Читать книгу Cowboy Sam's Quadruplets - Tina Leonard - Страница 7

“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.”

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 brother waved a hand expansively as he sat in front of the fireplace, where he was reading the New York Times. “I’m not getting married. I tried it, remember? Got to the altar and everything went south. I’m not doing that again. It’s not as easy as it looks, bro.”

Sam 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 just need to be brought together,” Sam explained. “Then they could both move on with their lives, for better or worse.”

Seton had forgotten to ask how far along her sister was. She’d been too shocked to do so. She counted back how long it had been since Sabrina and she had left for D.C. It had been around four months.

Sabrina should definitely be showing.

“I don’t think she’d come back even to an engagement party,” Seton said. “Not that I’m considering a fake engagement to you, anyway.”

“You should,” Sam said. “There would be many pluses to being my fiancée.”

“I can’t think of a single one.” She dragged a crispy noodle through some sauce and munched it happily. “Besides, if Sabrina wouldn’t come back to Diablo, we’d be engaged for nothing. Then we’d have to break it, which would be a mess, and—”

“What if I told you,” Sam said slowly, thoughtfully, quietly, in a tone she’d never heard from him before, “that I wasn’t entirely opposed to having a baby?”

Seton blinked, nearly choking on her sake, which made her eyes water. She coughed and shook her head. “You’re so manipulative it’s scary. Or impressive. I can’t decide.”

“I’m serious,” Sam said. “I could tell as soon as I proposed that a baby was going to be your sticking point. As you said, both parties have to get something in an agreement. I’d get a wife and you’d get a baby. Stick that coin in your baby meter and see if it registers.”

She gave him a stern look and dabbed at her eyes with the white dinner napkin. “Sam, parenthood shouldn’t be negotiated. Babies aren’t bargaining chips.”

“No, they’re more like time bombs. Trust me, there’s several of them ticking away around the ranch, and something’s always going off.” He looked pretty cheerful about his observation. “One more would just add to the energy.”

He was already having one more Callahan. Seton shook her head. Their pupu platter arrived, along with more goodies Sam had ordered, and Seton dug in, hoping he would eat, too, and forget all about his newest idea. “This is delicious.”

“I know. This restaurant is great. They’ll deliver out to the ranch, too, which makes all of us very happy.” Sam frowned. “Jonas has quit cooking, and it’s really a pain.”

“Can’t you warm up a burger for yourself? Open a bag of Bertolli?” Seton looked at him curiously as she bit into an egg roll and moaned with joy. “I’ve never had egg rolls as good as they serve here. I literally craved them when I was in D.C.”

“Another reason you should never have left.” Sam waved his at her before dipping it in mustard and plum sauces. “When your aunt told me you were returning, I knew you belonged in Diablo. ‘That’s my girl,’ I told your aunt, and later, I realized that’s exactly what I meant.”

Seton put down her egg roll. “What, exactly, did you realize you meant?”

“That you were my girl. Or you should be. How many times do I have to tell you I need a wife?” Sam gazed at her. “Your aunt warned me that you might be a little stubborn. I told her I could handle it.” He started on the dim sum with gusto.

“Maybe I don’t want to be your girl,” Seton said with some heat. “You know, in some places, in a lot of places, this domineering attitude of yours could be construed as chauvinism.”

“Nope. Desire.” Sam closed his eyes as he licked his fingers. “This is so good I could eat it for breakfast.”

Seton sighed and joined him in eating the dim sum. “Sam, you were quite certain you didn’t want children.”

“But I’ve had time to reconsider my position,” he said, “and you’d be cute pregnant. You’re tall, but not too tall, and have nice curves, so you’ll be a stunner. Sabrina’s short and has that bright red hair, so she’d probably look like a plump, cute—”

“Ugh,” Seton said, “don’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Sam looked at her. “I just meant that you’d be very beautiful carrying a baby, Seton. And I’m willing to make that happen.”

“How?” she asked, with some acerbity. “Didn’t you say that our fakey thing would be in name only?”

“I’m flexible.” Sam grinned at her, and Seton’s heart jumped.

“Flexible.”

“Sure. See how hard I’m trying to make this agreement work?”

“I wasn’t aware we were negotiating.”

“Aren’t we?” Sam poured some more sake into her cup.

“I don’t think so.” Seton stared at him, wondering what it was he really wanted. Corinne and Sabrina had both said that there was more to Sam’s offer than it seemed. Seton wondered if they were right.

“We have to get those two back together somehow,” Sam said. “All parties benefit.”

“I thought you weren’t attracted to me.”

Surprise crossed Sam’s face. “Did I say that?”

“You said something like it.”

Sam laughed out loud. “Give me a chance, angel face.”

“This is so crazy,” Seton said under her breath. “You’re absolutely nutty.”

“Probably,” Sam said cheerfully. “But I can tell you like me, even if you don’t know why.”

Her lips twisted. “My, what a big ego you have, wolfie.”

“Needs a good woman to keep it in check.” Sam didn’t seem too bothered by that. “Think of how much fun we could have trying to start a baby. Practice makes perfect, I hear.”

She stared at him. “I doubt it.”

“Well, we’d know in nine months,” Sam said. “We probably shouldn’t waste any time finding out.”

Seton eased back, so full that she felt stuffed, and so annoyed with Sam she didn’t know what to think.

“I understand that you need a guarantee,” he continued. “I wouldn’t buy a horse without checking it out thoroughly, either. We could give it a few months, see if the stork has room in his calendar for us, and then announce our engagement. Or marriage, whichever you’re in the mood for at that time. Then Sabrina would come home for your baby shower—”

Seton narrowed her eyes. “You seem very determined to get my sister back to Diablo. What’s with that?”

“My brother’s suffering,” Sam said. “You’d pity him if you saw him. He’s practically wasting away.”

“Not over Sabrina.” Seton wondered exactly what had transpired between Sabrina and Jonas that she hadn’t noticed. A pregnancy, for one thing.

But how much else? Was her sister in love?

Maybe Seton owed it to her future niece or nephew to find out.

“Think it over,” Sam said. “Very little downside for you. If you were a gambling woman—”

“I’m not,” she snapped. “I see the odds as being very long that any of this works out.”

“Tell you what.” He leaned forward, his voice soft enough for only her to hear. “If we find ourselves with a baby, I’ll sign over my portion of the ranch to the child.”

Seton blinked. “Why?”

“It’d be theirs in due time, anyway,” Sam said, eternally optimistic, “and you’d have a better place for your office than that dingy building you’re in now.”

“I like my office,” Seton said. “It’s my own private space.”

“You’d like the ranch better,” Sam told her. “Office and nursery in one.”

She wasn’t going to succumb to the lure he presented. For Sabrina, maybe. But it was a long shot. Seton didn’t know if her sister even liked Jonas.

She’d liked him well enough to make love with him.

“This is terrible,” Seton groaned. “You have no idea the dilemma I’m in.”

“It’s hard pushing the upper end of your ovarian best-by date,” Sam said sympathetically.

“I’m twenty-six, thank you very much,” she retorted. “And that’s not what I meant, anyway. I can’t even imagine myself in bed with you, Sam.”

He grinned. “That’s funny, because I can see myself in bed with you—and liking it. A lot.”