Flinging open the door, she called breathlessly, “Anyone here?”
Both Reed and Derek came out of the kitchen.
Her eyes met Reed’s from across the room. “Hi,” she said in a low, husky voice. “Welcome home.”
He advanced toward her, his gaze holding hers.
Neither spoke as Ellen threw her bag of books on the sofa and moved just as quickly toward him.
He caught her around the waist as though he’d been away for months instead of days, hugging her fiercely.
Ellen savored the warmth of his embrace, closing her eyes to the overwhelming emotion she suddenly felt. Reed was becoming far too important in her life. But she no longer had the power to resist him. If she ever had …
“His plane was right on time,” Derek was saying. “And the airport was hardly busy. And—”
Irritably, Reed tossed a look over his shoulder. “Little brother, get lost.”
CHAPTER NINE
“I’ve got a game today,” Pat said, his fork cutting into the syrup-laden pancakes. “Can you come?”
Ellen’s eyes met Reed’s in mute communication. No longer did they bother to hide their attraction to each other from the boys. They couldn’t. “What time?”
“Six.”
“I can be there.”
“What about you, Reed?”
Reed wiped the corners of his mouth with the paper napkin. “Sorry, I’ve got a meeting. But I should be home in time for the victory celebration.”
Ellen thrilled at the way the boys automatically linked her name and Reed’s. It had been like that from the time he’d returned from his most recent trip. But then, they’d given the boys plenty of reason to think of her and Reed as a couple. He and Ellen were with each other every free moment; the time they spent together was exclusively theirs. And Ellen loved it. She loved Reed, she loved being with him … and she loved every single thing about him. Almost. His reticence on the subject of Danielle had her a little worried, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to question him, especially after her own insistence that they not discuss Danielle. She no longer felt that way—she wanted reassurance—but she’d decided she’d just assume that the relationship was over. As far as she knew, Reed hadn’t spoken to Danielle since the night of the Christmas party. Even stronger evidence was the fact that he drove his truck every day. The Porsche sat in the garage, gathering dust.
Reed stood up and delivered his breakfast plate to the sink. “Ellen, walk me to the door?”
“Sure.”
“For Pete’s sake, the door’s only two feet away,” Derek scoffed. “You travel all over the world and all of a sudden you need someone to show you where the back door is?”
Ellen didn’t see the look the two brothers exchanged, but Derek’s mouth curved upward in a knowing grin. “Oh, I get it. Hey, guys, they want to be alone.”
“Just a minute.” Monte wolfed down the last of his breakfast, still chewing as he carried his plate to the counter.
Ellen was mildly surprised that Reed didn’t comment on Derek’s needling, but she supposed they were both accustomed to it.
One by one, the boys left the kitchen. Silently, Reed stood by the back door, waiting. When the last one had departed, he slipped his arms around Ellen.
“You’re getting mighty brave,” she whispered, smiling into his intense green eyes. Lately, Reed almost seemed to invite the boys’ comments. And when they responded, the teasing rolled off his back like rain off a well-waxed car.
“It’s torture being around you every day and not touching you,” he said just before his mouth descended on hers in an excruciatingly slow kiss that seemed to melt Ellen’s very bones.
Reality seemed light-years away as she clung to him, and she struggled to recover her equilibrium. “Reed,” she whispered, “you have to get to work.”
“Right.” But he didn’t stop kissing her.
“And I’ve got classes.” If he didn’t end this soon, they’d both reach the point of no return. Each time he held and kissed her, it became more difficult to break away.
“I know. I know.” His voice echoed through the fog that held her captive. “Now isn’t the time or place.”
Her arms tightened around his middle as she burrowed her face into his chest. One second, she was telling Reed they had to stop and in the next, she refused to let him go.
“I’ll be late tonight,” he murmured into her hair.
She remembered that he’d told Pat something about a meeting. “Me, too,” she said. “I’m going to the basketball game.”
“Right. Want to go out to dinner afterward?” His breath fanned her temple. “Just the two of us. I love being alone with you.”
Ellen wanted to cry with frustration. “I can’t. I promised the boys dinner. Plus exams start next week and I’ve got to study.”
“Need any help?”
“Only with one subject.” She looked up at him and sadly shook her head. “I don’t suppose you can guess which one.”
“Aren’t you glad you’ve got me?”
“Eternally grateful.” Ellen would never have believed that algebra could be both her downfall and her greatest ally. If it weren’t for that one subject, she wouldn’t have had the excuse to sit down with Reed every night to work through her assignments. But then, she didn’t really need an excuse anymore. …
“We’ll see how grateful you are when grades come out.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but it’s going to take a lot more than your excellent tutoring to rescue me from my fate this time.” The exam was crucial. If she didn’t do well, she’d probably end up repeating the class. The thought filled her with dread. It would be a waste of her time and, even worse, a waste of precious funds.
Reed kissed her lightly before releasing her. “Have a good day.”
“You, too.” She stood at the door until he’d climbed inside the pickup and waved when he backed out of the driveway.
Ellen loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and cleaned off the counter, humming a Christmas carol as she worked.
