Barefoot at Moonrise (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 2)
Holding that thought, he turned to Dr. Moore. “So, what exactly are you looking for, Doctor?”
“We’ve already had one ultrasound,” she replied, somewhat distracted as she studied the screen. “But it was a tad early to hear a heartbeat. You’re at eight weeks now, so we should hear…” Her voice faded along with every other sound in the world.
Except the faint, steady, whoosh-whoosh…whoosh-whoosh…whoosh-whoosh coming through the speakers.
“We should hear that,” Dr. Moore finished with a hint of satisfaction.
Beth sucked in a soft breath and looked at Ken. “Do you hear it?”
“Yeah. I hear it.” He wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh. Wanted to jump up and down and holler, but he had to be sure.
“And then,” the doctor said, still scanning the monitor with a slight frown. “We want to see…” The frown left, and her shoulders dropped with an almost imperceptible sigh. “The placenta intact.”
“Is it?” Beth’s question was barely a whisper, the fear in her voice tearing through Ken.
“It is.” Dr. Moore’s whole face lit, and she reached out to turn the screen as if she couldn’t wait for the tech. “There’s your baby, tucked right into its placenta where it is supposed to be.”
“That cute little blob?” Ken asked, a hitch in his voice that made the tech chuckle as a palpable relief pulsed through the little room.
“Right there,” Dr. Moore said, pointing to a dark shape on the screen that even a medic like Ken couldn’t quite make out. “There’s no tearing, nothing out of place, and there’s movement. And listen to that little heart.”
He did, but all he could really hear was his own pulse, rushing wildly in his head.
“I’d like to do a quick exam while I’m here to check on that bleeding,” Dr. Moore said. “Beth, have you been under any unusual stress lately?”
Beth gave a humorless laugh. “This is my second visit tonight to the ER. My father had a heart attack and is upstairs in cardiology.”
Dr. Moore’s eyes opened wide. “Well, no wonder you’re bleeding. That probably had nothing to do with the fall, which our little Endicott baby survived quite nicely.”
Ken dropped his head and blew out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since he’d scooped her up and driven her to the hospital.
“Cavanaugh.”
He opened his eyes and looked at Beth, not sure he heard her right.
“The baby’s last name will be Cavanaugh,” she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of happiness.
“Cupcake Cavanaugh,” he whispered, making one of Beth’s tears spill onto her cheek.
Dr. Moore laughed. “I’ve heard worse.”
But Ken had never heard anything better in his whole life.
Chapter Twenty-five
Once again, Ken stood in the same banquet hall at Casa Blanca Resort & Spa where four months earlier, he’d needed Law Monroe’s glass of courage and kick in the ass to talk to Beth Endicott. Ken could use a little of both again as he eyed the man in the wheelchair across the hall and planned exactly what he would say to Ray Endicott tonight.
It had to be done alone, though. And tonight, even if that meant it had to be in this banquet hall.
He’d hoped Selina and RJ’s wedding on the beach would give him an opportunity to get Ray alone outside, but an early-evening summer storm had rolled over Barefoot Bay, and the party had moved inside.
The weather hadn’t dampened the festive mood of the small wedding, though. But how could it not be a happy occasion? It was Ray Endicott’s first outing since his SCA and odds-beating recovery, and the older man, though in a wheelchair for a while, was in great spirits. Josie rolled him around to talk to everyone, and all the old man wanted to talk about was how his brush with death made him re-prioritize his life and company.
Endicott Development Corporation was officially divided into three divisions now, with Beth and her two brothers each heading one. She didn’t even have to finish the flip, since Ken’s friend Mark Solomon and his soon-to-be wife, Emma, bought it as is and were taking over the complete renovation.
Beth had moved in with Ken, but the whole setup felt temporary and unfinished to him. Ken wanted to change that, but first he had to have a long, overdue conversation with Ray.
