thought his older brother was being a wienie. Despite the years between them, he felt he was the mature one, and Jonas the lagging runt. “You and Nancy were a hundred years ago. She’s been married with kids for the last ten, and you haven’t mentioned that old flame in five. Are you planning to sit here for the rest of your life reading newspapers on your iPad?”
Jonas nodded, his expression serene. “Yep.”
Sam sighed. “I’m going to bed. I have to be in court tomorrow.”
Jonas glanced up, removing his gaze from his stupid screen long enough to regard Sam with something like interest. “Anything about the ranch?”
“Bode’s lawyers want another continuance. At the rate they’re going, surely Bode’ll be in his grave before this lawsuit is over. Either that or I will.”
“You know,” Jonas said, his tone reflective, “I would have thought once Rafe caught Bode’s daughter and dragged her to the altar, the old coot would have seen that his granddaughters are going to get part of this joint, anyway.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “He’s pretty much disowned Julie, though.”
“He’s a fool.” Jonas shrugged and went back to his virtual newspaper.
Sam started to say that Bode wasn’t the only fool in Diablo, then decided he didn’t care if Jonas turned into a pile of salt. If his brother wanted to sit in front of that fireplace like a doddering old man, that was his problem, not Sam’s.
“Not me,” he muttered. “There’s got to be something more than a court case and Jonas in my world.”
“Did you say something?” his brother yelled after him.
“No!” Sam went on up the stairs and wondered if he could talk Seton into having dinner with him again tomorrow night.
Anything to keep him from ending up like the Odd Couple with his brother.
“DINNER TONIGHT?” Sam asked, poking his head into Seton’s office at five o’clock Monday afternoon.
She closed up her briefcase and shook her head. “It’s probably not a good idea, Sam.”
“I’m in the mood for Chinese,” he said. “Surely you can’t resist that?”
She looked at him, tempted in spite of herself. “I really must resist.” You and the Chinese food.
“Can’t is such a funny word,” Sam said. “It means you want to, but are making the conscious decision to decline your better judgment. You pick the restaurant. I’m easy.” He flung himself into one of the leather chairs facing her desk and shook his head. “Please say yes. It saves me from having to look at Jonas. I’ve had a long day in court, and trust me, I’d rather look at you than him.”
Seton shook her head. “Poor Jonas.”
“Poor Jonas nothing. He’s calcifying in front of the fireplace. It’s not a pretty sight.”
Seton wondered if it was possible—even remotely—that Jonas was hankering for Sabrina. “That doesn’t sound like the Jonas I remember.”
“Yeah, he’s a butthead.” Sam glanced around her office. “You need some pictures on the walls.”
“Decorating isn’t my strong suit.” Seton walked to her office door.
“Good to know. I nearly married you.”
She laughed. “No, you didn’t. I never came close to accepting your proposal. So forget about it.”
“All right.” Sam stood and joined her in the doorway. “Maybe we should try to fix Jonas and Sabrina up. Get them together somehow.”
Seton stared up at Sam. “I don’t think so. I did all the meddling I’m going to do when I dug around for information on you. I’ve given up on it.”
“You’re a P.I. Being nosy is your game.”
“But meddling isn’t.” She snapped off the lights and locked the door.
“He’s never going after her,” Sam said, and Seton glanced up at him, her heart suddenly lurching.
“No?”
Sam shook his head. “Nope. He’s too, I don’t know, mature or something. At least he thinks he is.”
“Oh.” She was conscious that Sam had taken her elbow while she wondered about Sabrina and Jonas. What if Jonas did go see her sister? What if—
She’d promised Sabrina to keep her secret. “My sister certainly won’t come back to Diablo.”
They walked into the local Chinese restaurant and Seton felt herself relaxing in the soothing atmosphere.
“What did Jonas do to her? I’ll pound him, I promise. He’s had it coming to him for a while.”
Seton started, not relaxed anymore. “Why would you think he’d done something to Sabrina?”
“If she won’t come back here, and he won’t go there, although he calls her often, then he’s done something. Trust me, I know Jonas. He’s a great heart surgeon, but that’s all he knows about matters concerning the heart. Want to go all-out on a pupu platter?”
“That actually sounds delicious.” Seton’s mind was spinning about Jonas and Sabrina. She eyed Sam as he studied the menu, thinking that it was a shame the two of them had such opposite life goals.
“I suppose we wouldn’t have to get married to satisfy my needs,” Sam said, and Seton said, “What needs?”
“Marital needs,” he said, not looking up from the menu. “My desire to have a wife, stability and peace and quiet.”
“You may be the only man who equates marriage with peace and quiet,” Seton observed, and sipped her sake.
“What if we got engaged,” Sam said thoughtfully, his gaze no longer on the menu but on her, which set her heart pounding as she realized he was working on a Callahan plot. “Just engaged, a really long-term engagement?”
“Your point?” she asked.
“I’d be as good as married, and you wouldn’t be afraid of getting tied down. Best of all, Sabrina would probably come home to our engagement party.”
Seton stared at him. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”
Sam blinked. “Which part?”
“All of it. Order the pupu platter. I can’t plot on an empty stomach.”
He asked for a pupu platter and veggie egg rolls and maybe some dim sum—she wasn’t paying attention to anything but Sam’s face as he ordered—and then looked at her earnestly. “This could work.”
“I’m not following,” she said cautiously.
“They
