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.
“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 patient 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