When the DJ announced it was time for the bride to toss her bouquet, he saw his chance. “Go out there and get that thing, Beth.” Ken put his arm around her and nudged her toward the large dance floor.
She shot him a look. “Tempting, but my entire family and a good number of people—which would include pretty much everyone you’ve met at this wedding—know that I am four months pregnant. Not exactly ‘bouquet-catching’ material.”
“Have you seen the bride?”
She laughed, because Selina’s pregnancy was far more obvious in her cream-colored wedding gown. As one of the bridesmaids, Beth wore a loose-fitting column of gold that matched her hair and made her skin glow.
Or maybe the glow was due to her healthy, strong pregnancy with a boy—Pookie had won that bet and been quite smug about it, Ken recalled.
“I want you to catch it,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “You know what that would mean, though, don’t you?”
“No,” he said, managing a straight face. “What would it mean?”
Narrowing her eyes, she inched away as a few other women laughed and headed to the middle of the floor. “If I catch it, you’re going down, Cav.”
He reached for her and pulled her back into him for a kiss. “I can’t wait.”
She slipped away and joined the other women as they circled around Selina and the photographer got in place. Ken glanced across the banquet hall but frowned as he lost sight of Ray. He scanned the place for Josie’s black hair. She was never far from her husband.
He spotted her just as she pushed the side door open wide enough to wheel Ray out. The weather must have cleared, he thought, heading around the perimeter of the room to follow them.
Unlike the last time he was hot on the trail of an Endicott in this room, no one grabbed his arm to stop him. All the attention was on the center of the room, where some women squealed and the music built up to the big moment.
Ken leaned on the door and stepped out to the patio, which was empty but dry since it had stopped raining. The sky was clear and faintly purple as a full moon heralded a clear and beautiful night.
He looked around and spotted Josie and Ray at the far edge of the pavilion, taking in the glorious view that happened to include a row of small yellow cabanas that would always hold a place in Ken’s heart.
Crossing the deck, he cleared his throat to make his presence known, and Josie gave a bright smile. “Speak of the devil, Ray, look who it is.” She turned Ray’s chair a little so he could see Ken.
“There you are,” Ray said as Ken approached. “Are you enjoying the wedding, son?”
Son. He swallowed at the term he was still getting used to hearing. Ray had called him son the first time he and Beth visited after Ray was released from the hospital. He’d called Ken son the next time they stopped by, when Ken finally had the chance to make that apology that Ray insisted wasn’t necessary. And, of course, he’d called Ken son when he and Beth brought them all together to share the happy news of their healthy baby-to-be.
But this time? This would be the real test of whether or not Ray Endicott thought Ken Cavanaugh was worthy to be a son.
“It’s a great night, sir, especially now that the rain stopped.”
“Josie and I had to come out here to the scene of the crime.”
For a moment, he thought they meant the cabana, and he slowed his step, but then he realized they were referring to the dining terrace at Junonia where a little over a month ago, Ken had saved Ray’s life.
“That’s why we were talking about you,” Josie said. “I was talking to your mother again this morning and couldn’t help gushing again over what you did for us. She’s so proud of you, Ken.
”
He nodded his thanks. “And she’s grateful for a friend like you, Josie.” He came closer and put a light hand on Ray’s shoulder. “I was wondering if I might have a chance to talk to you, sir.”
“Oh, let me run inside, then.” Josie stood immediately, her eyes glistening with a conspiracy, and she gave a knowing look to her husband. What had they been talking about out here? “I think they’re about to do the bouquet toss, right?”
“Might have already done it,” he said.
Josie grinned at him. “Then you better get to talking to my husband.” She blew Ray a kiss and left them.
Ken took her seat. “Guess this isn’t going to come as a big surprise,” he said on a laugh.
“That you’re going to ask me for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”
He smiled. “That was the plan, sir. I have a whole speech ready about how much I love her, and what kind of husband I’ll be, and what an honor it is to be her partner in life. You want to hear it?”
