Deep River Promise (Alaska Homecoming #2) - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,63

rippling over his face, and Damon’s chest tightened. He wanted Connor to trust him, he realized. Wanted it very much.

Careful…

Oh yeah, he knew. He couldn’t let himself get involved. He only had so much to give and no more. But surely this would be okay. Another couple of days to ease the kid’s mind about all the oil stuff wasn’t too much to ask. Rachel wouldn’t mind keeping her eye on his mom just a little longer. And his mom would be okay with it, surely.

The silence sat there, deepening around them.

Then Connor said abruptly, “Okay. It’s a deal.”

And apparently it was as simple as that.

The tight thing in Damon’s chest eased, a tension leaving him he hadn’t realized was there. He didn’t want to admit to being relieved, but he was.

Lifting his beer in Connor’s direction, he waited for Connor to lift his and then they clinked bottles in acknowledgment.

“So,” he said after they’d both had a swig to seal the deal, “do you want me to tell your mother the good news?”

Connor dug around in the fire again. “You can. She’ll probably believe you more.”

Damon was okay with that. Very okay with that.

“Good.” He took another sip of his beer. “Right. Do you want me to tell you some stories about your dad?”

Connor’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I do.”

Chapter 11

Astrid went home after Damon had taken Connor away for whatever man-to-man chat they were going to have, anger still fizzing inside her. That her anger wasn’t wholly to do with Connor and his ridiculous insistence on skipping school didn’t help.

She was aware enough to realize that a large part of it was due to spending the entire day trying not to think about Damon and what had happened in the library, and failing. Miserably.

She’d busied herself in her office, going over the ideas for tourist ventures that people had brought to her. She supposed she should be doing this with Damon, but there was no way in hell she was going to find him and talk to him now about it. Distance was better. She didn’t want to think about those moments in the library when he had touched her, kissed her, been inside her…

Unfortunately, it had been next to impossible not to think about those moments. About him. About his smile and the light in his blue eyes when he’d looked at her. How he’d made her feel wanted and precious and cared for…

Astrid growled, mentally shoving away those memories as she flung open her front door. She’d had vague plans of a soak in the tub with a glass of wine, or watching a couple of DVDs she’d borrowed from the collection in the market—streaming was almost impossible without a decent internet connection—but she didn’t feel like that now.

She ended up pacing around her living room, pausing every now and then to stare out the window at the little town below and the river rushing endlessly toward the ocean, trying to redirect her thoughts.

Connor coming to her and announcing his “decision” to skip school for the rest of the year had really been the last straw. And it hadn’t helped that he didn’t want to talk about Cal or about why she hadn’t told him that Cal was his father. He’d just insisted that the town was his responsibility and that he couldn’t trust Silas and Zeke, especially since Damon was leaving.

It was clear that Connor now viewed Damon as someone less suspicious than the other two, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. Damon wasn’t staying and she didn’t want Connor putting his trust in him or expectations on him for exactly that reason.

Her son’s faith in men had already been broken by Aiden and she didn’t think she could bear it if Damon broke it as well. She hadn’t wanted him to take Connor away and talk to him, be nice to him, earn the boy’s trust, only to have him go the next day. It just wouldn’t be fair.

Eventually, sick of her own introspection, she went into the little kitchen she’d painted a clean, restful white and poured herself a glass of wine, got the tourism folder, and sat down at the battered wooden kitchen table, trying to redirect her attention to Gwen’s eco-resort idea.

She was just finishing up her wine and running some numbers through her calculator when she heard the front door open then close, the sound of male voices echoing down the hallway. Her son’s lighter tone and