serious. You wanted Seton to think you’re an idiot, which you are, but you wanted her good and convinced. So she’d turn down your proposal. And then you’d be off the hook with the only woman you’ve had eyes for in two years!” Jonas crowed. “You big chicken!”
Sam scratched his neck, leaned back against the picnic table and looked up at the evening sky. “It’s a beautiful March night. You shouldn’t keep howling at the moon, Jonas. Only crazy people do that.”
His brother snorted. “I’m not crazy. You are.”
“Yeah, well.” Sam emptied his beer and tossed the bottle in the trash before grabbing another one out of the cooler. “What will you do when it’s your turn to propose to a woman? At least I did it. You, I notice, make calls to a Washington, D.C., number and somehow never get off the mark.”
“I’m just keeping up with Sabrina.” Jonas slapped a burger down in front of Sam. “I told Corinne I’d check on her niece from time to time.”
“You didn’t check on her sister, Seton.”
“Well,” Jonas said, “I was under the misapprehension that you also knew how to dial a phone, bro.”
Sam bit into the burger, noting that it was done, as always, to perfection. “I don’t think we need to hire a cook, Jonas. You cook acceptably. I’m not complaining.” He ladled on some salsa and some avocado and kept eating, happy to needle his brother between bites.
“Back to Seton,” Jonas said, “you might want to sweeten your offer. No woman consents to a hands-off marriage, so you’re going to have to force yourself to be a little romantic, as much as it hurts you. Or she’s going to think you’re plain weird. Which you are, but right now, she’s wondering if you’re weird or just a hard-hearted lawyer. Neither scenario is good for your chances.”
Sam licked his fingers. “Seton’s independent enough to appreciate the clinical, no-strings-attached approach. And it doesn’t matter, because either way, I’d be off the hook with the marriage thing. No harm, no foul, is what I say. We’re not in love, no hearts will be broken, and Seton will get a nice payday. By the looks of her office, she could use a financial lotto.”
“Sure,” Jonas said, “let me know how it works out, bro. And I’ll keep your secret, only because it’s so crazy no one would believe me if I told them what you’ve done.” He sat down to eat his own burger, after shooting his brother one last incredulous glance.
“I expect Seton will give me her answer very soon. And then you’ll be the last one left, Jonas. The last bachelor at Rancho Diablo.”
Sam almost felt sorry for his eldest brother. Jonas wasn’t getting any younger—or smarter.
At least I know what I’m doing.
He had a plan, and he was sticking to it.
Chapter Two
A week later, Sam decided Seton was the slowest woman ever when it came to accepting a marriage proposal. So he invited himself into her office and gave her his most winning grin, the one he reserved for sticky judges.
She glared at him. “No.”
Her reluctance surprised him. “Did you even consider it?”
Seton shook her head. Today her blond hair was twisted up on her head in a businesslike braid thing, and while he thought it looked good on her, he liked her hair best loose and straight. She wore a blue suit and a continual frown, so he relaxed in the chair and pondered his next angle.
“I didn’t consider your proposal,” Seton said. “I figured you’d be over it once the crazy wore off.”
“I never have crazy moments.” Sam crossed a boot over his knee and pressed his fingertips together. “My offer was based entirely on careful planning and sound logic. You need me and I need you.”
Her light brown brows winged together. “How do I need you?”
“Don’t you want to get married?” Sam couldn’t help doubting her happy-spinster stance.
“I’ve been married.” Seton got up and shoved some manila folders into a nearby filing cabinet. He admired her long legs and delicate feet, tucked into navy blue pumps, and the curve of her fanny under the knee-length skirt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his attention completely shot as he tore his gaze from Seton’s delectable rear view. “Did you say you’d been married?”
“Mmm.” She sat back down and stared at him, her eyes clear and matter-of-fact. “It’s not an experience I’m pining to repeat, to be honest.” She picked up a lone file folder on her desk, consulted it for a moment, then tapped for a few moments on the keys of her open laptop. “But after your business offer—”
“Proposal.”
She looked at him again. “One can’t really call that a proposal, Sam. It was all about business. Your business. The only thing you forgot was something for the other party. Negotiations tend to be short-lived when one party wants something and the other wants nothing.”
“I mentioned there would be financial compensation, Seton,” Sam said.
“Which sounds unethical.”
“Oh,” he said. “I see where you’re coming from.”
“I doubt it.” Her tone was cool as she returned her gaze to the computer screen. “But in the spirit of friendship, and I suppose we’ll have to have some kind of friendship since we’re both living in Diablo, I did a little searching for you.”
“I don’t need you to search out a wife for me,” Sam said, feeling crusty. “I’m not going to make my offer to just any woman. Thanks.”
“About your parents,” Seton said, shooting him a glare. “Forget about the marriage bit—that horse isn’t going to run. Let’s focus on the real problem you have, which is that you said you didn’t know who you are.”
He raised a hand. “I’m not in a hurry to find out.”
“It seemed like that was your big hang-up when you were in here the other day. Your real reason for wanting a wife. An anchor, if you will.”
Sam shrugged. “Wrong theory, Miss Marple. Anyway, you’re going out of order. I came here to talk about marriage. Not myself.”
“I’m not accepting your proposal.”
Well, wasn’t she just the most stubborn little thing? It was almost cute. There was something between them, even if she didn’t care to notice it. Sam supposed a woman didn’t decide to become a detective without some good ol’ ornery in her makeup. Seton was so no-nonsense she probably scared most men.
Sam liked a challenge, and the more pretzel-like the chase, the better. He figured he’d be a pretty poor lawyer if he didn’t crave a good knuckle-cracking challenge. He leaned his chin on his fingertips and tried to think where he was going wrong here. It was really important that Seton say yes. Marriage would solve everything
