Love by Degree

by Debbie Macomber

  The evening didn’t go well. Charlie took her out for a steak dinner and spent more money than Ellen knew he could afford. She regretted having phoned him. Charlie had obviously interpreted her call as a sign that she was interested in becoming romantically involved. She wasn’t, and didn’t know how to make it clear without offending him.

  “Did you have a good time?” he asked as they drove back toward Capitol Hill.

  “Lovely, thank you, Charlie.”

  His hand reached for hers and squeezed it reassuringly. “We don’t go out enough.”

  “Neither of us can afford it too often.”

  “We don’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to be together,” he said lightly. “Just being with you is a joy.”

  “Thank you.” If only Charlie weren’t so nice. She hated the idea of hurting him. But she couldn’t allow him to go on hoping that she would ever return his feelings. As much as she dreaded it, she knew she had to disillusion him. Anything else would be cruel and dishonest.

  “I don’t think I’ve made a secret of how I feel about you, Ellen. You’re wonderful.”

  “Come on, Charlie, I’m not that different from a thousand other girls on campus.” She tried to swallow the tightness in her throat. “In fact, I saw the way that girl in our sociology class—what’s her name—Lisa, has been looking at you lately.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I believe you’ve got yourself an admirer.”

  “But I’m only interested in you.”

  “Charlie, listen. I think you’re a very special person. I—”

  “Shh,” he demanded softly as he parked in front of Ellen’s house and turned off the engine. He slid his arm along the back of the seat and caressed her shoulder. “I don’t want you to say anything.”

  “But I feel I may have—”

  “Ellen,” he whispered seductively. “Be quiet and just let me kiss you.”

  Before she could utter another word, Charlie claimed her mouth in a short but surprisingly ardent kiss. Charlie had kissed her on several occasions, but that was as far as things had ever gone.

  When his arms tightened around her, Ellen resisted.

  “Invite me in for coffee,” he whispered urgently in her ear.

  She pressed her forehead against his shirt collar. “Not tonight.”

  He tensed. “Can I see you again soon?”

  “I don’t know. We see each other every day. Why don’t we just meet after class for coffee one day next week?”

  “But I want more than that,” he protested.

  “I know,” she answered, dropping her eyes. She felt confused and miserable.

  Ellen could tell he was disappointed from the way he climbed out of the car and trudged around to her side. There was tense silence between them as he walked her up to the front door and kissed her a second time. Again, Ellen had to break away from him by pushing her hands against his chest.

  “Thank you for everything,” she whispered.

  “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Oh, Charlie, don’t start that. Not now.”

  Eyes downcast, he wearily rubbed a hand along the side of his face. “I guess I’ll see you Monday,” he said with a sigh.

  “Thanks for the lovely evening.” She didn’t let herself inside until Charlie had climbed into his car and driven away.

  Releasing a jagged breath, Ellen had just started to unbutton her coat when she glanced up to find Reed standing in the living room, glowering at her.

  “Is something wrong?” The undisguised anger that twisted his mouth and hardened his gaze was a shock.

  “Do you always linger outside with your boyfriends?”

  “We didn’t linger.”

  “Right.” He dragged one hand roughly through his hair and marched a few paces toward her, only to do an abrupt about-face. “I saw the two of you necking.”

  “Necking?” Ellen was so startled by his unreasonable anger that she didn’t know whether to laugh or argue. “Be serious, will you? Two chaste kisses hardly constitute necking.”

  “What kind of influence are you on Derek and the others?” He couldn’t seem to stand still and paced back and forth in agitation.

  He was obviously furious, but Ellen didn’t understand why. He couldn’t possibly believe these absurd insinuations. Perhaps he was upset about something else and merely taking it out on her. “Reed, what’s wrong?” she finally asked.

  “I saw you out there.”

  “You were spying on me?”

  “I wasn’t spying,” he snapped.

  “Charlie and I were in his car. You must’ve been staring out the window to have seen us.”

  He didn’t answer her, but instead hurled another accusation in her direction. “You’re corrupting the boys.”

  “I’m what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What year do you think this is?” She shook her head, bewildered. “They’re nineteen. Trust me, they’ve kissed girls before.”

  “You can kiss anyone you like. Just don’t do it in front of the boys.”

  From the way this conversation was going, Ellen could see that Reed was in no mood to listen to reason. “I think we should discuss this some other time,” she said quietly.

  “We’ll talk about it right now.”

  Ignoring his domineering tone as much as possible, Ellen forced a smile. “Good night, Reed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She was halfway to the stairs when he called her, his voice calm. “Ellen.”

  She turned around, holding herself tense, watching him stride quickly across the short distance that separated them. With his thumb and forefinger, he caught her chin, tilting it slightly so he could study her face. He rubbed his thumb across her lips. “Funny, you don’t look kissed.”

  In one breath he was accusing her of necking and in the next, claiming she was unkissed. Not knowing how to respond, Ellen didn’t. She merely gazed at him, her eyes wide and questioning.

