The Road To Love. Линда Гуднайт

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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.

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