Love by Degree

by Debbie Macomber

  “Nothing’s happening,” she said wildly. “You kissed me, and we both admitted it was a mistake. Can’t we leave it at that?”

  “No,” he answered dryly. “I don’t believe it was such a major tragedy, and neither do you.”

  If it had really been a mistake, Ellen wouldn’t have remembered it with such vivid clarity. Nor would she yearn for the taste of him again and again, or hurt so much when she knew he was with Danielle.

  Swiftly she turned her eyes away from the disturbing intensity of his, unwilling to reveal the depth of her feelings.

  “It wasn’t a mistake, was it, Ellen?” he prompted in a husky voice.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “No,” she whispered, but the word was barely audible.

  He gathered her close and she felt his deep shudder of satisfaction as he buried his face in her hair. Long moments passed before he spoke. “Nothing that felt so right could have been a mistake.”

  Tenderly he kissed her, his lips touching hers with a gentleness she hadn’t expected. As if he feared she was somehow fragile; as if he found her highly precious. Without conscious decision, she slipped her arms around him.

  “The whole time Danielle and I were together this afternoon, I was wishing it was you. Today, of all days, it seemed important to be with you.”

  Ellen gazed up into his eyes and saw not only his gentleness, but his confusion. Her fingers slid into the thick hair around his lean, rugged face. “Danielle couldn’t have been pleased when you left.”

  “She wasn’t. I didn’t even know how to explain it to her. I don’t know how to explain it to myself.”

  Ellen swallowed the dryness that constricted her throat. “Do you want me to move out of the house?”

  “No,” he said forcefully, then added more quietly, “I think I’d go crazy if you did. Are you a witch who’s cast some spell over me?”

  She tried unsuccessfully to answer him, but no words of denial came. The knowledge that he was experiencing these strange whirling emotions was enough to overwhelm her.

  “If so, the spell is working,” he murmured, although he didn’t sound particularly happy about the idea.

  “I’m confused, too,” she admitted and leaned her forehead against his chest. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her open hand.

  His long fingers stroked her hair. “I know.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “The night you went out with Charlie, I was completely unreasonable. I need to apologize for the things I said. To put it simply, I was jealous. I’ve acknowledged that, these last weeks in Denver.” Some of the tightness left his voice, as though the events of that night had weighed heavily on his mind. “I didn’t like the idea of another man holding you, and when I saw the two of you kissing, I think I went a little berserk.”

  “I … we don’t date often.”

  “I won’t ask you not to see him again,” he said reluctantly. “I can’t ask anything of you.”

  “Nor can I ask anything of you.”

  His grip around her tightened. “Let’s give this time.”

  “It’s the only thing we can do.”

  Reed straightened and draped his arm around Ellen’s shoulders, drawing her close to his side. Her head nestled against his chest. “I’d like us to start going out together,” he said, his chin resting on the crown of her head. “Will that cause a problem for you?”

  “Cause a problem?” she repeated uncertainly.

  “I’m thinking about the boys.”

  Remembering their earlier buffoonery and the way they’d taken such delight in teasing her, Ellen shrugged. If those three had any evidence of a romance between her and Reed, they could make everyone’s lives miserable. “I don’t know.”

  “Then let’s play it cool for a while. We’ll move into this gradually until they become accustomed to seeing us together. That way it won’t be any big deal.”

  “I think you might be right.” She didn’t like pretence or deceit, but she’d be the one subjected to their heckling. They wouldn’t dare try it with Reed.

  “Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Not as much as I will. But how are we going to do this? It’ll be obvious that we’re going out,” he mused aloud. “Not if we leave the house at different times,” she said. She could feel his frown. “Is that really necessary?”

  “I’m afraid so. …”

  Ellen and Reed spent the rest of the evening doing nothing more exciting than watching television. His arm remained securely around her shoulders and she felt a sense of deep contentment that was new to her. It was a peaceful interlude during a time that had become increasingly wrought with stress.

  Derek got back to the house close to nine-thirty. They both heard him lope in through the kitchen and Reed gave Ellen a quick kiss before withdrawing his arm.

  “Hi.” Derek entered the room and stood beside the sofa, shuffling his feet. “Dad wondered where you were.” His gaze flitted from Ellen to his brother.

  “I told them I wouldn’t be there for dinner.”

  “I know. But Danielle called looking for you.”

  “She knew where I was.”

  “Apparently not.” Reed’s younger brother gestured with one hand. “Are you two friends again?”

  Reed’s eyes found Ellen’s and he smiled. “You could say that.”

  “Good. You haven’t been the easiest people to be around lately.” Without giving them a chance to respond, he whirled around and marched upstairs.

  Ellen placed a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles. “Well, he certainly told us.”

  Amusement flared in Reed’s eyes, and he chuckled softly. “I guess he did, at that.” His arm slid around Ellen’s shoulders once again. “Have you been difficult lately?”

  “I’m never difficult,” she said.

  “Me neither.”

  They exchanged smiles and went back to watching their movie.

