Just Married! by Shirley Jump Cara Colter

Sam had forgotten was above the pocket.
    “Ethan,” she whispered, and then she smiled as if the sun had come out.
    For a woman disillusioned by the course of true love, Amanda was a hopeless romantic.
    Or maybe she wanted to focus on a love story other than her own, her choices in movies being a case in point.
    “You and Ethan would be perfect together,” she breathed.
    “You’re being silly,” Sam said. “We barely know each other.”
    But Amanda insisted on acting like they had posted banns at St. Michael’s. She hugged Sam hard to her.
    “I always knew there would be a perfect guy for you,” she whispered. “And I’m so glad it’s Ethan.”
    And then she burst into tears—presumably at her own lack of a perfect guy—all over again.
    Or maybe because she was pregnant.
    “Look, I don’t have to go out tonight,” Sam said. “Maybe it would be better if I stayed with you.”
    “Oh, no,” Amanda said. “My mom’s coming over in a bit. Before she does, I’ll help you get ready.”
    Unfortunately Amanda, who had picked the pink fuchsia, insisted on helping her pick out an outfit for the evening.
    And didn’t seem to hear her when she said they were barbecuing on the beach.
    Looking at herself in the mirror a while later, Sam wasn’t quite sure how Amanda had made this outfit materialize from her wardrobe. Her friend had turned a sow’s ear into a silk purse. Sam might have tried to stop Amanda’s enthusiastic makeover, but Amanda had been so animated, and seemed to be forgetting her own troubles, so she had gone along.
    Now what Sam saw made a light go on in her eyes. She looked stunning: shorts ending mid-thigh, underneath a casual short-sleeved beach top that Amanda had totally recreated with the simple addition of a tight belt. Lastly, Amanda had dug up the silk scarf that she had given Sam herself last Christmas, and knotted it casually at her throat.
    Then she’d dug into the makeup they had used for the wedding, and again because it was making Amanda so happy, Sam had gone along.
    But maybe it wasn’t the outfit or the makeup that had put this new light in her eyes, the light that made her look—and feel—as if she was not a little girl, not anyone’s little sister anymore.
    In the mirror, what looked back at her was onehundred-percent pure woman. And Sam felt, not a sense of betraying her real self, but rather a sense of welcoming a disowned part of herself home.

CHAPTER SIX
    E THAN watched the flames of their fire leap against the black star-studded sky, pulled Samantha deeper into the V of his legs, felt her settle back against his chest. They had just cooked clams in a bucket over the open fire, and now the night was growing a bit chilly.
    She was already wearing his shirt over her own. Today, she had been wearing another camisole-style top, misty gray, a delicate concoction that had showed off the fineness of her figure and skin. But what he had noticed most of all was that it made her eyes look more gray than green.
    He suspected it was new, and he loved how Sam was, day after day, embracing the feminine side of herself. There was no doubt she liked the reaction an outfit like that got from him, but he saw that she was genuinely enjoying allowing herself to be pretty.
    Somehow his business kept getting delayed—he’d now been on Cape Cod for nearly a week. It was the third night they had finished the day like this:bringing the barbecue down onto the beach, talking, teasing, tormenting each other late into the night.
    Last night, on the Fourth of July, instead of joining the crowds in town they had come here, to the place he was beginning to think of as their beach.
    And as the sky had lit up with the fireworks from town they had floated in calm waters beneath the exploding rockets, staring up at a dazzling sky, the symphony of fire reflecting in the water all around them. It had easily been the most magical experience of his life, more magical than the first big-league game, more