Page 32 of A Whim and a Prayer

He turned back to Brayden, and Winnie would have sworn he’d grown inches in the process. “So … unless you want me to mess up that pretty face of yours, hot shot, I suggest you go find another victim and leave Winnie alone, because she’s coming with me.” With a silent death stare, he proceeded to haul her to the door none too gently.

“Don’t go anywhere, Brayden,” Winnie called over her shoulder, “because I’ll be right back.”

“No you won’t,” Beck muttered while he dragged her inside, finally pushing her into the nearest empty chair.

“What is wrong with you?” she hissed, jerking free.

“What’s wrong with me?” He towered over her like impending doom, hands perched low on his hips and jaw chiseled in stone. “I’m the appointed chaperone, remember? The ‘only one’ your mother trusts to take you to Revere Beach?”

Her chin jutted up. “No, you’re my best friend, who’s supposed to care about what I want.”

He unleashed a noisy blast of air as he plowed a hand through his hair. “I do care about what you want, you little brat. I just care about what’s best for you more.”

She shot up from the chair. “For pity’s sake, Beck, I’m eighteen years old—”

“Not for three more hours,” he corrected with a hard smile. “And you’re a year younger—and way less mature—than your peers, kiddo.”

“Gee, thanks for the support, Campbell. Can I help it if I was so smart, they moved me up a grade?”

He grunted as he stared her down. “Yeah, book smart, people stupid,” he said in a clipped tone as he gave an abrupt nod toward the door, “especially when it comes to that goon out there.”

“Yeah, well that ‘goon’ likes me and cares for me, smart guy—and I care for him.”

Beck gave a slow nod. “Yeah, I can see how deeply he cares, kiddo—tonsil deep, from what I saw.”

Blood whooshed into her cheeks as she stomped a foot. “You cannot keep me away from someone I care about, Beck, best friend or no.”

His mouth hardened into a thin line. “You’re right, Winnie—I can’t.”

She blinked, caught off-guard by his response. “Well … good. I’m glad we agree”—she expelled a slow shaky breath as she moved toward the door—“I’ll see you back at the table, then.”

“I can’t keep you away from him, Winnie,” he said in a quiet tone that held a trace of warning, “but your mother can.”

She caught her breath as she whirled around, eyes wide with shock. “You wouldn’t,” she breathed, hardly able to believe her best friend would betray her like that.

He just stood there, a stony Colossus of Rhodes with arms crossed. “Try me.”

Her mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious ...”

He motioned his head toward the door. “Yeah? Go out there and find out.”

Frustration swarmed as she cauterized him with a look. “At least let me go and say goodbye, then, you killjoy, because you’re ruining my birthday even more if you don’t.”

He never blinked once. “And you’re ruining our friendship if you do.”

Her gaze iced over as she took a step forward, fists balled at her sides and lips clamped tight, angrier at Beckett Campbell than she’d ever been in her life. “I don’t like you very much right now,” she hissed, stomping past on her way back to the table.

“Yeah? Well join the club,” he muttered as he followed behind.

She tried to run ahead to lose him, but she knew he was close behind, the heat of his gaze all but burning the back of her head.

Beck had always been her protector, the one who lifted her up when she was down, and the best friend she could always count on.

But not tonight.

No, tonight when someone else had made her feel like a woman for the first time in her life, he had treated her like a little girl, refusing to let her grow up.

Just like her mother.