The Road To Love: Love by Degree / The Rain Sparrow

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 duffel 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 third.

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.”