One of the boys knocked on the door. “Is it safe to come in yet?”
“Sure. Come on in.”
All three innocently strolled into the kitchen. “You and Reed are getting kind of friendly, aren’t you?”
Running hot tap water into the sink, Ellen nodded. “I suppose.”
“Reed hasn’t seen Danielle in a while.”
Ellen didn’t comment, but she did feel encouraged that Derek’s conclusion was the same as hers.
“You know what I think?” he asked, hopping onto the counter so she was forced to look at him.
“I can only guess.”
“I think Reed’s getting serious about you.”
“That’s nice.”
“Nice—is that all you can say?” He gave her a look of disgust. “That’s my brother you’re talking about. He could have any woman he wanted.”
“I know.” She poured soap into the dishwasher, then closed the door and turned the dial. The sound of rushing water drowned out Derek’s next comment.
“Sorry, I have to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.” She sauntered past Pat and Monte, offering them a cheerful smile.
“She’s got it bad.” Ellen heard Monte comment. That was the same thing Ralph had said the night of the party. “She hardly even bakes anymore. Remember how she used to make cookies every week?”
“I didn’t know love did that to a person,” Pat grumbled.
“I’m not sure I like Ellen in love,” Monte flung after her as she stepped out the door.
“I just hope she doesn’t get hurt.”
The boy’s remarks echoed in her mind as the day wore on. Ellen didn’t need to hear their doubts; she had more than enough of her own. Qualms assailed her when she least expected it—like during the morning’s algebra class, or during the long afternoon that followed.
But one look at Reed that evening and all her anxie
ties evaporated. As soon as she entered the house, she walked straight into the living room, hoping to find him there, and she did.
He put some papers back in a file when she walked in. “How was the game?”
“Pat scored seventeen points and is a hero. Unfortunately, the Huskies lost.” Sometimes, that was just the way life went—winning small victories yet losing the war.
She hurried into the kitchen to begin dinner preparations.
“Something smells good.” Monte bounded in half an hour later, sniffing appreciatively.
“There’s a roast in the oven and an apple pie on the counter,” she answered him. She’d bought the pie in hopes of celebrating the Huskies’ victory. Now it would soothe their loss. “I imagine everyone’s starved.”
“I am,” Monte announced.
“That goes without saying,” Reed called from the living room.
Gradually, the other boys trailed in, and it was time to eat.
* * *
After dinner, the evening was spent at the kitchen table, poring over her textbooks. Reed came in twice to make her a fresh cup of tea. Standing behind her chair, he glanced over her shoulder at the psychology book.
“Do you want me to get you anything?” she asked. She was studying in the kitchen, rather than in her room, just to be close to Reed. Admittedly, her room offered more seclusion, but she preferred being around people—one person, actually.
“I don’t need a thing.” He kissed the top of her head. “And if I did, I’d get it myself. You study.”
“Thanks.”
“When’s the first exam?”
“Monday.”
He nodded. “You’ll do fine.”
“I don’t want fine,” she countered nervously. “I want fantastic.”
“Then you’ll do fantastic.”
“Where are the boys?” The house was uncommonly silent for a weekday evening.
“Studying. I’m pleased to see they’re taking exams as seriously as you are.”
“We have to,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to her notebook.
“All right. I get the message. I’ll quit pestering you.”
“You’re not pestering me.”
“Right.” He bent to kiss the side of her neck as his fingers stroked her arms.
Shivers raced down her spine and Ellen closed her eyes, unconsciously swaying toward him. “Now … now you’re pestering me.”
He chuckled, leaving her alone at the kitchen table when she would much rather have had him with her every minute of every day.
* * *
The next morning, Ellen stood by the door, watching Reed pull out of the driveway.
“Why do you do that?” Pat asked, giving her a glance that said she looked foolish standing there.
“Do what?” She decided the best reaction was to pretend she didn’t have any idea what he was talking about.
“Watch Reed leave every morning. He’s not likely to have an accident pulling out of the driveway.”
Ellen didn’t have the courage to confess that she watched so she could see whether Reed drove the pickup or the Porsche. It would sound ridiculous to admit that she gauged their relationship by which vehicle he chose to drive that day.
“She watches because she can’t bear to see him go,” Derek answered when she didn’t. “From what I hear, Michelle does the same thing. What can I say? The woman’s crazy about me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Monte snickered. “And that’s the reason she was with Rick Bloomfield the other day?”
“She was?” Derek sounded completely shocked. “There’s an explanation for that. Michelle and I have an understanding.”
“Sure you do,” Monte teased. “She can date whoever she wants and you can date whoever you want. Some understanding.”
To prove to the boys that she wasn’t as infatuated as they assumed—and maybe to prove the same thing to herself—Ellen didn’t watch Reed leave for work the next two mornings. It was pointless, anyway. So what if he drove his Porsche? He had the car, and she could see no reason for him to not drive it. Except for her unspoken insecurities. And there seemed to be plenty of those. As Derek had said earlier in the week, Reed could have any woman he wanted.
