Page 6 of A Whim and a Prayer

“Besides,” Winnie continued, “If I loved him that way, other than as a friend or a brother, it would be the end of us forever.”

“Oh, come on, Win—why do you say that?” Abby countered, doubt lacing her tone.

Familiar with every nuance of Winnie’s drama-queen personality, Beck could almost see her jaw drop and her eyes bug. “Because look at my track record, Abs! From Joe Spiguzza in the seventh grade all the way to breaking up with Vinnie last month—I end up hating every guy who likes me, and I can’t chance that with Beck—ever! His friendship is way too important to me.”

Beck released a slow bleed of air. Well, that’s something, anyway ...

“Come on, Beck,” Winnie said, bringing him back to the present as she prodded him into dance position with her hand in his, “I just love this song from Carousel—don’t you?”

“Not really, kiddo.” Beck stifled a silent sigh as Winnie started to sway to the beat, softly singing the lyrics about two people who loved each other, but were too afraid to admit it.

Or in his case, only one of them was.

“If I loved you …” she sang along with the music, her soft, throaty voice confirming what a gifted vocalist she was, but the meaning of her lyrics pierced deep.

Because if I loved you, Winifred Dennehy …

Beck stifled a silent grunt as Winnie laid her head on his chest.

I’d be in a heap of trouble for sure.

Chapter Five

Good things come to those who wait …

Henry’s Adam’s apple ducked hard as he leaned a bare shoulder against the bridal suite bathroom door while he waited for Amy in silk pajama bottoms, head bowed and eyes closed. Never in a million years had he thought he could actually hold off until his wedding night to ever make love again.

But he had.

And she was so worth it!

Shifting his back to the door, the barest of smiles played on his lips as he raised his head to stare at the ceiling. “But only through Your grace, God,” he whispered as his mouth suddenly quirked. And the iron will of Amy MacArthur, he supposed. His lips bloomed into a grin. Correction: Mrs. Henry Dennehy.

Those very words suddenly sent a latent cold chill skittering his spine, left over, no doubt, from his past life as the “Hotshot Romeo” that Amy had once labeled him. Back then, he’d been a man for whom “making love” had been the norm rather than the exception.

The cold chills quickly heated into warm ones at the thought of the woman he loved on the other side of the door, the only one he wanted to make love to for the rest of his life. Because oh, yes, God had made a believer of him—good things definitely come to those who wait.

The sound of a frail moan instantly put his senses on alert, head lifting. “Amy?” Brow creased, he gently knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m f-fine, Henry,” she said in a raspy whisper, but somehow she didn’t sound fine.

“What’s wrong?” He stood straight up, palm to the door. “Are you sick?”

“Just a little queasy … I guess because I’m nervous, but I packed some candied ginger root, so I’m just waiting for that to take effect. I’ll be out soon …”

“Okay, sweetheart, take your time.” Hoping she wouldn’t, he started pacing, feeling some nerves of his own. At the creak of the door a few moments later, he whirled around, drawing in a sharp breath and then losing it altogether when he saw her standing there. She was a vision in a nearly sheer negligee that teased with the most beautiful body he’d ever beheld on a woman. Her waist-long scarlet hair flowed over her shoulders and breasts, as if protecting the modesty of a woman who was more chaste than any he’d ever known.

A gulp caught in his throat as he slowly walked to where she stood, heart pounding and body responding like never before. “Sweet saints in heaven, Amy,” he whispered, his voice bordering on hoarse, “you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life.” Swallowing hard, he gently cupped her face in his hands to softly kiss her lips before pulling back with a slight scrunch of his brows. “Are you okay?”

“I hope so.” Her smile wobbled the slightest bit, and his heart flooded with an overpowering need to protect and love her.

“Amy, if you’re not ready—”

“No!” Breath shaky, she stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips, palm resting on his cheek. “I love you, Henry, and I’m ready to show you just how much.”

A slow grin wended its way across his mouth as he carefully picked her up in his arms to carry her to the bed. “I’ll take it slow, Amy, I promise, and please know that I would never hurt you.”

“I do.”