  As much as Ellen tried to concentrate on the television, her mind unwillingly returned to Derek’s announcement. “Do you think you should call Danielle?” She cast her eyes down, disguising her discomfort. Spending these past few hours with Reed had been like an unexpected Christmas gift, granted early. But she felt guilty that it had been at the other woman’s expense.

  Impatience tightened Reed’s mouth. “Maybe I’d better. I didn’t mean to offend her or her family by leaving early.” He paused a moment, then added, “Danielle’s kind of high-strung.”

  Ellen had noticed that, but she had no intention of mentioning it. And she had no intention of listening in on their conversation, either. “While you’re doing that, I’ll wash up the popcorn dishes, then go to bed.”

  Reed’s eyes widened slightly in a mock reprimand. “It’s a little early, isn’t it?”

  “Perhaps,” she said, faking a yawn, “but I’ve got this hot date tomorrow night and I want to be well rested for it.”

  The front door opened and Pat sauntered in, carrying his duffle bag. “Hi.” He stopped and studied them curiously. “Hi,” he repeated.

  “I thought you were staying at your parents’ for the weekend.” Ellen remembered that he’d said something about being gone for the entire four-day holiday.

  “Mom gave my bedroom to one of my aunts. I can’t see any reason to sleep on the floor when I’ve got a bed here.”

  “Makes sense,” Reed said with a grin.

  “Are you two getting along again?”

  “We never fought.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Pat mumbled sarcastically. “And a basket isn’t worth two points.”

  Ellen had been unaware how much her disagreement with Reed had affected the boys. Apparently, Reed’s reaction was the same as hers; their eyes met briefly in silent communication.

  “I’ll go up with you,” she told Pat. “See you in the morning, Reed.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She left Pat on the second floor to trudge up to the th
ird.

  It shouldn’t have been a surprise that she slept so well. Her mind was at ease and she awoke feeling contented and hopeful. Neither she nor Reed had made any commitments yet. They didn’t know if what they felt would last a day or a lifetime. They were explorers, discovering the uncharted territory of a new relationship.

  She hurried down the stairs early the next morning. Reed was already up, sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the paper.

  “Morning,” she said, pouring water into the tea kettle and setting it on the burner.

  “Morning.” His eyes didn’t leave the paper.

  Ellen got a mug from the cupboard and walked past Reed on her way to get the canister of tea. His hand reached out and clasped her around the waist, pulling her down into his lap.

  Before she could protest, his mouth firmly covered hers. When the kiss was over, Ellen straightened, resting her hands on his shoulders. “What was that for?” she asked to disguise how flustered he made her feel.

  “Just to say good morning,” he said in a warm, husky voice. “I don’t imagine I’ll have too many opportunities to do it in such a pleasant manner.”

  “No,” she said and cleared her throat. “Probably not.”

  Ellen was sitting at the table, with a section of the paper propped up in front of her, when the boys came into the kitchen.

  “Morning,” Monte murmured vaguely as he opened the refrigerator. He was barefoot, his hair was uncombed and his shirt was still unbuttoned. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Whatever your little heart desires,” she told him, neatly folding over a page of the paper.

  “Does this mean you’re not cooking?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But—”

  Reed lowered the sports page and glared openly at Monte.

  “Cold cereal will be fine,” Monte grumbled and took down a large serving bowl, emptying half the contents of a box of rice crisps inside.

  “Hey, save some for me,” Pat hollered from the doorway. “That’s my favorite.”

  “I was here first.”

  Derek strolled into the kitchen. “Does everyone have to argue?”

  “Everyone?” Reed cocked a brow in his brother’s direction.

  “First it was you and Ellen, and now it’s Pat and Monte.”

  “Hey, that’s right,” Monte cried. “You two aren’t fighting. That’s great.” He set his serving bowl of rice crisps on the table. “Does this mean … you’re … you know.”

  Lowering the paper, Ellen eyed him sardonically. “No, I don’t know.”

  “Are you … seeing each other?” A deep flush darkened Monte’s face.

  “We see each other every day.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking.”

  “But that’s all I’m answering.” From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Pat pantomiming a fiddler, and she groaned inwardly. The boys were going to make it difficult to maintain any kind of romantic relationship with Reed. She cast him a speculative glance. But if Reed had noticed the activity around him, he wasn’t letting on, and Ellen was grateful.

  “I’ve got a practice game tonight,” Pat told Ellen as he buttered a piece of toast. “Do you want to come?”

  Flustered, she automatically sought out Reed. “Sorry … I’d like to come, but I’ve got a date.”

  “Bring him along.”

  “I … don’t know if he likes basketball.”

  “Yeah, he does,” Derek supplied. “Charlie and I were talking about it recently and he said it’s one of his favorite games.”

  She didn’t want to tell an outright lie. But she would save herself a lot of aggravation if she simply let Derek and the others assume it was Charlie she’d be seeing.

  “What about you, Reed?” Derek asked.

  His gaze didn’t flicker from the paper and Ellen marveled at his ability to appear so dispassionate. “Not tonight. Thanks anyway.”

  “Have you got a date, too?” Derek pressed.

  It seemed as though everyone in the kitchen was watching Reed, waiting for his response. “I generally go out on Friday nights.”

  “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.

  Dani
elle 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.