardline stance of only a moment ago.

One kiss.

What would really be wrong with one little kiss?

After all, people shook hands all the time to seal a deal. How would this be any different? Even as the rational piece of her brain still capable of cognizant thought told her it was indeed very different, she extended her hand.

Shannon waited for him to take her fingers and tug her to him. Waited for that magic moment when he would enfold her in a warm embrace before covering her mouth with his...

Her lips were already tingling with anticipation when his hand closed over hers and he gave it a decisive shake. “To new beginnings.”

Even as a tsunami-sized wave of disappointment washed over her, Shannon forced herself to breathe and made her lips curve in an easy smile.

Regroup, she told herself.

Her father always said actions spoke louder than words. By his actions, Oliver had shown he was a man of his word. A man she could trust. There was something even more important Shannon had learned today.

She had more to fear from herself than from him.

* * *

Happy Hour at the Hollows Cantina had been going for close to two hours by the time Shannon strolled through the front door. She wasn’t surprised to find standing-room-only in the bar area.

Her friends tried to squeeze her in at their table, but even if she could have located a spare chair, there was no room for one more.

“That’s okay.” Shannon waved a hand in the direction of the bar. “I’ll just mingle.”

“I’m coming with you.” Rachel’s heels had barely hit the shiny hardwood before her chair was snatched away.

Good old Rachel, Shannon thought with a warm rush of affection. She could always count on her.

The two women wove their way through the crowd, stopping every few feet to chat with friends and acquaintances while keeping an eye out for a couple of empty spots at the bar. They finally snagged two stools when a young couple got up abruptly and hurried off, hands all over each other.

“Get a room,” someone yelled, and laughter rippled through the crowd.

A bartender approached to wipe the counter and take their order.

“The nachos are my treat,” Shannon announced.

Rachel narrowed her gaze. “What’s got you feeling so generous?”

“Tonight is a special occasion.” Shannon smiled her thanks as the bartender placed a bottle of Corona beer sporting a wedge of lime in front of her. Before he rushed off he assured her the nachos would be out shortly. “We’re celebrating.”

The half-finished bottle Rachel had brought with her from the table paused midway to her lips and a smile blossomed on her mouth. “You know I adore happy news. Clue me in. What are we celebrating?”

Shannon raised the beer in a mock toast. Initially she’d been hesitant about accepting Oliver’s offer. But now she felt confident of her ability to withstand temptation. “My new job.”

Rachel’s smile froze. Then she clinked her bottle against the one Shannon held and sputtered out her congratulations.

“Thanks. I’m superjazzed.” The position was all about Ollie, she reassured herself. She had no doubt she and the boy would get along splendidly. Shannon would not think about the way her heart hammered whenever Oliver was near.

“When did they call you?”

The quietly spoken question came out of nowhere. Shannon blinked and focused on her friend. “Who?”

“The person who contacted you about the Fortune Foundation job.” Rachel cleared her throat. “When did you get the good news?”

The bartender, a thirtysomething-year-old with a shaved head, set a plate of loaded nachos in front of them.

“I never thought they’d choose someone this soon,” Rachel continued before Shannon had a chance to respond. “But, hey, if it couldn’t be me, I’m happy it was you.”

“This isn’t the foundation job. They won’t let us know until the end of the month, remember?” Shannon picked up a chip dripping with cheese and nibbled. “I’m going to be a nanny to Oliver Fortune Hayes’s son. It’s short-term but the position pays extremely well.”

“Oh.” The tightness on Rachel’s face eased. “When do you start?”

“I move in Sunday night.” Shannon popped the nacho into her mouth. “I asked him for a few days to get my stuff together and my bags packed.”