Page 5 of A Whim and a Prayer

Abby sprang up like a Jack-in-the-box. “Me, me, me—”

“Oh, no you don’t, McGuire,” Winnie said with a hike of her chin, “you already danced with him. It’s my turn because after all, he is my best friend.” She rose to her feet, tossing him a smirk over her shoulder. “Or used to be …”

He grinned as he wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood to his feet. “Uh-oh … is this a dance or a deposition?”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the dance floor halfway through the lively sound of “Doing What Comes Naturally,” and he couldn’t help but smile because that was so Winnie—doing what came naturally for her—being pushy with him.

Or trying to be.

“So, Pooh,” he said in a definite tease, the use of her family’s nickname indicative of his typical big-brother mode, “what’s put the pout on your face instead of a smile at your brother’s wedding?” He swung her into an easier, slower jitterbug more suited to a man with a bum ankle.

Her perfectly manicured brows shot high as he swung her out and back with casual ease. “You have to ask? For pity’s sake, Beck, I only saw you one time last week—at church.” Her lower lip protruded the slightest bit. “Sometimes I think you like God better than me.”

He grinned as he gave her another spin. “That’s because I do, which is actually a good thing, kiddo. After all, He’s the one who gave me the job of watching over you all those years ago, right?”

Her mouth skewed off-center. “Keep in mind one has to be present to watch over someone, Campbell.”

Chapter Four

Beck laughed as the song ended, executing a final whirl that all but bounced her off his chest. “Come on, Win—you know I work by day and study by night. After all, it was your Uncle Luke who put the bug in my ear about night school at Northeastern’s School of Law, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she said half-heartedly as he spun her some more.

A lawyer himself at the Boston Children’s Aid Society, Winnie’s Uncle Luke had told Winnie that he felt Beck’s “keen intelligence, people skills, and boundless empathy for the underdog” would be a perfect fit for the BCAS,” especially since Beck had been an orphan himself.

“You go to law school, Beck,” Uncle Luke had said, “and I’ll hire you before you exit the door.” So when Beck had decided to take him up on it, Winnie had been thrilled. His smile expanded into a grin. As long as it didn’t infringe on his “boundless empathy” for her.

Peering up at him now, she looked like that little five-year-old orphan he first fell in love with, voice fading into a soft and sad tone. “But Revere Beach isn’t the same without you, Beck.” One side of her mouth tipped. “Besides, Mama makes my life miserable with earlier curfews and coercing Teddy and his friends to take us if you’re not along, so promise you’ll go this week?”

Chuckling, he shook his head, hard-pressed to deny her anything when those soulful blue eyes pleaded. “Okay, I’ll try, Winnie, but you know I’m working the extra hours to pay your dad back on the loan for school.”

The pout was back. “Only because you refuse to take him up on his offer to pay for your law school, which is downright silly because you’re like a second son to him, Beck, and a big brother to me.”

A big brother. Somehow, the phrase never failed to cause a twinge in his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you, Pooh, it’s not silly, it’s responsible, especially since your dad already got me the job at The Herald. And, might I remind you, that my being ‘responsible’ is the main reason your mom doesn’t kick a fuss about you going to Revere Beach when I’m along, because I am ‘responsible.’”

“All the more reason you should go, to put both my mother’s mind and mine to rest, so promise me I can tell Mama you’ll be there?”

He expelled a long, wavering breath. “I promise”—his head tipped down in warning—“but it might be later, understood?” He hooked an arm over her shoulder to lead her off the floor.

“As long as you show, Campbell, because if you don’t, you’ll be in a heap of trouble.” She suddenly screeched to a stop with a squeal when the band started playing “If I Loved You,” Winnie’s favorite song from her favorite musical, Carousel. Grabbing his hand, she promptly dragged him back to the middle of the floor.

Figures.

Winnie’s favorite song, but definitely not his. At least not since he’d overheard that conversation between Abby and her over four years ago.

“What about Beck?” Abby had asked when Winnie was lamenting over who she could ask to the Sadie Hawkins dance her freshman year.

“Beck?”

About to round the corner of the Dennehys’ back porch, Beck had frozen in place at the sound of his name. He could almost see Winnie shiver from the shock in her tone. “Ask Beck to the dance? Eww, Abs, that would be like asking Henry!”

Beck’s eyelids had lumbered closed with shame, fully aware that as a twenty-year-old man in college, he shouldn’t be harboring romantic feelings toward a fifteen-year-old girl. Even if that girl was the best friend he’d protected and loved since he was ten.

Another shiver rattled Winnie’s next words. “I mean Beck is my best friend, for pity’s sake—more of a brother than even Henry! For me to ask him or even think of him that way is just plain creepy, like kissing Henry on the lips.”

“Eww!” they both said in unison.

Beck turned to go.