Page 4 of A Whim and a Prayer

Winnie peered up with a maternal squint. “Again? You keep this up, Campbell, and you’ll be nothing but a scarecrow.”

“But a very rich scarecrow,” he teased with a tug of her hair before he glanced around. “Now where does a fella get some food around here?”

Winnie jumped to her feet, brushing out the skirt of her sky-blue taffeta gown. “I’ll get it, Beck. I asked the kitchen to keep a plate warm for you, just in case.”

“Great! I’ll go with you.”

She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “No sir, you stay and relax—heaven knows you need it.”

His brows dipped low. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Well, then, thanks, Win, I am pretty dead on my feet.” Smiling, he plopped into his chair while skimming a finger along his collar to loosen the tie she’d given him for Christmas. “You’re the best.”

“Maybe not,” she said with a sassy smile over her shoulder when the band started playing one of Abby’s favorite songs. She gave a nod toward her cousin who immediately jumped to her feet. “After all, you still have to dance with her.”

Chapter Three

“Uh-oh … the food must be here because your eyes just lit up like a 100-watt lightbulb, Beckett Campbell, and I doubt even Glen Miller’s ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’ … or I can light a fire like that.”

Heat braised the back of Beck’s neck as he spun Abby around several times in a Lindy Hop swing, her words hitting their mark—and then some. Because nobody knew it wasn’t just the food that lit a fire within, but unfortunately, the girl delivering it—a secret he would probably take to his grave.

He whirled Abby in a final airborne spin. “Whoops—you caught me, Abs. But keep in mind that man does not live by bread alone. But it sure helps if you want to dance the night away.”

“Amen to that, my friend, so let’s get you fed.” She led the way back to their table, where Winnie had set a silver-domed plate in front of his chair that instantly had him salivating like Pavlov’s pet.

“Bless you, my child,” he said with a purposely benign pat on Winnie’s head before sitting down to devour his meal. Placing a linen napkin on his lap, he lifted the silver lid and moaned at the sight of the menu Winnie said Mrs. D had chosen for the reception—a chicken breast stuffed with Swiss cheese and glazed with white wine, wild rice with mushrooms and toasted almonds, a pear poached in red wine, and fresh lemon green beans bundled in a real lemon slice. He sighed in pure pleasure, hard-pressed to keep the drool away.

“So, fill me in on the wedding,” he said before popping several green beans in his mouth.

“Oh, Beck, it was amazing!” Bella gushed, hands clasped to her chest. “Especially the kiss at the end!”

“Oh, yes, sooooo romantic,” Laney added with stars in her eyes.

“Boy, I’ll say!” Abby’s ribcage rose and fell with a lovesick sigh. “When Father Mac said, ‘You may now kiss the bride,’ I’ll tell you what—our Henry didn’t waste any time. He dipped Amy way back to lay an earth-shattering kiss on her, and boy-oh-boy, neither of them came up for air for a long, long while.”

“That so?” Beck grinned as he cut a piece of his chicken, homing in on the only other male at the table. “So, Ted—as a guy—what’s your take on the kiss? Was it ‘romantic’?”

Teddy shrugged, his patient smile edged with boredom. “It was just a kiss.” He paused, a sparkle suddenly dancing in his eyes. “But pelting them with rice after? Pretty keen.”

“Just a kiss?!” Winnie stared Teddy down, those blue eyes completely surrounded by white. “Just a kiss, you say?! That was hands-down the best kiss I’ve ever seen, Theodore Brady, probably even better than the rumored 2-1/2-minute kissing scene between Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman in the upcoming movie, Notorious! And if you can’t see that, Cousin—I’ll be happy to lend you a stack of my old Love Story and Photoplay magazines so you can study up.”

“No, thanks, Win. Real men don’t read romance, do they, Beck?”

Beck chuckled as he finished his green beans, then tackled the pear. “Nope.” He smiled as he chewed. “Until some girl catches his eye, then I’m afraid it’s a whole ’nother story, my friend.”

“Ooooo … do tell … has some girl caught your eye, Beck?” Abby asked with a dance of brows.

Beck could feel the blood crawling up the back of his neck as he focused on devouring the pear. “Naw, too busy. Between The Herald by day and studying by night, haven’t had much time for anything else.”

“I can vouch for that,” Winnie said, nose scrunched in that cute, little pout that always made him smile. “If Mama didn’t pester him to come for dinner once or twice a week, I swear I’d never see the guy.”

He delivered a half-lidded smile as he tossed a piece of chicken in his mouth. “Sure you would, kiddo, because you’d hound me to death if you didn’t.”

“But you just graduated from college, so school’s over now, right?” Abby leaned in, arms crossed on the table. “Which means now you can take time for girls.”

“I am taking time for girls now, aren’t I?” He polished off the last of his food in record time, throat glugging as he washed it down with a goblet of water. “So, who’s ready to dance?”