Fortune's Little Heartbreaker Page 8
Shannon could only wonder why she found his words more disappointing than reassuring.
* * *
When Oliver arrived home later, it was after two. By then Ollie was cranky and out of sorts. After changing his nappy, Oliver sat the boy down on the rug in the living room with his bricks, hoping a little quiet play would relax him.
But Ollie refused to be distracted or comforted. He knocked down the stack that Oliver had arranged, then picked up one and flung it across the room. When Oliver tried to put him down for a nap, he stood at the edge of the playpen and cried, rocking back and forth like a monkey in a cage as tears slipped down his chubby cheeks.
Though Oliver had some catching up to do on market indices, he lifted his son up and settled into the rocker with him. Every time Ollie pulled back, Oliver would bring him back against him. Finally the boy quit struggling, his hands resting on his shoulders as Oliver rocked him. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Oliver wondered if Diane had ever rocked Ollie. Or, for that matter, had Mrs. Crowder, his London nanny? This was a first for him, but he’d been desperate. As he felt his son relax against him, Oliver realized rocking was really quite nice. A connection. Between him and Ollie.
A connection that only served to remind him how much of Ollie’s life he’d missed.
Not insisting on regular visitation had been a mistake. Just as Shannon not pressing charges against her boss had been a mistake. In his estimation the man shouldn’t be able to harass an employee—hell, assault an employee—and get away with it.
Not only get away with it, but make her feel as if the whole thing was somehow her fault. That’s why he hadn’t added to her guilt by suggesting she could have handled the situation differently. She’d made the best decision based on where she was at the time.
Oliver closed his eyes, realizing he was more tired than he thought. Adjusting to a different time zone while having total care of a small boy had proved more difficult than he’d initially envisioned.
His respect for mothers and nannies had gone up a thousandfold...
Oliver awoke to a small hand pressed against his face. When his lids eased open, he found himself staring directly into Ollie’s bright eyes.
“Up,” Ollie ordered. “Get up.”
The child could say “get up” but couldn’t manage “Daddy”?
By the foul smell permeating the air, Oliver knew Ollie wouldn’t simply need a nappy change. He’d probably need a bath, as well. His prediction proved correct.
It wasn’t until Ollie was changed, bathed and fed that it struck Oliver that the child’s schedule was going to be disrupted once again. Tonight was Amelia and Quinn’s baby shower. He wasn’t certain what to expect, but he assumed a gift was de rigueur. Thankfully, Oliver hadn’t had a chance to give them the limited-edition Highgrove baby hamper he’d picked up at Harrods department store before he left London.
Though he wasn’t sure if Amelia was still into organic supplies or not, the hamper contained not only a fully jointed antique mohair Highgrove bear, but an assortment of organic baby products created with a blend of oils to be calm and soothing to a baby’s skin. The salesclerk had assured him the baby hamper was a popular gift for new mothers.
Diane had been a new mother once. Had she been as thrilled by Ollie as Amelia was by Clementine? Perhaps.
Oliver raked a hand through his hair. Their marriage had already been in trouble when Ollie was born. He’d dealt with the increased tension and Diane’s unhappiness in the only way he knew how, by working even harder and giving her expensive trinkets. It hadn’t been enough. Oliver expelled a heavy push of air, feeling the full weight of his failure.
He placed Ollie in the Pack ’n Play and watched his son pick up a toy truck with a squeal of delight.
He’d made so many mistakes...
Banishing the unproductive thoughts and emotions, Oliver motioned Barnaby off the sofa and headed for the shower. He’d never been to a couple’s baby party. Gabi and Jude were hosting the event, held at his aunt Jeanne Marie’s spacious ranch home.
By the time Oliver arrived, cars and trucks lined both sides of the graveled drive. He parked at the end of the long line. A truck immediately pulled in behind him.
He paid little attention, his focus on releasing Ollie from his car seat. They were late and Oliver prided himself on being punctual. However, when he’d let Barnaby outside, right before they were to leave home, the dog had run off. Oliver had wasted precious minutes looking for the animal, who’d received a stern lecture once he returned.
“We’re going to have to quit meeting like this.”
He turned and there was Shannon, wearing a shirt and skirt the color of mint, her hair pulled back in a casual twist.
“You look amazing,” he said.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Her gaze settled momentarily on his gray trousers and open-necked white shirt. “Let me hold your gift while you fumble with the car seat.”
“Fumble is right.” Oliver gave a laugh. “He’s strapped in tighter than most astronauts.”
Shannon stood close while he unbuckled Ollie. The light vanilla scent of her perfume was pleasing. “I should have realized you’d be here, what with Amelia being your sister.”
“A sister who is a bugger about punctuality.”
“We’re not that—” Shannon glanced at her watch. “Eek. You’re right. We are late. We need to hoof it.”
She started down the lane toward the house at a surprisingly fast clip, the gifts hugged to her chest.
Oliver scooped up Ollie and headed after her.
They reached the house at the same time and climbed the steps to the porch in unison. Oliver rang the bell.
It was only seconds before the door opened and Jude waved them inside.
