Reed responded with a dismissive gesture of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Until things are straightened out, I’ll sleep up there. Once I’ve taken a long, hot shower and gotten some rest I might be able to make sense out of this mess.”
“No, please,” Ellen persisted. “If I’m in your room, then I should move.”
“No,” Reed grumbled on his way out the door, waving aside her offer. “It’s only my house. I’ll sleep in the servants’ quarters.”
Before Ellen could argue further, Reed was out of the kitchen and halfway up the stairs.
“Is there a problem?” Monte asked, opening the refrigerator. He didn’t seem very concerned, but then he rarely worried about anything unless it directly affected his stomach. Ellen didn’t know how any one person could eat so much. He never seemed to gain weight, but if it were up to him he’d feed himself exclusively on pizza and french fries.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Ellen pressed Derek, feeling guilty but not quite knowing why. “I assumed your family owned the house.”
“Well...sort of.” He sank slowly into one of the kitchen chairs.
“It’s the sort of that worries me.” She pulled out the chair across from Derek and looked at him sternly.
“Reed is family.”
“But he didn’t know you were renting out the bedrooms?”
“He told me this job would last nine months to a year. I couldn’t see any harm in it. Everywhere I looked there were ads for students wanting rooms to rent. It didn’t seem right to live alone in this house with all these bedrooms.”
“Maybe I should try to find someplace else to live,” Ellen said reluctantly. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to see any other solution now that Reed had returned.
“Not before dinner,” Monte protested, bringing a loaf of bread and assorted sandwich makings to the table.
“There’s no need for anyone to leave,” Derek said with defiant bravado. “Reed will probably only be around for a couple of weeks before he goes away on another assignment.”
“Assignment?” Ellen asked, her curiosity piqued.
“Yeah. He travels all over the place—we hardly ever see him. And from what I hear, I don’t think Danielle likes him being gone so much, either.”
“Danielle?”
“They’ve been practically engaged for ages and... I don’t know the whole story, but apparently Reed’s put off tying the knot because he does so much traveling.”
“Danielle must really love him if she’s willing to wait.” Ellen watched as Monte spread several layers of smoked ham over the inch-thick slice of Swiss cheese. She knew better than to warn her housemate that he’d ruin his dinner. After his triple-decker sandwich, Monte could sit down to a five-course meal—and then ask about dessert.
“I guess,” Derek answered nonchalantly. “Reed’s perfect for her. You’d have to meet Danielle to understand.” Reaching into the teddy-bear-shaped cookie jar and helping himself to a handful, Derek continued. “Reed didn’t mean to snap at everyone. Usually, he’s a great brother. And Danielle’s all right,” he added without enthusiasm.
“It takes a special kind of woman to stick by a man that long without a commitment.”
Derek shrugged. “I suppose. Danielle’s got her own reasons, if you know what I mean.”
Ellen didn’t, but she let it go. “What does Reed do?”
“He’s an aeronautical engineer for Boeing. He travels around the world working on different projects. This last one was somewhere in Saudi Arabia.”
“What about the house?”
“Well, that’s his, an inheritance from his mother’s family, but he’s gone so much of the time that he asked me if I’d live here and look after the place.”
“What about us?” Monte asked. “Will big brother want us to move out?”
“I don’t think so. Tomorrow morning I’ll ask him. I can’t see me all alone in this huge old place. It’s not like I’m trying to make a fortune by collecting a lot of rent.”
“If Reed wants us to leave, I’m sure something can be arranged.” Already Ellen was considering different options. She didn’t want her fate to be determined by a whim of Derek’s brother.
“Let’s not do anything drastic. I doubt he’ll mind once he has a chance to think it through,” Derek murmured with a thoughtful frown. “At least, I hope he won’t.”
Later that night as Ellen slipped between the crisply laundered sheets, she wondered about the man whose bed she occupied. Tucking the thick quilt around her shoulders, she fought back a wave of anxiety. Everything had worked out so perfectly that she should’ve expected something to go wrong. If anyone voiced objections to her being in Reed’s house, it would probably be his almost-fiancée. Ellen sighed apprehensively. She had to admit that if the positions were reversed, she wouldn’t want the man she loved sharing his house with another woman. Tomorrow she’d check around to see if she could find a new place to live.
* * *
ELLEN WAS SCRAMBLING EGGS the next morning when Reed appeared, coming down the narrow stairs that led from the third floor to the kitchen. He’d shaved, which emphasized the chiseled look of his jaw. His handsome face was weathered and everything about him spoke of health and vitality. Ellen paused, her fork suspended with raw egg dripping from the tines. She wouldn’t call Reed Morgan handsome so much as striking. He had an unmistakable masculine appeal. Apparently the duties of an aeronautical engineer were more physically demanding than she’d suspected. Strength showed in the wide muscular shoulders and lean, hard build. He looked even more formidable this morning.