  “If you’re going to engage in that sort of activity, the least you can do—” He paused. With each word his mouth drew closer and closer to hers until his lips hovered over her own and their breath mingled. “The least you can do is look kissed.” His hand located the vein pounding wildly in her throat as his mouth settled over hers.

  Slowly, patiently, his mouth moved over hers with an exquisite tenderness that left her quivering with anticipation and delight. Timidly, her hands crept across his chest to link behind his neck. Again his lips descended on hers, more hungrily now, as he groaned and pulled her even closer.

  Ellen felt her face grow hot as she surrendered to the sensations that stole through her. Yet all the while, her mind was telling her she had no right to feel this contentment, this warmth. Reed belonged to another woman. Not to her … to someone else.

  Color seeped into her face. When she’d understood that he intended to kiss her, her first thought had been to resist. But once she’d felt his mouth on hers, all her resolve had drained away. Embarrassed now, she realized she’d pliantly wrapped her arms around his neck. And worse, she’d responded with enough enthusiasm for him to know exactly what she was feeling.

  He pressed his mouth to her forehead as though he couldn’t bear to release her.

  Ellen struggled to breathe normally. She let her arms slip from his neck to his chest and through the palm of her hand she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. She closed her eyes, knowing that her own pulse was pounding no less wildly.

  She could feel his mouth move against her temple. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days.” The grudging admission came in a voice that was low and taut.

  The words to tell him that she’d wanted it just as much were quickly silenced by the sound of someone walking into the room.

  Guiltily Reed and Ellen jerked apart. Her face turned a deep shade of red as Derek stopped in his tracks, staring at them.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Reed and Ellen said together.

  “Hey, I
’m not interrupting anything, am I? If you like, I could turn around and pretend I didn’t see a thing.”

  “Do it,” Reed ordered.

  “No,” Ellen said in the same moment.

  Derek’s eyes sparkled with boyish delight. “You know,” he said, “I had a feeling about the two of you.” While he spoke, he was taking small steps backward until he stood pressed against the polished kitchen door. He gave his brother a thumbs-up as he nudged open the door with one foot and hurriedly backed out of the room.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Ellen wailed.

  “Me? As I recall you were just as eager for this as I was.”

  “It was a mistake,” she blurted out. A ridiculous, illogical mistake. He’d accused her of being a bad influence on the boys and then proceeded to kiss her senseless.

  “You’re telling me.” A distinct coolness entered his eyes. “It’s probably a good thing I’m leaving.”

  There was no hiding her stricken look. “Again? So soon?”

  “After what’s just happened, I’d say it wasn’t soon enough.”

  “But … where to this time?”

  “Denver. I’ll be back before Thanksgiving.”

  Mentally, Ellen calculated that he’d be away another two weeks.

  When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “It’s just as well, don’t you think?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Looks like rain.” Pat stood in front of the window above the kitchen sink and frowned at the thick black clouds that darkened the late afternoon sky. “Why does it have to rain?”

  Ellen glanced up at him. “Are you seeking a scientific response or will a simple ‘I don’t know’ suffice?”

  The kitchen door swung open and Derek sauntered in. “Has anyone seen Reed?”

  Instantly, Ellen’s gaze dropped to her textbook. Reed had returned to Seattle two days earlier and so far, they’d done an admirable job of avoiding each other. Both mornings, he’d left for his office before she was up. Each evening, he’d come home, showered, changed and then gone off again. It didn’t require much detective work to figure out that he was with Danielle. Ellen had attempted—unsuccessfully—not to think of Reed at all. And especially not of him and Danielle together.

  She secretly wished she’d had the nerve to arrange an opportunity to talk to Reed. So much remained unclear in her mind. Reed had kissed her and it had been wonderful, yet that was something neither seemed willing to admit. It was as if they’d tacitly agreed that the kiss had been a terrible mistake and should be forgotten. The problem was, Ellen couldn’t forget it.

  “Reed hasn’t been around the house much,” Pat answered.

  “I know.” Derek sounded slightly disgruntled and cast an accusing look in Ellen’s direction. “It’s almost like he doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “He doesn’t. Not really.” Pat stepped away from the window and gently set his basketball on a chair. “It’s sort of like he’s a guest who stops in now and then.”

  Ellen preferred not to be drawn into this conversation. She hastily closed her book and stood up to leave.

  “Hey, Ellen.” Pat stopped her.

  She sighed and met his questioning gaze with a nervous smile. “Yes?”

  “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Have a nice Thanksgiving.”

  Relieved that the subject of Reed had been dropped, she threw him a brilliant smile. “You, too.”

  “Where are you having dinner tomorrow?” Derek asked, as if the thought had unexpectedly occurred to him.

  Her mother was still in Arizona, her sister had gone to visit her in-laws and Bud couldn’t get leave, so Ellen had decided to stay in Seattle. “Here.”

  “In this house?” Derek’s eyes widened with concern. “But why? Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

  “My family is going in different directions this year. It’s no problem. In fact, I’m looking forward to having the whole house to myself.”