Ray leaned forward, flinching a little as his chest was most likely a bit sore still. “No,” he said simply. “I know all that.”
Ken looked at him. “Okay. But if you’d humor me, I still want to ask the question, sir.”
“I think this time, I should do the asking,” Ray said.
Ken frowned. “Excuse me?”
The older man inhaled slowly, then let out a ragged breath. “I would like to ask you, Kenneth Cavanaugh, if you would do me the honor of allowing me to be your father.”
Ken blinked in surprise.
“They are big shoes to fill,” Ray said. “I happen to know that for a fact.”
“They were…” Big shoes? Ken swallowed anything he could say, since he was still unable to think about his father without a low-grade unhappiness that he was still trying to overcome. “One of a kind,” he finished somberly.
Ray reached his hand out to Ken’s. “I remember Johnny Cavanaugh quite well, and when I think of him, I don’t think about his troubles or struggles.”
Ken simply stared at Ray, locked on eyes the same color as Beth’s but with a lot more years and experience around the crinkled edges.
“I remember a man who could fix anything, a man who didn’t give up when a job was challenging, and a man who always took the high road. He didn’t badmouth anyone. He didn’t point fingers or make enemies. Everyone loved him. Everyone. God knows they can’t say that about me.”
The words hovered over Ken’s heart, making his chest ache in a way he’d never expected when he walked out here.
“He was generous, your father,” Ray continued. “He’d give you the shirt off his back and never complained. Never. Can’t put a price on that in my business.” Ray leaned a little closer, the hint of tears in his eyes. “John Cavanaugh was a very good man. Competent, kind, and he loved you kids like crazy. He’d beg for overtime to cover Christmas, but gave up hours if you or your brother had a baseball game to play.”
It was true. Dad never missed a sporting event, Ken thought, and they always had presents under the tree.
“He put his family first, and that’s a lesson I could have learned from him,” Ray said.
Ken closed his eyes as the truth of that hit, tempered by the other truth they both knew.
“You think your dad had…issues. A disease. Maybe he did, but we all have issues, son.” Ray pressed his hand on Ken’s. “I try to control the family I’m supposed to love. I scoff at the very people God put in my life to inspire. We all have flaws and baggage and things we hide. But the older a man gets, the more it’s clear what really matters.”
“That’s true, sir.”
“So, instead of you asking me for Beth’s hand…” Ray put his wrinkled hand on top of Ken’s. “I’m asking if you would let me be your father.”
Ken opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. But he was swamped by an unexpected jolt of emotion that made him close his eyes for a second before he spoke.
“You know,” Ken finally said with a half smile. “I could really, really use a father.” He turned his hand over to hold Ray’s. “Thanks…Dad.”
Ray gave a slow, satisfied grin as the door to the banquet room opened and Beth stepped out, as bright and beautiful as the shiny gold dress she wore. She lifted a cheery bouquet with gold and white streamers fluttering in the breeze.
“Captain Cav,” she called playfully. “Guess what I have.”
He leaned a little closer to Ray. “She has my heart, that’s what. Forever.”
“Then go pop the question, son. I’m going to dance at that wedding.”
* * *
“So what was that all about?” Beth asked after they handed Dad back over to Josie and lingered outside, watching her wheel him back into the wedding.
“You know, man talk.”
She gave a dry laugh. “You and my father having a man talk.”
“As I like to tell you, Bethany Endicott, nothing is impossible. Now come with me.” He put his arm around her and turned her toward the beach. “I have a few questions to ask you.”
Her heart fluttered. A few? “Where are we going?”
“Right there.” He pointed to the yellow tent. “Cupcake’s cabana.”
That made her laugh. “He’s going to kill us if we call him Cupcake.”
“They already do at the station. Kid’s going to have to learn to be tough with that nickname.”
“If I had known it was a boy, I would have called him Sledgehammer or something suitably masculine.”
