“Well,” Ellen said, coming to her feet. “I think I’ll get moving. I want to take advantage of the holiday to do some errands. Does anybody need anything picked up at the cleaners?”
“I do,” Monte said, raising his hand. “If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll get the slip.”
“Sure.”
By some miracle, Ellen was able to avoid any more questions for the remainder of the day. She went about her errands and didn’t see Reed until late in the afternoon, when their paths happened to cross in the kitchen. He quickly whispered a time and meeting place and explained that he’d leave first. Ellen didn’t have a chance to do more than agree before the boys were upon them.
At precisely seven, Ellen met Reed at the grocery store parking lot two blocks from the house. He’d left ten minutes earlier to wait for her there. As soon as he spotted her, he leaned across the cab of the pickup and opened the door on her side. Ellen found it slightly amusing that when he was with her he drove the pickup, and when he was with Danielle he took the sports car. She wondered whether or not this was a conscious decision. In any event, it told her quite a bit about the way Reed viewed the two women in his life.
“Did you get away unscathed?” he asked, chuckling softly.
She slid into the seat beside him in the cab and shook her head. “Not entirely. All three of them were curious about why Charlie wasn’t coming to the house to pick me up. I didn’t want to lie, so I told them they’d have to ask him.”
“Will they?”
“I certainly hope not.”
Reed’s hand reached for hers and his eyes grew serious. “I’m not convinced that keeping this a secret is the right thing to do.”
“I don’t like it, either, but it’s better than their constant teasing.”
“I’ll put a stop to that.” His voice dropped ominously and Ellen didn’t doubt that he’d quickly handle the situation.
“But, Reed, they don’t mean any harm. I was hoping we could lead them gradually into accepting us as a couple. Let them get used to seeing us together before we spring it on them that we’re...dating.”
“Ellen, I don’t know.”
“Trust me on this,” she pleaded, her eyes imploring him. This arrangement, with its furtiveness and deception, was far from ideal, but for now it seemed necessary. She hoped the secrecy could end soon.
His kiss was brief and ardent. “I don’t think I could deny you anything.” But he didn’t sound happy about it.
The restaurant he took her to was located in the south end of Seattle, thirty minutes from Capitol Hill. At first, Ellen was surprised that he’d chosen one so far from home but the food was fantastic and the view from the Des Moines Marina alone would have been worth the drive.
Reed ordered a bottle of an award-winning wine, a sauvignon blanc from a local winery. It was satisfyingly clear and crisp.
“I spoke to Danielle,” Reed began.
“Reed.” She stopped him, placing her hand over his. “What goes on between you and Danielle has nothing to do with me. We’ve made no promises and no commitments.” In fact, of course, she was dying to know about the other woman Reed had dated for so long. She hoped that if she pretended no interest in his relationship with Danielle, she’d seem more mature and sophisticated than she really was. She didn’t want Reid to think she was threatened by Danielle or that she expected anything from him. Hoped, yes. Expected, no.
He looked a little stunned. “But—”
Swiftly she lowered her gaze. “I don’t want to know.” Naturally, she was longing to hear every detail. As it was, she felt guilty about the other woman. Danielle might have had her faults, but she loved Reed. She must love him to be so patient with his traveling all these months. And when Derek had first mentioned her, he’d spoken as though Reed and Danielle’s relationship was a permanent one.
Danielle and Ellen couldn’t have been more different. Ellen was practical and down-to-earth. She’d had to be. After her father’s death, she’d become the cornerstone that held the family together.
Danielle, on the other hand, had obviously been pampered and indulged all her life. Ellen guessed that she’d been destined from birth to be a wealthy socialite, someone who might, in time, turn to charitable works to occupy herself. They were obviously women with completely dissimilar backgrounds, she and Danielle.
“I’ll be in Atlanta the latter part of next week,” Reed was saying.
“You’re full of good news, aren’t you?”
“It’s my work, Ellen.”
“I wasn’t complaining. It just seems that five minutes after you get home, you’re off again.”
“I won’t be long this time. A couple of days. I’ll fly in for the meeting and be back soon afterward.”
“You’ll be here for Christmas?” Her thoughts flew to her family and how much she wished they could meet Reed. Bud, especially. He’d be in Yakima over the holidays and Ellen was planning to take the bus home to spend some time with him. But first she had to get through her exams.
“I’ll be here.”
“Good.” But it was too soon to ask Reed to join her for the trip. He might misinterpret her invitation, see something that wasn’t there. She had no desire to pressure him into the sort of commitment that meeting her family might imply.
After their meal, they walked along the pier, holding hands. The evening air was chilly and when Ellen shivered, Reed wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“I enjoyed tonight,” he murmured.
“I did, too.” She bent her arm so that her fingers linked with his.
“Tomorrow night—”
“No.” She stopped him, turning so that her arm slid around his middle. Tilting her head back, she stared into the troubled green eyes. “Let’s not talk about tomorrow. For right now, let’s take one day at a time.”
