“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