Page 120 of A Whim and a Prayer

Three in the morning? She squinted hard at her watch, hardly able to believe it was that late. Then, glancing up at Beck, heat broiled her cheeks when she noticed his disheveled hair hopelessly mussed and rumpled tux, shirt open at the collar and bowtie dangling. Which meant that he and Cari Lee spent a busy time in the car …

Her jealousy flared, but she quickly tamped it down, silently berating herself for being a fool. After all, you were the one who pushed him into her arms, you goose!

But she’d be a bigger goose if she let him go now …

Jumping to her feet, she peered up with steel in both her gaze and her spine, determined to do what she came to do. “No, we can’t talk tomorrow, Campbell,” she said, slapping her hands on her hips for good measure. “This is too important, and I want to talk now.”

His lips thinned as if she’d made him mad and with a defiant lift of his jaw, he started for the door. “Good. You talk all you want, Dennehy, but I’m going to bed.”

She stamped her foot. “Beckett Campbell, you come back here right now!”

He responded with a limp backhanded wave. “Lock the door when you leave.”

Winnie stared in shock. She’d only seen him this angry and belligerent one other time—when she’d jumped the Hassert Ravine in sixth grade, breaking her leg.

“What the devil were you thinking?” he’d shouted, face as pale as it had been when he’d first seen her tonight. “Don’t move, you little brat!” he’d screamed as he’d stomped off to get help, and she’d been as stunned then as she was now because that wasn’t Beck. Which meant there was only one way to stop him in his tracks.

“Mrs. C is my biological mother!” she shouted as he started up the steps, almost grateful for the first time ever that his parents were half deaf and couldn’t hear.

She may as well have shot him, as much as he jerked to a stop, body stiff for several seconds before he slowly turned around. “What the devil did you say?” he whispered, face even whiter than before.

She seared him with a squint, arms in a fold. “Gee, Campbell, wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” She put a hand to her mouth to hide a giggle. “Oh, that’s right—you never got to bed at all …”

“Oh, put a sock in it, Dennehy.” He cocked a hip, glaring right back. “Give me the facts, you little brat, or I’m off to bed.”

She calmly sat back down on the sofa and patted the seat beside her, smile sliding to the left. “I said, Mrs. Cullen is my biological mother, and if you want to know any more than that, Mr. Grouch, you’re going to have to sit your cute little caboose down right here and listen.”

He made her wait several seconds before he pointed a stiff finger at her. “You are a bona fide brat, Dennehy, and I have a good mind to kick you out and go to bed, Mrs. C or no.”

He looked so cute, it was all she could do not to jump and give him a hug, but she rose instead and grabbed her coat from the back of the sofa, putting it on with a lift of her chin. “Fine. See you around.”

She started for the door and he hissed under his breath as he charged forward to yank her back to the sofa, pushing her down. “Sit, you little hooligan, and tell me what the devil’s going on.”

“Ohhhh,” she said, loving that she could rile him because Beck was always the epitome of calm, “so now you want the scoop!”

He dropped down beside her and gave her arm a firm shake. “So help me, Dennehy, if you don’t quit with the wisecracks and tell me what the devil is going on …”

She yanked her arm free and scooted away a tad. “Geez, Campbell—who put the bee in your bonnet?”

“You, Dennehy, so out with it—now! What’s the story?”

So she told him—from the moment she saw Mrs. C sitting in their living room till the moment she called Beck’s mother to see if she could wait for him at their house—detailing every emotion she’d experienced, from shock, suspicion, and anger … to awe, forgiveness, freedom, and finally joy.

When all was said and done, his mood had greatly improved, laughing and crying in each other’s arms over all the blessings God had poured into her life.

But there was still one blessing yet to go …

“Beck?”

“Mmm?” He held her in his arms, head resting on the back of the sofa and eyes closed, both of them completely exhausted.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“What? I carry you home and put you to bed?”

Heat warmed her cheeks as she sat up, hoping that someday, he could do just that. “Nooo …” She took the Claddagh ring off her right hand and nudged it against his lips.

His eyes peeled open at her touch, going wide when he saw the ring in her hand. He sat right up. “You want to give it back?” he said in a near croak, suddenly wide awake.