His mouth met hers before she could finish speaking. A gentle brushing of lips. Then he deepened the kiss, and his arms tightened around her, and her whole body hummed with joy.
Ellen was lost, irretrievably lost, in the taste and scent of this man. She felt frightened by her response to him—it would be so easy to fall in love with Reed. Completely in love. But she couldn’t allow that to happen. Not yet. It was too soon.
* * *
HER WORDS ABOUT taking each day as it came were forcefully brought to Ellen’s mind the following evening. She’d gone to the store and noticed Reed’s Porsche parked in the driveway. When she returned, both Reed and the sports car had disappeared.
He was with Danielle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WHY COULDN’T I see that?” Ellen moaned, looking over the algebraic equation Reed had worked out. “If I can fix a stopped-up sink, tune a car engine and manage a budget, why can’t I understand something this simple?” She was quickly losing a grip on the more advanced theories they were now studying.
“Here, let me show it to you again.”
Her hand lifted the curls off her forehead. “Do you think it’ll do any good?”
“Yes, I do.” Reed obviously had more faith in her powers of comprehension than she did. Step by step, he led her through another problem. When he explained the textbook examples, the whole process seemed so logical. Yet when she set out to solve a similar equation on her own, nothing went right.
“I give up.” Throwing her hands over her head, she leaned back in the kitchen chair and groaned. “I should’ve realized that algebra would be too much for me. I had difficulty memorizing the multiplication tables, for heaven’s sake.”
“What you need is a break.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Twenty years?” She stood up and brought the cookie jar to the table. “Here, this will help ease the suffering.” She offered him a chocolate-chip cookie and took one herself.
“Be more pati
ent with yourself,” Reed urged.
“There’s only two weeks left in this term—and then exams. I need to understand this stuff and I need to understand it now.”
He laid his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently. “No, you don’t. Come on, I’m taking you to a movie.”
“I’ve got to study,” she protested, but not too strenuously. Escaping for an hour or two sounded infinitely more appealing than struggling with these impossible equations.
“There’s a wonderful foreign film showing at the Moore Egyptian Theatre and we’re going. We can worry about that assignment once we get back.”
“But, Reed—”
“No buts. We’re going.” He took her firmly by the hand and led her into the front hall. Derek and Monte were watching TV and the staccato sounds of machine guns firing could be heard in the background. Neither boy noticed them until Reed opened the hall closet.
“Where are you two headed?” Derek asked, peering around the living-room door as Reed handed Ellen her jacket.
“A movie.”
Instantly Derek muted the television. “The two of you alone? Together?”
“I imagine there’ll be one or two others at the cinema,” Reed responded dryly.
“Can I come?” Monte had joined Derek in the doorway.
Instantly Derek’s elbow shoved the other boy in the ribs. “On second thought, just bring me back some popcorn, okay?”
“Sure.”
Ellen pulled a knit cap over her ears. “Do either of you want anything else? I’d buy out the concession stand if one of you felt inclined to do my algebra assignment.”
“No way.”
“Bribing them won’t help,” Reed commented.
“I know, but I was hoping....”
It was a cold, blustery night. An icy north wind whipped against them as they hurried to Reed’s truck. He opened the door for her before running around to the driver’s side.
“Brr.” Ellen shoved her hands inside her pockets. “If I doubted it was winter before, now I know.”
“Come here and I’ll warm you.” He patted the seat beside him, indicating that she should slide closer.
Willingly she complied, until she sat so near him that her thigh pressed against his. Neither of them moved. It had been several days since they’d been completely alone together and longer still since he’d held or kissed her without interruption. The past week had been filled with frustration. Often she’d noticed Reed’s gaze on her, studying her face and her movements, but it seemed that every time he touched her one of the boys would unexpectedly appear.
Reed turned to her. Their thoughts seemed to echo each other’s; their eyes locked hungrily. Ellen required no invitation. She’d been longing for his touch. With a tiny cry she reached for him just as his arms came out to encircle her, drawing her even closer.
“This is crazy,” he whispered fervently into her hair.
“I know.”
As though he couldn’t deny himself any longer, he cradled her face with both hands and he slowly lowered his mouth to hers.
Their lips clung and Reed’s hand went around her ribs as he held her tight. The kiss was long and thoroughly satisfying.
Panting, he tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck. “We’d better get to that movie.”
It was all Ellen could do to nod her head in agreement.
They moved apart and fastened their seat belts, both of them silent.
When Reed started the truck, she saw that his hand was trembling. She was shaking too, but no longer from the cold. Reed had promised to warm her and he had, but not quite in the way she’d expected.
They were silent as Reed pulled onto the street. After days of carefully avoiding any kind of touch, any lingering glances, they’d sat in the driveway kissing in direct view of curious eyes. She realized the boys could easily have been watching them.
Ellen felt caught up in a tide that tossed her closer and closer to a long stretch of rocky beach. Powerless to alter the course of her emotions, she feared for her heart, afraid of being caught in the undertow.
“The engineering department is having a Christmas party this weekend at the Space Needle,” Reed murmured.