The gifts were lifted from Shannon’s hands and Gabi directed Oliver to a temporary playroom set up at the back of the house. Several children were already there, along with two teenage child-care workers.
To Oliver’s surprise, Ollie screeched in excitement and hurried over to pick up a plastic bat. Oliver only shook his head. His son’s mercurial moods were a constant mystery. He told the teenage babysitter to come and get him if Ollie got scared.
As he didn’t want to simply disappear—though the thought was tempting—Oliver walked over to Ollie and told him he was leaving and would be back soon. Ollie blinked, opening and closing his hand in the gesture Lilian had taught him. “Bye-bye.”
Before leaving the room, Oliver reiterated to the young woman monitoring the door not to hesitate to retrieve him if Ollie turned fussy. He saw by the look on her face she’d written him off as just another overprotective parent. Especially considering Ollie was now happily banging the plastic bat like a drum on the floor.
His duty completed, Oliver hurried from the room and found Shannon waiting with two flutes of champagne.
She shoved one into his hand. “For you.”
“Thank you.” He took a sip and found the vintage very much to his taste. As they strolled down the hall, Oliver began to relax. “This evening may not be so bad after all.”
“I’ll ask how you feel after the games.”
“Games?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shannon said as they headed into the large double parlor where the guests were congregated. “You can’t have a baby shower without games.”
Oliver couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of games she meant.
“There’s the last couple,” Gabi called out when he and Shannon entered the parlor. “We can get started now.”
For a second, Oliver looked around to see whom she meant until he realized she was talking about him and Shannon. He started to protest until he saw Shannon’s friend Rachel had been paired with Quinn’s elderly aunt.
Not that he minded being paired with Shannon for
whatever games they would play; he simply didn’t want to put her in an awkward position of everyone thinking they were a couple.
“What’s the game, Gabi?” Shannon smiled easily, looking relaxed among this group of friends.
Even though Amelia was his sister and he was family, Oliver was clearly the outsider today. Though he was proficient at social conversation, he was rather relieved Gabi appeared ready to launch into the scheduled activities.
The first game was a baby word scramble. Each “team” was given twenty words where the letters had been scrambled. Oliver was, by nature, a competitive person. He quickly discovered Shannon shared his must-win attitude.
Sitting beside each other on an overstuffed sofa, they breezed through the first nineteen words. Then they reached number twenty.
“BELOTT.” Shannon gazed down at the word. Her brows pulled together.
Oliver knew he should be studying the letters. But the simple task of focusing had become increasingly difficult with each word. He couldn’t take his eyes off the side of Shannon’s face, off the graceful arch of her neck, off the woman who took his breath away.
Her choice of attire for the evening only made it more difficult for him to concentrate. The shirt she wore was a thin fabric. If Oliver looked hard enough, he could practically see right through it to the smooth expanse of creamy skin and the lacy...
His mouth went dry.
“We’ve got eighteen,” he heard Quinn’s aunt announce to the room. “Two more and we win.”
“One left,” Amber said to Jensen.
Shannon leaned closer, as if she thought practically having her nose on the paper would unscramble the word.
All the closeness actually did was further scramble his brain until he couldn’t think of anything but how good she smelled and wonder how good she’d taste.
“Twenty,” Christopher called in triumph and high-fived Kinsley, then kissed her thoroughly to cheers and applause.
“The last one was the easiest,” Kinsley said when she came up for air.
Oliver exchanged a glance with Shannon. She lifted her shoulders in a wordless gesture.
“What was it?” Oliver whispered.
“I have no idea,” she said, her tone low and for his ears only. “But I’ll find out.”
“I’ll pick up everyone’s papers.” Shannon jumped to her feet, collecting the paper and pencils.
She returned to Oliver’s side seconds later. “You’ll never guess.”
He leaned close. “Tell me.”
“Bottle.”
He groaned. “How did we miss that one?”
“The question is how could we decipher diaper genie and fall apart on bottle.” She laughed good-naturedly. “I guess you can’t win ’em all.”
* * *
As the evening progressed, Shannon discovered Oliver always played to win, whether it was “pin the diaper on the baby” or making a “baby” out of Play-Doh.
But all the Fortunes were competitive. It wasn’t until they announced who’d guessed closest to the number of candies in the three-foot-high baby bottle that Oliver claimed his first victory.
“We did it, Shannon.” His wide grin made him look years younger.
Actually, he’d done it. She’d wanted to go lower, but he’d convinced her to put the higher number on the guess.
By the time they got to cake and gifts, Shannon had almost forgotten this was a baby shower, an event she normally avoided like the plague. Mainly because it always reminded her she was still alone with no one special in her life.
Oliver stood across the room visiting with his sister when the babysitter appeared in the doorway holding Ollie’s hand. The boy’s face was tear-streaked. Drops of moisture glistened on his dark lashes.
“He wants his mom and dad,” the girl announced to no one in particular.
“I’ll take him.” Shannon held out her arms and Ollie lunged toward her. She hefted him up and settled him on her hip. “Hey, bud, what’s got you so upset?”
Ollie’s only answer was to press his face into her neck.
“Looks like he’s already halfway in love with you.”
