said, not convinced. “Thanks for the chat, sis.”
“No problem. Go get him, is my advice.”
“I don’t want—” Seton began, but Sabrina had already hung up. “I don’t want him,” she murmured, walking to her car, not noticing the figure leaning against the door.
“Working late?” Sam asked, and Seton gasped.
“Sam!” She tossed her cell into her briefcase, feeling a little guilty about talking about him. She hoped he hadn’t heard anything she’d said. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting on you. How about we discuss things over a drink at Banger’s?”
Seton looked at Sam, thinking about her sister’s pregnancy. She couldn’t have a drink with Sam. If she did, she might start talking and unload Sabrina’s secret. It weighed so heavily on her now. “I don’t think so.”
“C’mon,” Sam said, “you look like you could use a chardonnay.”
“I could,” Seton said, “but I think Aunt Corinne is waiting on me with tea and cookies.”
“Nah. She’s playing bingo. I just saw her at the Books’n’Bingo with the blue-haired crowd. That means,” Sam said, with his trademark Callahan smile, “that I’m all yours for the evening, doll.”
Chapter Three
“I owe you an apology for my behavior earlier,” Sam said. Seton rattled him more easily than anyone he could remember, and that included judges and fellow lawyers.
“No need to apologize. I shouldn’t have looked for your family records.”
“You were trying to help. I appreciate that. Like you said, anyone could have found the same information,” Sam stated, ignoring her reluctance to accompany him by placing a hand under her elbow and guiding her toward Banger’s. “However, I need a wife more than a P.I. now.”
Seton pulled her arm away from his grasp and gave him a stern look. “I absolutely refuse to discuss weddings, marriage or proposals of any kind.”
“Suit yourself, doll,” Sam said as he led her into Banger’s. “Let me take that suitcase from you. It looks so heavy for such a delicate lady.”
She snatched her briefcase away. “Don’t patronize me, you ape. Or you’ll be sipping chardonnay with someone else tonight.”
He grinned. “I like a woman with spirit. I’m sure that’s obvious.”
“Well, I don’t like you,” she returned as she slid into a booth. “So don’t push your luck.”
Sam grinned and told himself that if he took things real slow with Seton, maybe, just maybe, he’d end up with her in his bed eventually. Of course, that would throw off the marriage-in-name-only angle. He studied her more carefully, and wondered if marriage-in-bed-only was more his game, anyway.
SETON FELT AS IF a wolf was watching her all night long. Okay, maybe she and Sam had been at Banger’s for only two hours, but she felt as if he was waiting to pounce on her. He watched her every move. She drank her wine faster, and didn’t decline when he ordered taquitos and Southwestern wraps. And more wine.
Somewhere along the way, she found herself having fun. “I’ve had enough,” Seton finally said, waving away the waiter with the liberal hand at pouring. “No more for me or I’m going to sprout grapevines.”
“The night’s still young.”
Young enough to get in trouble. “I’d better be going, Sam.” But she didn’t move. It was cozy in Banger’s, and the booth they’d been given was private and lit by candles. Seton told herself to relax; Sam wasn’t going to spring on her. And the fact that her sister was pregnant by his brother shouldn’t make her uneasy.
Of course, it did. She was worried for Sabrina, and Jonas, and the baby. The situation gnawed at her. Seton sipped at her wine, reminding herself that her sister’s life was her own.
“Jonas is driving me nuts,” Sam said. “He spends all his time hanging around the ranch. He won’t go out. He’s about as much fun as wet socks. I don’t know what his problem is.”
Seton shook her head. “Ask him.”
“He grunts by way of pleasantries these days.” Sam gazed at her. “How’s Sabrina, anyway?”
“Enjoying what she’s doing, I think.” Seton stared at Sam’s mouth and fleetingly wished they were kissing and not talking as if they were just friends.
He drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t suppose she’ll be coming back to Diablo anytime soon.”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s too bad. A little female companionship might be good for Jonas.”
Sam seemed genuinely worried about his brother. Seton had nothing to say that would relieve either of them, so she shrugged. “Thank you for a lovely meal, but I—”
He put a hand over hers as she clutched her purse. “Don’t go just yet.”
“Sam.” The temptation was too strong. His warm fingers on hers sent waves of longing through her. She didn’t want to acknowledge any feelings she might have for him at this point. Those feelings she’d had before—the questions that had brought her back to Diablo—simply couldn’t exist any longer. Even if everything else could be waved away with a magic wand—such as his reluctance to have children and her strong wish for a baby—Seton couldn’t date Sam in good conscience, knowing that Sabrina was pregnant with Jonas’s child. “I really have to go.”
She stood, surprised when Sam pressed her hand to his lips.
“Thank you for spending this evening with me,” he said, his tone agreeable and a little wistful. “I really didn’t want to go back to the ranch to look at Jonas’s sour puss another night.” Sam laid money on the table and put his hand against the curve of her back to guide her from the restaurant.
As they walked out, he waved to people he knew, and Seton was uncomfortably aware of the interested glances following them, especially from women. She wished Sam didn’t have his palm against her back; it felt so possessive. Yet wasn’t this why she’d returned to Diablo? To see if there could be anything between them?
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
Sam and Seton headed that way, crisp March breezes making them hurry faster than she would have liked. The thought made her feel a little guilty. She liked spending time with Sam, more than she should.
Sam waited while she unlocked her car. “Good night,” he said. “Thanks again for having dinner with me.”
Seton hesitated. “Sam, I really am sorry about digging into your family history.”
He looked at her. “I think you were meant to do it,” he said. “Why else would I decide I needed Nancy Drew in my life?”
Seton gazed back at him. “You mean all that proposal stuff was a ruse to get me checking into your family past?”
“No,” Sam said, “the offer’s still on the table. What I meant was that there are a ton of other single ladies around. I had to pick the one with a nose for solving mysteries. Maybe it was my subconscious directing me.”
Seton let herself sink into the driver’s seat. “Glad you weren’t attracted to me or anything.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, “physical attraction usually has a short shelf life.”
“What would you have done if I’d said yes?” she asked, curious in spite of herself. “Given that you’re not attracted to me for anything except my curiosity.”
“Well,” Sam said, “first, I would have married you.”