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friend wanted him to stay, that much was obvious. Yet Silas wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, thank God.

Astrid fussed around with the open folder in front of her. “Perhaps we need to discuss a few of the less
conventional ideas?”

“Yes, let’s discuss it,” he said, ignoring the speculative gleam in Silas’s gaze. “Debbie’s very insistent about Carl’s beer coaster collection.”

Silas snorted and the conversation moved on.

The plan was to get a short list divided into long-term goals and then short-term plans the town could implement immediately without too much drama. Then there would be a town vote—apparently Mal put up a ballot box in the market and people came in with a ballot paper. It was all very twentieth-century.

Damon pointed out some of the financial issues with the ventures people had put forward, then outlined a few solutions. And after the bulk of the discussion had been had, he asked, “What will you do with people unhappy their idea wasn’t chosen?”

Astrid was fiddling around with their provisional short list. “Oh, they’ll have a vent and try to argue. But everyone abides by the vote.”

“Apart from Mike,” Silas added. “But his luxury motel idea could be a good one if it was done right.”

“It could,” Damon said, reflecting on it. “Could even tie in with Gwen’s eco-lodge idea too.”

They kicked around some more ideas after that and made some adjustments to the short list, then Hope came in with a couple of bags of treats from April’s, along with some strong coffees. She had a couple of her own opinions about the shortlist and made sure they were noted.

Damon ended up in a good-natured argument with her which both of them enjoyed thoroughly, and that involved rejigging the short list yet again, much to Astrid’s irritation. Then Hope mentioned that Clare at the B&B had had a call from some stranger interested in buying her out, which Clare had naturally refused. But it was a reminder of what they were trying to do and what they were up against.

“They’re not going to stop, are they?” Astrid’s expression was grim. “They’re going to keep calling, keep bugging us until someone gives in.”

Damon almost reached across the table to take her hand and hold it in his as a reassurance, because he didn’t like the expression on her face. Her little safe haven for herself and her son was being threatened, so she was bound to find that worrying.

But he couldn’t touch her without giving away their affair and he didn’t want to start any gossip or make things difficult for her. So he kept his hands to himself.

Yet he was surprised at the anger burning inside him. On her behalf and Connor’s and, surprisingly, for the inhabitants of Deep River too. Anger at the oil company and what they were doing and what they thought they could get away with.

More feelings he shouldn’t be having. What the hell was wrong with him?

You should stay. Help them fight. Cal wanted you to look after Connor, after all.

No, he’d already made the decision that he couldn’t. Besides, Astrid and Connor weren’t alone. They had Silas and Zeke and Mal and Hope. And everyone else in the town.

“Have we finished?” he asked, restless all of a sudden.

“Why?” Silas asked in surprise. “Somewhere you need to be?”

What could he say? That the thoughts in his head were driving him crazy and he needed to get out, get some air? Yeah, not so much.

“I have to get my stuff ready,” he said shortly. “I’ll be heading out tomorrow. Anyway, we have a short list now and Astrid will get a town meeting on the schedule. Is there anything else?”

“No, probably not.” Silas glanced at Hope. “You want me to go talk to Clare? Get some idea about what they’re offering her?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” She pushed herself away from the counter where she’d been standing. “I’ll come with you.”

After the two of them had gone, Astrid, who was still sitting at the table, raised a brow. “You think they did that on purpose?”

“What? Leave us alone together?” He grinned. “Possibly. Though Silas’s already warned me off you.”

“Really?” She didn’t look pleased with the idea as she started to gather the papers back into her folder. “Why am I his business? It’s got nothing to do with him.”

“No, but it not being his business has never stopped Silas.”

“True.” Astrid rose, clutching her folder. She gave him a glance from beneath her golden lashes. “Since you’re leaving tomorrow and your room’s just up the stairs, I wondered if you wanted to
say goodbye properly.”

The look she gave him would have set fire to a stone and he wouldn’t have been a man if he hadn’t gotten instantly hard.

There was no reason not to.

They hadn’t had a chance to talk to each other since last night and he’d been assuming that, again, the night had been a one-off. Another of the those rare moments to hold on to, to take with him when he left, and he’d thought Astrid felt the same.

Except it was clear that she didn’t.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He didn’t know why he was asking her when he very much wanted to take her up on the offer. “It’s broad daylight. People might notice us disappearing into my room together.”

“No, they won’t.” Her mouth curved in a sensual, sweet smile. “There’s no one else staying in the Moose, and no one’s going to notice us leaving Hope and Silas’s place.”

He wanted to, and very badly. And he didn’t understand where his reluctance was coming from


No, he did know. Last night he’d held her in his arms and she’d looked at him with stars in her eyes, and those same stars were in her eyes now, bright and glittering.

She felt something for him.

It had happened so fast, him and the pretty mayor. Too fast. And now they’d gone beyond one pleasant moment, and ‘pleasant’ had become something more, something deeper.

It couldn’t.

“Astrid,”

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