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.”
She wrinkled her nose. “And then?”
“We would have stayed married until you got sick of ranch life, or decided that the long hours working as a lawyer got on your nerves.” He shrugged. “But you didn’t say yes, so you’re off the hook, lady.”
“Good thing, that,” Seton said, thinking about Sabrina.
“I guess that means you don’t plan to change your mind.”
She thought he actually looked hopeful that she might. “No,” Seton said softly. “I won’t.”
He grinned at her. “Too bad. I would probably have shown you a good time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “After we were married? Why not before? You have such a strange way of going about things.”
“That’s what makes me a successful lawyer,” Sam said cheerfully. “I never do what the opposition expects.”
“Nice to know. Good night, Sam.” Seton closed the car door and pulled out of the parking lot, somewhat disappointed that he hadn’t tried to kiss her good-night. He hadn’t even looked as if he wanted to.
Maybe he really wasn’t attracted to her. Could his proposal about a marriage-in-name-only have been sincere?
“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered to herself. The Callahans were already adding another baby to the clan—they just didn’t know it.
Even if she’d wanted to accept Sam’s proposal, she couldn’t have done it while keeping Sabrina’s secret.
A small part of Seton regretted that she and Sam could never be anything at all to each other. That secret would always be between them.
“HOW’S THE MARRIAGE proposal going?” Jonas asked when Sam made it back to the ranch. Since it was just the two of them, they’d taken to living in the main house now, giving up the bunkhouse almost for good. Sam missed the days when Fiona and Burke had been living upstairs, taking care of the massive, seven-chimneyed house. He missed them in general. Now he just had Jonas to look at.
“Slowly,” Sam said, “but not as slowly as your proposal is going.”
His
