Page 109 of A Whim and a Prayer

He’d never been the “high society” type even though his parents lived in a wealthier neighborhood on the same street as the Dennehys. No, his roots were orphan humble, and he was, too, so when he first picked her up on Beacon Hill, he made a mental note that it would be the very last time.

But then their first had been really good and the second and third too, so Beck made up his mind that if Winnie only wanted to be friends, Cari Lee could help him to get back to that point because she was a great gal.

She knew he wasn’t comfortable with her family’s elite status, so she downplayed it as much as she could, winning him over with her sensitivity and understanding about his situation with Winnie.

He laid his head back on Mulvaney’s chair and closed his eyes, thinking about their New Year’s Eve kiss. It had been nice and sweet, which is exactly what he wanted. The physical attraction was a little strong to suit—obviously awakened by his kisses with Winnie—so he’d set Cari Lee straight when it had gotten too heated early on. Of a more spiritual nature, he’d never dated or allowed himself to indulge in physical intimacies before, the thought of a vocation as a priest always in the back of his mind.

He issued a grunt as he kneaded the bridge of his nose. Well, it’s not in the back of my mind anymore, he thought with a heavy release of air, concerned that his relationship with Cari Lee was moving too fast. When he’d taken her home at three in the morning, things had gotten a little too heated with a necking session that lasted quite a while.

Beck blamed it on the flute of champagne Cari Lee and he had received before midnight and the endless toasts proposed by the brass. He didn’t make a practice of drinking, so other than a beer or two overseas, he’d steered clear of the stuff. But not last night. One glass and his iron-clad self-control had been considerably relaxed, and Beck didn’t like that one bit.

His lashes slowly lifted, as sluggish as he, so he wasn’t sure what kind of shape he’d be in for the date this evening with Cari Lee, a date he wished he could cancel because he was too short on sleep as it was. She’d begged him before Christmas to attend her family’s annual family dinner dance at the Copley-Plaza, the fanciest hotel in Boston, and unfortunately, he’d agreed. With the caveat that if Winnie still only wanted to be friends, he would go.

Then when Mrs. D had confirmed that’s the way it would be, he knew he was in trouble because now he was committed. Which meant not only did he miss Winnie’s New Year’s Eve party, but now her family’s New Year’s Day gathering too. A silent groan rose in his throat as his eyelids shuttered closed. Sure, he liked Cari Lee a lot, but meeting her family at this stage of the game was not something he’d planned for. Not to mention having to rent a tux.

“Well, well … a wee bit tuckered out after hobnobbing with the higher-ups, are we?”

The groan escaped when Beck looked up to see his least favorite coworker, hip cocked against the open door that he completely filled with his girth. “It was a New Year’s Eve party, Wilson. Everyone’s tuckered out after one of those.”

Wilson strolled in like he owned the place and plopped down in a chair with a waggle of brows. “I’ll tell you what, Campbell—you’re not long for the dock after a party like that, not to mention dating a high-society dame like Barton.”

Beck stifled a curt response. “Cari Lee’s not a ‘high-society dame,’ Wilson—she’s a very nice girl whose family just happens to be well-to-do.”

“Either way, I gotta give it to you—you sure have a way with the rich ones. First you’re best friends with the editor’s daughter and now you’re dating a board member’s niece. Wish that was my problem.”

Beck sat up and grabbed the next task list Mulvaney had left for him. “I wish it was too, pal, so I could go home and get some sleep while you attended this fancy shindig I have tonight.”

“Holy Joe, Beck,” Wilson said as he slowly lumbered to his feet, his belly hanging over a belt you couldn’t even see. “You are one lucky stiff, buddy boy. It’s like you won the honey sweepstakes. But you don’t even know how great you’ve got it with two good-lookin’ dolls hanging all over you.” He plodded to the door with a backhanded wave. “Well, break’s over.”

Beck shook his head, a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips.

“Two good-lookin’ dolls hanging all over you.”

Thoughts of Cari Lee in the car last night suddenly collided with memories of Winnie when she was shunning his romantic interest, and his smile instantly faded to melancholy.

Well, one of them, anyway.

Chapter Seventy-Five

Half comatose in bed, Charity’s eyes popped open as she jerked up to look at the clock. Sweet mother of mercy, it’s after six! Glancing over at her husband who lay spread-eagle in nothing but boxer shorts, she gingerly slipped out from under the covers, hoping she didn’t wake him.

They hadn’t gotten home from The Herald’s New Year’s Eve party till long after two and to sleep till well after three, and if Mitch didn’t get his eight hours, he was a downright crab. Which wouldn’t bode well for their football/poker party with the family today.

Or for her!

Tiptoeing over to his side of the bed, she made sure his alarm clock was disengaged, then turned toward the door.

“Eeeek!” A squeal flew from her lips before she could stop it as she went airborne to land in her husband’s arms, banded around her waist to spoon her close.

“Where ya going, Little Girl?” he whispered in a sexy voice so thick with sleep, she was tempted to stay. He raised a few inches to peer over her at the clock. “It’s not even six yet, and we didn’t get to bed till after three.” He burrowed in to nuzzle the nape of her neck. “I want to sleep in.”

She tried to wiggle free. “You sleep in as late as you want, darling, but I have a busy day with cleanup from Winnie’s party before I get ready for our company this afternoon.”

Mitch latched her closer with a groan after shifting her toward him. “Can’t Consuela do that?” he said, brushing her hair aside to nibble on the lobe of her ear.

“No, because I gave her the day off, remember?” Charity struggled to get up, only to have Mitch tug her back with a sleepy, little-boy pout in his voice. “But I want to snuggle, Little Girl, and start the year off right,” he said yanking her flush while his hands slid the length of her, his fingers inching up under her nightgown.

She pushed him back with a jag of her brow. “Uh, we ‘started the year off right’ last night, sweetheart, if you recall, which is why we didn’t get to sleep till after three.” She managed to vault from the bed before he could pull her back. “Besides, you need your sleep, darling, so you don’t nod off during the radio bowl games like you did last year.”