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“I was wondering the same thing,” Mr. Dean said, joining them. “But I trust your sister’s judgement entirely. Finnegan Dean,” he said, offering his hand. “You must be Harry?”
Harry shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dean.”
“Finn, please,” Mr. Dean said.
“Finn,” Harry repeated. “My sister is all-knowing when it comes to kids—plenty of experience. And she’s frugal. So, if she bought it, she must think you need it.”
She smiled. “You’re being nice.”
Harry grinned. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me calling you a tightwad in front of your boss.”
Finnegan Dean laughed. “I appreciate someone watching my overhead expenses for me.”
She glanced at Mr. Dean, more than a little stunned by just how beautiful he was when he laughed, then her brother. “Feeding three teenage boys is all about watching expenses. So, remember, there are plenty of casseroles in the freezer. You will not starve, no matter what the others might say.”
“I got it, I got it,” Harry said, holding up his hands.
She frowned at him. “We’ll see how long you go before you call me.”
“Why not write up a list, and I’ll have it delivered,” Mr. Dean offered.
“You don’t have to,” she assured him.
“It’s no trouble. Considering the inconvenience I’ve caused your family,” he continued.
She tried again, “No inconvenience—”
“I insist, Miss Talbot.” His tone was authoritative, ending her arguments and giving rise to a slight flare of irritation.
“Just call this number and tell them what you want when you need it. No questions asked.” He handed Harry a card.
Harry glanced at her, reluctant, before tucking the card into his pocket. “Thank you. Guess I should head out, make sure homework is getting done and the house isn’t in a state of emergency.” He winked at her, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t worry, Jessa. We can behave.”
She arched a brow. “When you want to.”
“Mr. Dean—Finn.” Harry nodded at Finn.
“Nice to meet you, Harry,” he said. “I’ll walk you out.”
She tried to dismiss her irritation. She had a hard time taking help from others. Most of her life had been about becoming self-sufficient. And while Finnegan Dean might think nothing of his offer, it was no small thing to her.
She unpacked the infant monitor and put in batteries, then cut off tags and set Oscar’s new clothing aside to wash. She’d prefer to wash everything before using them on
Oscar, to ensure the he didn’t have allergies.
She glanced at the baby, still sleeping, and smiled. So little and helpless. She could only imagine the life this boy would have, the experiences and adventures he’d live. Travel, the best education, and wealth.… And, right now, it was up to her to find the best person to love him—other than his father.
She sat on the bed, placing a hand on the baby boy. “Don’t you worry, Oscar. I’ll find you the best nanny. She’ll give you kisses and hugs, and twirl you around. She’ll sing to you and read with you and play pretend and let you make messes. You can count on me.”
Chapter Three
Finnegan stood outside her door, frozen. You can count on me. She meant it, he heard it in her voice.
That wasn’t something he’d heard a lot of growing up. If anything, his parents’ absence was the one thing he could count on. How many nannies had he and his brother gone through in their youth? Not that he and Philip had ever given them a reason to stick around. They were too eager to put tacks in their nannies’ chairs and hemorrhoid cream in place of their toothpaste. They were relentless. So much so, their parents had divided them up, sending them to boarding schools on opposite sides of the country. By the time they’d reached college, they were different people—never as close as they were. Then Philip met Annie, and Finn had been infected. Being close to anyone was no longer an option.
You can count on me.
Jessa’s humming reached him, soft and sweet. Just like she was. Exactly what he wanted for his son. Oscar deserved that—to have someone read and sing and laugh with him. To love him unconditionally. He didn’t know how to do that, how to let anyone close. The risk was too great.
