“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 other two joined Derek. “You look like a movie star,” Pat breathed.
Monte closed his mouth and opened it again. “You’re pretty.”