  “There’s no reason to spend the day alone,” Derek argued. “My parents wouldn’t mind putting out an extra plate. There’s always plenty of food.”

  Her heart was touched by the sincerity of his invitation. “Thank you, but honestly, I prefer it this way.”

  “It’s because of Reed, isn’t it?” Both boys studied her with inquisitive eyes.

  “Nonsense.”

  “But, Ellen, he isn’t going to be there.”

  “Reed isn’t the reason,” she assured him. Undoubtedly, Reed would be spending the holiday with Danielle. She made an effort to ignore the flash of pain that accompanied the thought; she knew she had no right to feel hurt if Reed chose to spend Thanksgiving with his “almost” fiancée.

  “You’re sure?” Derek didn’t look convinced.

  “You could come and spend the day with my family,” Pat offered next.

  “Will you two quit acting like it’s such a terrible tragedy? I’m going to enjoy an entire day alone. Look at these nails.” She fanned her fingers and held them up for their inspection. “For once, I’ll have an uninterrupted block of time to do all the things I’ve delayed for weeks.”

  “All right, but if you change your mind, give me a call.”

  “I asked her first,” Derek argued. “You’ll call me. Right?”

  “Right to you both.”

  * * *

  Thanksgiving morning, Ellen woke to a torrential downpour. Rain pelted against the window and the day seemed destined to be a melancholy one. She lounged in her room and read, enjoying the luxury of not having to rush around, preparing breakfast for the whole household.

  She wandered down to the kitchen, where she was greeted by a heavy silence. The house was definitely empty. Apparently, Reed, too, had started his day early. Ellen couldn’t decide whether she was pleased or annoyed that she had seen so little of him since his return from Denver. He’d been the one to avoid her, and she’d concluded that two could play his silly game. So she’d purposely stayed out of his way. She smiled sadly as she reflected on the past few days. She and Reed had been acting like a couple of adolescents.

  She ate a bowl of cornflakes and spent the next hour wiping down the cupboards, with the radio tuned to the soft-rock music station. Whenever a particularly romantic ballad aired, she danced around the kitchen with an imaginary partner. Not so imaginary, really. In her mind, she was in Reed’s arms.

  The silence became more oppressive during the afternoon, while Ellen busied herself fussing over her nails. When the final layer of polish had dried, she decided to turn on the television to drown out the quiet. An hour into the football game, Ellen noticed that it was nearly dinnertime, and she suddenly felt hungry.

  She made popcorn in the microwave and splurged by dripping melted butter over the top. She carried the bowl into the living room and got back on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her. She’d just found a comfortable position when she heard a noise in the kitchen.

  Frowning, she twisted around, wondering who it could be.

  The door into the living room swung open and Ellen’s heart rate soared into double time.

  “Reed?” She blinked to make sure he wasn’t an apparition.

  “Hello.”

  He didn’t vanish. Instead he took several steps in her direction. “That popcorn smells great.”

  Without considering the wisdom of her offer, she held out the bowl to him. “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” He took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair before joining her on the sofa. He leaned forward, studying the TV. “Who’s winning?”

  Ellen was momentarily confused, until she realized he was asking about the football game. “I don’t know. I haven’t paid that much attention.”

  Reed reached for another handful of popcorn and Ellen set the bowl on the coffee table. Her emotions were muddled. She couldn’t imagine what Reed was doing here when he was supposed to be at Danielle’s. Although the question burned in her mind, she couldn’t bring herself to ask. She glanced at him covertly,
but Reed was staring at the TV as though he was alone in the room.

  “I’ll get us something to drink,” she volunteered.

  “Great.”

  Even while she was speaking, Reed hadn’t looked in her direction. Slightly piqued by his attitude, she stalked into the kitchen and took two Pepsis out of the refrigerator.

  When she returned with the soft drinks and two glasses filled with ice, Reed took one set from her. “Thanks,” he murmured, popping open the can. He carefully poured his soda over the ice and set the can aside before taking a sip.

  “You’re welcome.” She flopped down again, pretending to watch television. But her mind was spinning in a hundred different directions. When she couldn’t tolerate it any longer, she blurted out the question that dominated her thoughts.

  “Reed, what are you doing here?”

  He took a long swallow before answering her. “I happen to live here.”

  “You know what I mean. You should be with Danielle.”

  “I was earlier, but I decided I preferred your company.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy,” she snapped, then swallowed painfully and averted her gaze. Her fingers tightened around the cold glass until the chill extended up her arm. “I’m perfectly content to spend the day alone. I just wish everyone would quit saving me from myself.”

  His low chuckle was unexpected. “That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I already told you.”

  “I can’t accept that,” she said shakily. He was toying with her emotions, and the thought made her all the more furious.

  “All right.” Determinedly, he set down his drink and turned toward her. “I felt this was the perfect opportunity for us to talk.”

  “You haven’t said more than ten words to me in three days. What makes this one day so special?”

  “We’re alone, aren’t we, and that’s more than we can usually say.” His voice was strained. He hesitated a moment, his lips pressed together in a thin, hard line. “I don’t know what’s happening with us.”