Ellen nodded. Twice in the past week he’d left the house wearing formal evening clothes. He hadn’t told her where he was going, but she knew. He’d driven the Porsche and he’d come back smelling of expensive perfume. For a Christmas party with his peers, Reed would escort Danielle. She understood that and tried to accept it.
“I want you to come with me.”
“Reed,” she breathed, uncertain. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” His hand reached for hers. “I want you with me.”
“The boys—”
“Forget the boys. I’m tired of playing games with them.”
Her smile came from her heart. “I am, too,” she whispered.
“I’m going to have a talk with them.”
“Don’t,” she pleaded. “It’s not necessary to say anything.”
“They’ll start in with their teasing,” he warned. “I thought you hated that.”
“I don’t care as much anymore. And if they do, we can say something then.”
He frowned briefly. “All right.”
The Moore Egyptian was located in the heart of downtown Seattle, so parking was limited. They finally found a spot on the street three blocks away. They left the truck and hurried through the cold, arm in arm, not talking. The French film was a popular one; by the time they got to the cinema, a long line had already formed outside.
A blast of wind sliced through Ellen’s jacket and she buried her hands in her pockets. Reed leaned close to ask her something, then paused, slowly straightening.
“Morgan.” A tall, brusque-looking man approached Reed.
“Dailey,” Reed said, quickly stepping away from Ellen.
“I wouldn’t have expected to see you out on a night like this,” the man Reed had called Dailey was saying.
“I’m surprised to see you, too.”
“This film is supposed to be good,” Dailey said.
“Yeah. It’s got great reviews.”
Dailey’s eyes returned to the line and rested on Ellen, seeking an introduction. Reed didn’t give him one. Reed was obviously pretending he wasn’t with Ellen.
She offered the man a feeble smile, wondering why Reed would move away from her, why he wouldn’t introduce her to his acquaintance. The line moved slowly toward the ticket booth and Ellen went with it, leaving Reed talking to Dailey on the pavement. She felt a flare of resentment when he rejoined her a few minutes later.
“That was a friend of a friend.”
Ellen didn’t respond. Somehow she didn’t believe him. And she resented the fact that he’d ignored the most basic of courtesies and left her standing on the sidewalk alone, while he spoke with a friend. The way he’d acted, anyone would assume Reed didn’t want the man to know Ellen was with him. That hurt. Fifteen minutes earlier she’d been soaring with happiness at his unexpected invitation to the Christmas party, and now she was consumed with doubt and bitterness. Perhaps this Dailey was a friend of Danielle’s and Reed didn’t want the other woman to know he was out with Ellen. But that didn’t really sound like Reed.
Once inside the cinema, Reed bought a huge bucket of buttered popcorn. They located good seats, despite the crowd, and sat down, neither of them speaking. As the lights went down, Reed placed his hand on the back of her neck.
Ellen stiffened. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“What?”
“Touch me. Someone you know might recognize you.”
“Ellen, listen...”
The credits started to roll on the huge screen and she shook her head, not wanting to
hear any of his excuses.
But maintaining her bad mood was impossible with the comedy that played out before them. Unable to stop herself, Ellen laughed until tears formed in her eyes; she was clutching her stomach because it hurt from laughing. Reed seemed just as amused as she was, and a couple of times during the film, their smiling gazes met. Before she knew it, Reed was holding her hand and she didn’t resist when he draped his arm over her shoulders.
Afterward, as they strolled outside, he tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I told you a movie would make you feel better.”
It had and it hadn’t. Yes, she’d needed the break, but Reed’s behavior outside the cinema earlier had revived the insecurities she was trying so hard to suppress. She knew she wasn’t nearly as beautiful or sophisticated as Danielle.
“You do feel better?” His finger lifted her chin to study her eyes.
There was no denying that the film had been wonderful. “I haven’t laughed so hard in ages,” she told him, smiling.
“Good.”
* * *
FRIDAY NIGHT, ELLEN wore her most elaborate outfit—slim black velvet pants and a silver lamé top. She’d spent hours debating whether an evening gown would have been more appropriate, but had finally decided on the pants. Examining herself from every direction in the full-length mirror that hung from her closet door, Ellen released a pent-up breath and closed her eyes. This one night, she wanted everything to be perfect. Her heels felt a little uncomfortable, but she’d get used to them. She rarely had any reason to wear heels. She’d chosen them now because Reed had said there’d be dancing and she wanted to adjust her height to his.
By the time she reached the foot of the stairs, Reed was waiting for her. His eyes softened as he looked at her. “You’re lovely.”
“Oh, Reed, are you sure? I don’t mind changing if you’d rather I wear something else.”
His eyes held hers for a long moment. “I don’t want you to change a thing.”
“Hey, Ellen.” Derek burst out of the kitchen, and stopped abruptly. “Wow.” For an instant he looked as though he’d lost his breath. “Hey, guys,” he called eagerly. “Come and see Ellen.”
The Rain Sparrow Page 10