“Good morning,” she greeted him cheerfully, as she continued to beat the eggs. “I hope you slept well.”
Reed poured coffee into the same mug he’d used the day before. A creature of habit, Ellen mused. “Morning,” he responded somewhat gruffly.
“Can I fix you some eggs?”
“Derek and I have already talked. You can all stay.”
“Is that a yes or a no to the eggs?”
“I’m trying to tell you that you don’t need to worry about impressing me with your cooking.”
With a grunt of impatience, Ellen set the bowl aside and leaned forward, slapping her open palms on the countertop. “I’m scrambling eggs here. Whether you want some or not is entirely up to you. Believe me, if I was concerned about impressing you, I wouldn’t do it with eggs.”
For the first time, Ellen saw a hint of amusement touch those brilliant green eyes. “No, I don’t suppose you would.”
“Now that we’ve got that settled, would you like breakfast or not?”
“All right.”
His eyes boldly searched hers and for an instant Ellen found herself regretting that there was a Danielle. With an effort, she turned away and brought her concentration back to preparing breakfast.
“Do you do all the cooking?” Just the way he asked made it sound as though he was already criticizing their household arrangements. Ellen bit back a sarcastic reply and busied herself melting butter and putting bread in the toaster. She’d bide her time. If Derek was right, his brother would soon be away on another assignment.
“Most of it,” Ellen answered, pouring the eggs into the hot skillet.
“Who pays for the groceries?”
Ellen shrugged, hoping to give the appearance of nonchalance. “We all chip in.” She did the shopping and most of the cooking. In return, the boys did their share of the housework—now that she’d taught them how.
The bread popped up from the toaster and Ellen reached for the butter knife, doing her best to ignore the overpowering presence of Reed Morgan.
“What about the shopping?”
“I enjoy it,” she said simply, putting two more slices of bread in the toaster.
�
�I thought women all over America were fighting to get out of the kitchen.”
“When a replacement is found, I’ll be happy to step aside.” She wasn’t comfortable with the direction this conversation seemed to be taking. Reed was looking at her as though she was some kind of 1950s throwback.
Ellen liked to cook and as it turned out, the boys needed someone who knew her way around a kitchen, and she needed an inexpensive place to live. Everything had worked out perfectly....
She spooned the cooked eggs onto one plate and piled the toast on another, then carried it to the table, which gave her enough time to control her indignation. She was temporarily playing the role of surrogate mother to a bunch of college-age boys. All right, maybe that made her a little unusual these days, but she enjoyed living with Derek and the others. It helped her feel at home, and for now she needed that.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Reed stopped her on her way out of the kitchen.
“I’ll have something later. The only time I can count on the bathroom being free in the mornings is when the boys are having breakfast. That is, unless you were planning to use it?”
Reed’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “No.”
“What’s the matter? You’ve got that look on your face again.”
“What look?”
“The one where you pinch your lips together as if you aren’t pleased about something and you’re wondering just how much you should say.”
His tight expression relaxed into a slow, sensual grin. “Do you always read people this well?”
Ellen shook her head. “Not always. I just want to know what I’ve done this time.”
“Aren’t you concerned about living with three men?”
“No. Should I be?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb, almost enjoying their conversation. The earlier antagonism had disappeared. She’d agree that her living arrangements were a bit unconventional, but they suited her. The situation was advantageous for her and the boys.
“Any one of them could fall in love with you.”
With difficulty, Ellen restrained her laughter. “That’s unlikely. They see me as their mother.”
The corners of his mouth formed deep grooves as he tried—and failed—to suppress a grin. Raising one brow, he did a thorough inspection of her curves.
Hot color flooded her pale cheeks. “All right—a sister. I’m too old for them.”
Monte sauntered into the kitchen, followed closely by Pat who muttered, “I thought I smelled breakfast.”
“I was just about to call you,” she told them and hurried from the room, wanting to avoid a head-on collision with Reed. And that was where this conversation was going.
Fifteen minutes later, Ellen returned to the kitchen. She was dressed in cords and an Irish cable-knit sweater; soft dark curls framed her small oval face. Ellen had no illusions about her looks. Men on the street weren’t going to stop and stare, but she knew she was reasonably attractive. With her short, dark hair and deep brown eyes, she considered herself average. Ordinary. Far too ordinary for a man like Reed Morgan. One look at Ellen, and Danielle would feel completely reassured. Angry at the self-pitying thought, she grabbed a pen and tore out a sheet of notebook paper.
Intent on making the shopping list, Ellen was halfway into the kitchen before she noticed Reed standing at the sink, wiping the frying pan dry. The table had been cleared and the dishes were stacked on the counter, ready for the dishwasher.
“Oh,” she said, a little startled. “I would’ve done that.”
“While I’m here, I’ll do my share.” He said it without looking at her, his eyes avoiding hers.
“But this is your home. I certainly don’t mind—”
“I wouldn’t be comfortable otherwise. Haven’t you got a class this morning?” He sounded anxious to be rid of her.