“You want to take off your shoes?” Ken asked as they reached the edge of the deck.
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question. I want to take them off and throw them into the bay.” She happily kicked off heels that had been slicing into her toes for hours. “Ahhh.” She sighed as her feet touched the cool, damp sand. “This feels like déjà vu.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, barefoot now as well. “Best night of my life.” He wrapped his arm around her and added a squeeze. “So far.”
“There are a lot of good ones ahead,” she agreed, then tapped her growing stomach. “Sleepless ones, too.”
“We can handle it,” he said, guiding her into the empty cabana, then turning to close them in by sliding the drapes across.
“Uh, you can’t really be serious with my brothers and dad twenty feet away.”
He laughed. “That’s not why I want privacy.”
She perched on the edge of the chaise, taking a calming breath and a moment to admire the way his white dress shirt fit his broad shoulders. He’d loosened his tie since the dancing started, and he was every bit as hot and sexy as the night he came and found her right here three months ago.
“What were you and my dad talking about?” she asked.
“My father.”
“Oh.” She sighed a little. “I thought you two had that conversation already.”
“Not like this.” He reached for her hand to pull her up.
“Don’t you want to lie down with me?”
“No, I want you to stand right here.”
She did, eyeing him. “Why?”
“So that when I get down on one knee, I can be looking up at you.”
She inhaled a quick breath. “Oh…one knee.”
“You prefer two?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “One’s good.” She knew it was happening. They’d been talking about the future, and with every conversation, a life together became more crystal clear and right. But still…this moment. She pressed her palms together, realizing her fingers were trembling. “I would never doubt your sincerity on one knee or two.”
“Okay, then.” He took her hands in his. “This is it.”
Her breath caught at the words. This is it. “You’ve said that to me before.” Long ago, in the rain.
“But this is…better,” he said. “We’re older and wiser. But not too old for a down-on-one-knee proposal, are we?”
“Not if you can still get up.”
He c
losed his eyes and let out a slow exhale, lifting her hands closer to his heart. “Since the day I met you, Bethany Endicott, twenty-five years ago, I fantasized about this moment.”
She bit her lip, tears welling. “Me, too,” she admitted.
“I have always wanted you to be my wife. I spent more than half of my life thinking I missed the best woman in the world and had no one but myself to blame for that loss.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “But since I don’t blame anyone for anything anymore, I’m okay with what happened in those twenty-five years, because that’s what made us who we are. And, I really love who you are.”
She tried to swallow, but it was getting more difficult every second. “And I love who you are, Kenny Cavanaugh.”
Very slowly, still holding her hands, he lowered himself to one knee and looked up at her. “Beth, I want to marry you and be the best husband, father, friend, and soul mate you can imagine.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box, flipping it open, and even in the dim light, she could see the diamond spark.
“Will you complete my life and be my wife?”
“You already completed mine,” she whispered. “So my answer is yes. A thousand, million times yes.”
He put the ring on her finger, then stood and pulled her close for a long, sweet kiss that lasted until they gave in and slowly eased each other onto the chaise.
“You know what this is?” she asked, tapping the leather cushions under them.
“The place where we baked a cupcake?”
“And…” She touched his face and smiled. “It’s the place where you and I officially became a we.”
* * *
Don’t miss Barefoot at Midnight, the next book in the Barefoot Bay Timeless series. Here’s a sneak peek!
Sneak Peek of
Barefoot at Midnight
by Roxanne St. Claire
Chapter One
When it’s time to take a chance, move fast. Think too hard, and you’ll wimp out.
The words of Lawson Monroe’s late great friend and mentor echoed louder than the controlled chaos of the Naples Ritz-Carlton main kitchen serving four top-notch restaurants in the middle of a dinner rush. Louder than the orders being barked at other sous chefs by the arrogant, incompetent, and clueless moron in charge. Louder, even, than the warning bells that reminded Law of just how hard he’d worked to get to this point.