Page 73 of A Whim and a Prayer

All but Winnie, who was too busy assessing her cards.

Beck expelled a tired sigh. “Sorry, guys, but I’m a working stiff, so I really need to head home to get some shut-eye.” He paused, his gaze finally landing on Winnie. “Walk me out, Pooh?”

Winnie’s head shot up, her eyes suddenly guarded. “I’m in the middle of a game, Beck, but I’ll see you next week, okay?”

Abby gave Winnie’s arm a shake. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Winnie—walk the guy out already.”

“Beck understands, don’t you, Beck?” There was a plea in her eyes that had replaced the prior coolness. “I don’t want to ruin the game.”

A nerve twitched in Beck’s jaw, his voice suddenly tight. “No, you’d rather ruin a friendship.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Walk me out, Dennehy—we need to talk.”

“Go!” Abby literally pushed Winnie halfway off the chair, a rare frustration tingeing her tone. “Now!”

“Okay, okay …” Winnie huffed out a noisy breath as she pushed in her chair. “Deal me in—I’ll be right back.”

“No you won’t,” Beck whispered for her ears alone, “or you’ll never see me again.”

She spun around, eyes wide. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she whispered back.

Ignoring her, he gave a wave as he headed for the door. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

“The same to you, Beck,” Winnie’s grandfather called with a smile on his face, apparently happier with his current chess partner—Winnie’s father, Mitch—than he’d been with Alex.

Striding past Winnie, he rifled through the coat rack for her coat, tossing it at her. “Put it on,” he ordered, tired of all her games. “This is gonna take a while.”

“Beck, I don’t have time—I’m holding up the card game—” she began as he snatched his own coat and put it on.

“No. You’re destroying a friendship, Winnie.” Lashing the door open, he gave a hard nod toward the porch and stepped outside, not even bothering to hold the screen door for her. “And if you do, trust me, Dennehy—you’ll have all the time in the world.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Near trembling, Winnie slipped on her coat—a task that Beck usually handled for her, but not tonight. No, tonight there was no helping her on with her coat, no holding doors open, no ushering her out with a gentle hand to her back, and obviously no soft speech. Suddenly that kind and courteous Beck she was so used to was nowhere around, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Slipping out the screen door, she closed the other tightly behind her and buttoned her coat. The ramrod silhouette of Beck next to the swing at the far end of the porch chilled her as much as the icy breeze that rippled her hair. Sucking in a deep breath, she made her way to the end of the porch, the only sound a thin layer of icy snow crunching beneath her feet. She stopped several feet away and stood still as a statue, arms welded to her waist. “Okay, I’m here. What did you want to talk about?”

“Sit!” he snapped, and the order was so out of character, she actually did as he said, back pressed hard against the arm of the swing till she was certain she’d have gouge marks in the morning.

He turned to face her, the light seeping through her mother’s living-room sheers revealing a storm brewing in his eyes. “I’m done, Winnie. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

She blinked, nervously shoving her hands into the sleeves of her coat as she avoided his gaze. “Beck, I told you before—I just need a little time, that’s all, and our friendship will be back on track.”

“No, Winnie, it won’t—it’ll be gone because every day you avoid me, every minute you turn your back on me, you push me and our friendship further away.”

She bit her lip as she peeked up, not at all comfortable with this new version of her best friend. “But I’m not trying to, Beck, I promise. I just need time …”

“For what, Winnie—time for what?” He slapped hands low on his hips as he stared her down.

She rubbed her arms. “You know for what—we’ve had this discussion over and over.”

“Yeah? Well tell me again, because I just don’t get it.”

Squirming inside, she bit the edge of her lip again, so hard she actually tasted blood. “I think”—she looked down, focusing on his feet rather than his face—“we need time apart, Beck, to get past this … this … crazy idea of romance between us.”

“What you mean is, I need time to get past it, don’t you, Winnie?”

She peered up beneath lowered lashes. “Yes. Because I want our friendship back, Beck, and nothing else.”

“Well, this sure in the devil isn’t the way to do it because newsflash, Dennehy—I’m in love with you, and I’m losing patience, because it isn’t going away. But if you keep this up, I will.”