“Not until eleven.”
“What’s your major?” He’d turned around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms. He was the picture of nonchalance, but Ellen wasn’t fooled. She knew very well that he wasn’t pleased about her living in his home, and she felt he’d given his permission reluctantly. She suspected he was even looking for ways to dislike her. Ellen understood that. Reed was bound to face some awkward questions once Danielle discovered there was a woman living in his house. Especially a woman who slept in his bed and took charge of his kitchen. But that would change this afternoon—at least the sleeping in his bed part.
“I’m majoring in education.”
“That’s the mother in you coming out again.”
Ellen hadn’t thought of it that way. Reed simply felt more comfortable seeing her in that light—as a maternal, even matronly figure—she decided. She’d let him, if it meant he’d be willing to accept her arrangement with Derek and the others.
“I suppose you’re right,” she murmured as she began opening and closing cupboard doors, checking the contents on each shelf, and scribbling down several items she’d need the following week.
“What are you doing now?”
Mentally, Ellen counted to ten before answering. She resented his overbearing tone, and despite her earlier resolve to humor him, she snapped, “I’m making a grocery list. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” he answered gruffly.
“I’ll be out of here in just a minute,” she said, trying hard to maintain her patience.
“You aren’t in my way.”
“And while we’re on the subject of being in someone’s way, I want you to know I plan to move my things out of your room this afternoon.”
“Don’t. I won’t be here long enough to make it worth your while.”
CHAPTER TWO
SO REED WAS LEAVING. Ellen felt guilty and relieved at the same time. Derek had told her Reed would probably be sent on another job soon, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite this soon.
“There’s a project Boeing is sending me on. California this time—the Monterey area.”
Resuming her task, Ellen added several more items to the grocery list. “I’ve heard that’s a lovely part of the state.”
“It is beautiful.” But his voice held no enthusiasm.
Ellen couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment for Reed. One look convinced her that he didn’t want to leave again. After all, he’d just returned from several months in the Middle East and already he had another assignment in California. If he was dreading this latest job, Ellen could well imagine how Danielle must feel.
“Nonetheless, I think it’s important to give you back your room. I’ll move my things this afternoon.” She’d ask the boys to help and it wouldn’t take long.
With his arms crossed, Reed lounged against the doorjamb, watching her.
“And if you feel that my being here is a problem,” she went on, thinking of Danielle, “I’ll look for another place. The only thing I ask is that you give me a couple of weeks to find something.”
He hesitated as though he was considering the offer, then shook his head, grinning slightly. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
“I don’t mind telling you I’m relieved to hear it, but I’m prepared to move if necessary.”
His left brow rose a fraction of an inch as the grin spread across his face. “Having you here does have certain advantages.”
“Such as?”
“You’re an excellent cook, the house hasn’t been this clean in months and Derek’s mother says you’re a good influence on these boys.”
Ellen had briefly met Mary Morgan, Derek’s mother, a few weeks before. “Thank you.”
He sauntered over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. “And for that matter, Derek’s right. This house is too big to sit empty. I’m often out of town, but there’s no reason others shouldn’t use it. Especiall
y with someone as...domestically inclined as you around to keep things running smoothly.”
So he viewed her as little more than a live-in housekeeper and cook! Ellen felt a flush of anger. Before she could say something she’d regret, she turned quickly and fled out the back door on her way to the local grocery store. Actually, Reed Morgan had interpreted the situation correctly, but it somehow bothered her that he saw her in such an unflattering light.
* * *
ELLEN DIDN’T SEE Reed again until late that night. Friday evenings were lazy ones for her. She’d dated Charlie Hanson, a fellow student, a couple of times but usually preferred the company of a good book. With her heavy class schedule, most of Ellen’s free time was devoted to her studies. Particularly algebra. This one class was getting her down. It didn’t matter how hard she hit the books, she couldn’t seem to grasp the theory.
Dressed in her housecoat and a pair of bright purple knee socks, she sat at the kitchen table, her legs propped on the chair across from her. Holding a paperback novel open with one hand, she dipped chocolate-chip cookies in a tall glass of milk with the other. At the unexpected sound of the back door opening, she looked curiously up from her book.
Reed seemed surprised to see her. He frowned as his eyes darted past her to the clock above the stove. “You’re up late.”
“On weekends my mommy doesn’t make me go to bed until midnight,” she said sarcastically, doing her best to ignore him. Reed managed to look fantastic without even trying. He didn’t need her gawking at him to tell him that. If his expensive sports jacket was anything to judge by, he’d spent the evening with Danielle.
“You’ve got that look,” he grumbled.
“What look?”
“The same one you said I have—wanting to say something and unsure if you should.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t very well deny it.
“And what did you want to tell me?”
“Only that you look good.” She paused, wondering how much she should say. “You even smell expensive.”
The Rain Sparrow Page 2