She was the first one home that afternoon. Derek was probably sorting things out with Michelle, Pat had basketball practice and no doubt Monte was in someone’s kitchen.
Gathering the ingredients for spaghetti sauce, she arranged them neatly on the counter. She was busy reading over her recipe when the phone rang.
“Hello,” she said absently.
“This is Capitol Hill Cleaners. Mr. Morgan’s evening suit is ready.”
“Pardon?” Reed hadn’t told her he was having anything cleaned. Ellen usually picked up his dry cleaning because it was no inconvenience to stop there on her way home from school. And she hadn’t minded at all. As silly as it seemed, she’d felt very wifely doing that for him.
“Is it for Reed or Derek?” It was just like Derek to forget something like that.
“The slip says it’s for Mr. Reed Morgan.”
“Oh?”
“Is there a problem with picking it up? He brought it in yesterday and told us he had to have it this evening.”
This evening? Reed was going out tonight?
“From what he said, this is for some special event.”
Well, he wouldn’t wear a suit to a barbecue. “I’ll let him know.”
“Thank you. Oh, and be sure to mention that we close at six tonight.”
“Yes, I will.”
A strange numbness overpowered Ellen as she hung up. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Without even realizing it, she moved rapidly through the kitchen and then outside.
Reed had often told her the importance of reading a problem in algebra. Read it carefully, he always said, and don’t make any quick assumptions. It seemed crazy to remember that now. But he was right. She couldn’t jump to conclusions just because he was going out for the evening. He had every right to do so. She was suddenly furious with herself. All those times he’d offered information about Danielle and she’d refused to listen, trying to play it so cool, trying to appear so unconcerned when on the inside she was dying to know.
By the time she reached the garage she was trembling, but it wasn’t from the cold December air. She knew without looking that Reed had driven his sports car to work. The door creaked as she pushed it open to discover the pickup, sitting there in all its glory.
“Okay, he drove his Porsche. That doesn’t have to mean anything. He isn’t necessarily seeing Danielle. There’s a logical explanation for this.” Even if he was seeing Danielle, she had no right to say anything. They’d made no promises to each other.
Rubbing the chill from her arms, Ellen returned to the house. But the kitchen’s warmth did little to chase away the bitter cold that cut her to the heart. Ellen moved numbly toward the phone and ran her finger down the long list of numbers that hung on the wall beside it. When she located the one for Reed’s office, she punched out the seven numbers, then waited, her mind in turmoil.
“Mr. Morgan’s office,” came the efficient voice.
“Hello … this is Ellen Cunningham. I live, that is, I’m a friend of Mr. Morgan’s.”
“Yes, I remember seeing you the night of the Christmas party,” the voice responded warmly. “We didn’t have a chance to meet. Would you like me to put you through to Mr. Morgan?”
“No,” she said hastily. “Could you give him a message?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued, “Tell him his suit is ready at the cleaners for that … party tonight.”
“Oh, good, he wanted me to call. Thanks for saving me the trouble. Was there anything else?”
Tears welled in Ellen’s eyes. “No, that’s it.”
Being reminded by Reed’s assistant that they hadn’t met the night of the Christmas party forcefully brought to Ellen’s attention how few of his friends she did know. None, really. He’d gone out of his way not to i
ntroduce her to people.
“Just a minute,” Ellen cried, her hand clenching the receiver. “There is something else you can tell Mr. Morgan. Tell him goodbye.” With that, she severed the connection.
A tear rolled down her cheek, searing a path as it made its way to her chin. She’d been a fool not to have seen the situation more clearly. Reed had a good thing going, with her living at the house. She was close to falling in love with him. In fact, she was already there and anyone looking at her could tell. It certainly wasn’t any secret from the boys. She cooked his meals, ran his errands, vacuumed his rugs. How convenient she’d become. How useful she’d been to the smooth running of his household.
But Reed had never said a word about his feelings. Sure, they’d gone out, but always to places where no one was likely to recognize him. And the one time Reed did see someone he knew, he’d pretended he wasn’t with her. When he had included her in a social event, he’d only introduced her to a handful of people, as though … as though he didn’t really want others to know her. As it turned out, that evening had been a disaster, and this time he’d apparently decided to take Danielle. The other woman was far more familiar with the social graces.
Fine. She’d let Reed escort Danielle tonight. But she was going to quit making life so pleasant for him. How appropriate that she now used the old servants’ quarters, she thought bitterly. Because that was all she was to him—a servant. Well, no more. She would never be content to live a backstairs life. If Reed didn’t want to be seen with her, or include her in his life, that was his decision. But she couldn’t … she wouldn’t continue to live this way.
Without analyzing her actions, Ellen punched out a second set of numbers.
“Charlie, it’s Ellen,” she said quickly, trying to swallow back tears.
“Ellen? It doesn’t sound like you.”
“I know.” The tightness in her chest extended all the way to her throat, choking off her breath until it escaped in a sob.
“Ellen, are you all right?”
“Yes … no.” The fact that she’d called Charlie was a sign of her desperation. He was so sweet and she didn’t want to do anything to hurt him. “Charlie, I hate to ask, but I need a friend.”
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