Deep River Promise, Jackie Ashenden [large ebook reader .TXT] 📗

of a lot in general, and not just as bed partners. He liked the way they thought, the way they talked, their opinions and their feelings. Everything about them had always been endlessly fascinating to him, and they were pretty much his favorite people to be around.

Hope, owner of the Moose and Silas’s girlfriend, had proved to be just the kind of woman he particularly liked: strong and snarky and took no bullshit. Giving back as good as she got. And he had to say, if he had a woman like Hope in his bed, he certainly wouldn’t be downstairs at this ungodly hour looking for coffee.

But since he didn’t, he’d have to find caffeine on his own.

Damon moved through the empty bar to the exit and pushed open the door, stepping out onto the boardwalk that ran in front of the little collection of buildings.

The morning sun felt like a benediction after all the rain, and the whole town shone and sparkled like it had just been newly washed. A sharp breeze that carried with it the last remains of winter helped with some of the cobwebs in his head, but for the rest, nothing but coffee would do.

Next door to the Moose was Deep River’s general store. It was the only building that had a freshly painted sign, the name Mal’s Market painted a bright and glaring pink. Beside the market was the tiny tourist information center, where the big Nowhere pole stood. The kid and the woman had long gone, but Sandy Maclean, who ran the center, had put out her postcard stands, the breeze ruffling the edges of the cards.

There was a hotel—the Gold Pan—next to the tourist center. It was just as ramshackle as all the other buildings, though some attempt at brightening the frontage had been made with a few flower baskets hanging from the awning overhead, along with a giant replica gold pan tacked to the wall beside the door.

Last in line was April’s, the diner. It had big windows that gave a great view out over the boardwalk and the river and was famous for serving coffee so strong it took the lining of your throat out.

Given the epic level of Damon’s headache, strong coffee was exactly what he needed, so that’s where he headed.

There were only a few people in April’s when he walked in; most of her usual customers—fishermen on their way to their trawlers—would have had their breakfasts a couple of hours earlier.

April was behind the counter—a small, elderly woman in a pink nineteen-fifties-style waitress uniform—and she gave Damon a big smile in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Handsome. A cup of your usual?”

Damon grinned.

His mother was from Texas and despite spending a good deal of her life in LA, she’d always been a great believer in a few old-fashioned values. She’d brought Damon up to believe the same, and so far he’d seen no reason to change that belief.

His mom’s rules were simple: Be polite to the elderly. Don’t cuss in front of women and kids. Never mistreat an animal. There had been times in his life when he hadn’t exactly obeyed those rules, but he’d at least never mistreated an animal.

April had been suspicious of him initially, the way most Deep River folks had been, but over the past couple of days, Damon had worn her down with a combination of politeness, old-fashioned charm, and the ability to listen.

It helped that she clearly enjoyed a bit of flirting too.

“Morning, April,” he said. “You look particularly fetching today.”

“You’re a charmer, mister.” She flicked the dishcloth she was holding at him playfully, flushing with pleasure. It suited her, making her eyes look even bluer and bringing a youthful glow to her lined face. “And if you’re wanting a free donut, then you’re going the right way about it.”

Damon was good with people, and it was a skill that had come in useful during his army days. He and Cal had been the ones who’d talked to the locals, reassuring them, making friends, and earning their trust. Mainly because Silas wasn’t an effusive type and Zeke made Silas look like a motormouth.

However, though Damon had managed to win April over, her son, Jack, was another story.

Jack gave him a narrow stare from the kitchen area behind April.

Damon couldn’t blame him; he respected a man who looked out for his mother.

He gave Jack a nod, then turned his attention back to April, because for all that Jack was protective of his mother, his mother also wasn’t stupid. In fact, Damon wouldn’t have been at all surprised if April had been an accomplished flirt back in the day, because it was a game she clearly knew and enjoyed.

“Perfect,” Damon said. “Because you know if there’s a donut in there, I’ll be your slave for life.”

April’s blue eyes danced. “There’s a name for men like you, you know.”

He grinned. “And what’s that?”

“A tease.”

“And you love it.”

“Oh, if I was thirty years younger…”

Damon leaned his hip against the counter. “Surely it must only be five.”

“Right, that’s it.” She turned her head. “Two donuts please, Jack.”

Behind her, Jack’s suspicious gaze became even narrower. He lifted a couple of donuts out of the fryer, put them in a paper bag, and came over to the counter, dumping the bag down without a word.

April gave him a disapproving glance. “Manners, Jack.”

“Not a problem,” Damon said easily, heading this one off at the pass. “He’s just looking out for you.”

“Is that so, hmm?” April’s disapproving stare became slightly less disapproving.

Her son merely looked annoyed. “Don’t want you getting taken advantage of.”

April rolled her eyes. “I’m seventy-five, Jack. And if a handsome young man wants to humor an old lady, then I’m not going to stop him, okay?”

“I’m not humoring you,” Damon felt compelled to point out. “You’re an interesting woman.”

“There, you see?” April raised her brows at her son. “How am I supposed to resist that?”

Jack shook his head and went back to the kitchen area without