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

“Do you like Chinese food?”

“Love it.”

“Good. There’s enough for an army out in the kitchen. I ordered it earlier.”

Ellen didn’t need to be told that he’d made dinner plans with Danielle in mind. He’d expected to share an intimate evening with her. “Listen,” she began awkwardly, clasping her hands. “I really have to get going on this term paper. Why don’t you call Danielle and invite her back? Now that the kids are asleep, I’m sure everything will be better. I—”

“Children make Danielle nervous. She warned me about it, but I refused to listen. She’s home now and has probably taken some aspirin and gone to sleep. I can’t see letting good food go to waste. Besides, this gives me an opportunity to thank you.”

“Oh.” It was the longest speech that Reed had made. “All right,” she agreed with a slight nod.

While Reed warmed the food in the microwave, Ellen set out plates and forks and prepared a large pot of green tea, placing it in the middle of the table. The swinging door that connected the kitchen with the living room was left open in case either child woke.

“What do we need plates for?” Reed asked with a questioning arch of his brow.

“Plates are the customary eating device.”

“Not tonight.”

“Not tonight?” Something amusing glinted in Reed’s eyes as he set out several white boxes and brandished two pairs of chopsticks. “Since it’s only the two of us, we can eat right out of the boxes.”

“I’m not very adept with chopsticks.” The smell drifting from the open boxes was tangy and enticing.

“You’ll learn if you’re hungry.”

“I’m famished.”

“Good.” Deftly he took the first pair of chopsticks and showed her how to work them with her thumb and index finger.

Imitating his movements Ellen discovered that her fingers weren’t nearly as agile as his. Two or three tries at picking up small pieces of spicy diced chicken succeeded only in frustrating her.

“Here.” Reed fed her a bite from the end of his chopsticks. “Be a little more patient with yourself.”

“That’s easy for you to say while you’re eating your fill and I’m starving to death.”

“It’ll come.”

Ellen grumbled under her breath, but a few tries later she managed to deliver a portion of the hot food to her eager mouth.

“See, I told you you’d pick this up fast enough.”

“Do you always tell someone ‘I told you so’?” she asked with pretended annoyance. The mood was too congenial for any real discontent. Ellen felt that they’d shared a special time together looking after the two small children. More than special—astonishing. They hadn’t clashed once or found a single thing to squabble over.

“I enjoy teasing you. Your eyes have an irresistible way of lighting up when you’re angry.”

“If you continue to insist that I eat with these absurd pieces of wood, you’ll see my eyes brighten the entire room.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” he murmured with a laugh. “No forks. You can’t properly enjoy Chinese food unless you use chopsticks.”

“I can’t properly taste it without a fork.”

“Here, I’ll feed you.” Again he brought a spicy morsel to her mouth.

A drop of the sauce fell onto her chin and Ellen wiped it off. “You aren’t any better at this than me.” She dipped the chopsticks into the chicken mixture and attempted to transport a tidbit to Reed’s mouth. It balanced precariously on the end of her chopsticks, and Reed lowered his mouth to catch it before it could land in his lap.

“You’re improving,” he told her, his voice low and slightly husky.

Their eyes met. Unable to face the caressing look in his warm gaze, Ellen bent her head and pretended to be engrossed in her dinner. But her appetite was instantly gone—vanished.

A tense silence filled the room. The air between them was so charged that she felt breathless and weak, as though she’d lost the energy to move or speak. Ellen didn’t dare raise her eyes for fear of what she’d see in his.

“Ellen.”

She took a deep breath and scrambled to her feet. “I think I hear Jimmy,” she whispered.

“Maybe it was Jenny,” Reed added hurriedly.

Ellen paused in the doorway between the two rooms. They were both overwhelmingly aware that neither child had made a sound. “I guess they’re still asleep.”

“That’s good.” The scraping sound of his chair against the floor told her that Reed, too, had risen from the table. When she turned, she found him depositing the leftovers in the refrigerator. His preoccupation with the task gave her a moment to reflect on what had just happened. There were too many problems involved in pursuing this attraction; the best thing was to ignore it and hope the craziness passed. They were mature adults, not adolescents, and besides, this would complicate her life, which was something she didn’t need right now. Neither, she was sure, did he. Especially with Danielle in the picture...

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to head upstairs,” she began awkwardly, taking a step in retreat.

“Okay, then. And thanks. I appreciated the help.”

“I appreciated the dinner,” she returned.

“See you in the morning.”

“Right.” Neither seemed eager to bring the evening to an end.

“Good night, Ellen.”

“Night, Reed. Call if you need me.”

“I will.”

Turning decisively, she took the stairs and was panting by the time she’d climbed up the second narrow flight. Since the third floor had originally been built to accommodate servants, the five bedrooms were small and opened onto a large central room, which was where Ellen had placed her bed. She’d chosen the largest of the bedrooms as her study.

She sat resolutely down at her desk and leafed through several books, hoping to come across an idea she could use for her term paper. But her thoughts were dominated by the man two floors below. Clutching a study on the origins of algebra to her chest, she sighed deeply and wondered whether Danielle truly valued Reed. She must, Ellen decided, or she wouldn’t be so willing to sit at home waiting, while her fiancé traipsed around the world directing a variety of projects.

Reed had been so patient and good-natured with Jimmy and Jenny. When the little boy had climbed into his lap, Reed had read to him and held him with a tenderness that stirred her heart. And Reed was generous to a fault. Another man might have told Pat, Monte and Ellen to pack their bags. This was his home, after all, and Derek had been wrong to rent out the rooms without Reed’s knowledge. But Reed had let them stay.

Disgruntled with the trend her thoughts were taking, Ellen forced her mind back to the books in front of her. But it wasn’t long before her concentration started to drift again. Reed had Danielle, and she had... Charlie Hanson. First thing in the morning, she’d call dependable old Charlie and suggest they get together; he’d probably be as surprised as he was pleased to hear from her. Feeling relieved and a little light-headed, Ellen turned off the light and went to bed.

* * *

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Reed arrived in the kitchen early the next afternoon, looking as though he’d just finished eighteen holes of golf or a vigorous game of tennis. He’d already left by the time she’d wandered down to the kitchen that morning.