Shannon’s heart gave a leap but her expression was nonchalant as she turned toward Rachel. “To whom are you referring?”
“Little Ollie. The kid has you in a death grip.” Rachel leaned around Shannon and smiled at the boy. “Hi, Ollie. Remember me?”
Ollie burrowed deeper against Shannon.
“I guess I can’t impress all the men.” Rachel straightened and gave a little laugh. “By the way, it’s totally not fair I ended up with Quinn’s auntie and you got Oliver.”
Shannon smiled benignly. “You’ve always told me life isn’t fair.”
Rachel thought for a second then grinned. “You’re right. I’m going to snag one of the leftover baby bottles. Want one?”
Shannon shook her head. The game where the goal was to finish a baby bottle filled with beer had been incredibly frustrating. Who knew bottles emptied so slowly? “No thanks. I’ve got my hands full right now.”
“Later, gator.” Rachel gave Ollie a cheeky grin then strolled off.
“Gator.” Ollie lifted his head. “Gator.”
“That’s good, Ollie.” Shannon thought for a second. “Can you say...Shannon?”
He stared at her. For a second his oh-so-serious expression reminded her of Oliver. Then he smiled and her heart melted. “Mama.”
Shannon chuckled. “Sha-non.”
“Mama,” he repeated, flinging his arms around her neck.
Though it made absolutely no sense, tears stung the backs of her eyes and she hugged Ollie extra tight. He was so young to be without a mother.
“Amelia is ready to cut the cake.” Oliver paused, appearing to notice Ollie for the first time. “What happened?”
“He wanted his daddy.” Shannon continued to rub the child’s back. “You were busy so we’ve been bonding. And he’s fine now. Aren’t you, bud?”
She tickled his ribs and the toddler giggled.
Oliver smiled. “He’s pretty heavy. I can take him.”
“He’s fine.” Shannon cuddled Ollie. “Amelia and Quinn sure received a lot of nice gifts for Clementine.”
“They did,” Oliver agreed, rocking back on the heels of his Ferragamo shoes.
She’d enjoyed watching Oliver mingle with his family in such a relaxed atmosphere. This was why he was in Horseback Hollow. To get reacquainted. To spend time with his sister and his new niece.
“I can tend to Ollie while you socialize.” If she could take some of the pressure off him by watching Ollie tonight, she was happy to do it.
“I’m content where I am at the moment,” he told her. “Except, I fancy a cake. And some ice cream. Shall I get some for both of us?”
“A man who knows the way to my heart,” she teased.
His slow smile had said heart doing flip-flops.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Oliver shot her a wink and everything inside her went gooey. “Be right back.”
Shannon watched him cross the room to the refreshment table and realized in only a few short days, Oliver Fortune Hayes’s happiness had become important to her.
The question was...why?
The reason, she decided, when he reappeared with a slice of strawberry cake in one hand and chocolate in the other, was one best pondered on a full stomach.
Chapter Eight
Spending his Sunday evening grocery shopping at the Superette was not the way Oliver envisioned ending his weekend. Especially after a baby shower had disrupted his normal activities last night.
Oh, whom was he kidding? Nothing had been normal since the day he arrived in Horseback Hollow. But he’d been hopeful that had been about to change. He�
��d planned on spending the evening preparing for his first full day of work since arriving in Texas. Then Shannon had brought up the serious lack of food in the house.
“What do you think about an asparagus and goat cheese frittata for dinner?” Shannon stopped in front of the dairy case. “I have a great recipe.”
“If you’re certain it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble at all.” Shannon flashed him a smile. “I love to cook.”
She placed a carton of eggs in the shopping trolley, an odd-looking contraption that resembled a red race car. Though Ollie was strapped in, the boy didn’t seem to mind. He happily turned the steering wheel in front of him.
As they went up and down the aisles picking out fruits and vegetables, bread and crackers, Oliver realized he and Diane had never gone to the grocery shop together. He wasn’t certain she’d ever gone herself. She may have simply had one of the help handle the mundane task. Perhaps she’d called in the order.
Though Oliver wouldn’t exactly call the excursion fun, it wasn’t altogether tedious. In almost every aisle they’d run across one of his relatives or a friend of Shannon’s. They’d talk for several minutes before continuing down the aisle. Then they’d run into someone else and another conversation would ensue.
The “quick” trip to the store was turning into quite an affair. Still, by the number of groceries in the basket, Shannon had been correct in her assessment. They had been seriously short on rations.
The truth was, he’d spent so much time making sure her room was ready that he’d given little thought to the food situation.
“Does Ollie like these organic food purees?”
Oliver stared at the two pouches she held up, one marked Sweet Potato and the other Blueberry. Had Ollie ever had these? Did he like them? Shannon might as well have asked him to name the ingredients in “blue-ribbon banana bread.” “No clue.”
Shannon tossed them into the buggy. “I have a friend in Lubbock with a little girl about Ollie’s age. Her daughter loves them, so we’ll take a chance. They’re really good for a growing child.”
He bowed to her wisdom. As the oldest of five and with friends who had children, she had the experience and knowledge he needed. Yet, it seemed he should know what food his son preferred.