‘Seven!’
She turned towards him, not bothering to hide her surprise. As a child she’d desperately wanted to be part of a big family—mainly because she hadn’t always felt as if she belonged in her small one—and she could feel herself falling for a different version of the same fantasy now.
‘Wow, you’re so lucky. And do they all live in Iceland?’
‘Sometimes.’ A muscle ticked in his jaw.
‘So why did you choose to live out here miles from anyone?’
He shrugged. ‘Why does anyone choose to live anywhere?’
* * *
Ragnar let out an uneven breath. His chest felt as though a band of steel was wrapped around it, getting tighter and tighter.
He always found it stressful talking about his family, but here, now, with Lottie, and with that stupid conversation about giving themselves three weeks still ringing in his ears, he felt as though he might fly into a thousand pieces.
But it was ridiculous to feel that way. She was only asking him what any normal person would ask, so why was he reacting as if she was conducting an inquisition?
His shoulders tensed. He was making such a mess of this. Why didn’t he just tell her what he was thinking? Why didn’t he just say that he’d got it wrong? That, waking this morning—no, even before that, holding her last night—he’d felt something shift inside him, so that now he didn’t want her to disappear from his life at the end of three weeks.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he felt his knuckles bump into his phone and he felt the tension in his shoulders spread to his spine.
What was he supposed to do?
He only knew one way of managing his life, and that was to keep all the different parts separate—and up until now it had worked just fine. His family had nothing to do with his business, and his private life was private. But Lottie and Sóley would have to meet his family, and then what?
His brain felt as though it might explode. He didn’t know the answer to that. But it was impossible to see the hurt expression on Lottie’s face and not know that he was the reason for it. And he didn’t like how that made him feel. Or the fact that she’d had exactly the same expression when she’d been talking about her useless father.
She deserved to know the truth, or at least an edited version of the truth, but he couldn’t explain the messy, melodramatic dynamic of his family out here on this beautiful, tranquil day. And nor did he want to expose her to the mesmerising pull of their drama just yet. He knew what would happen if he did. Lottie and Sóley would be absorbed into the chaos and he couldn’t bear for that to happen.
Only he wanted to give her something.
He couldn’t change the past, or give her the father she deserved. But he could give her a part of himself he’d never shared with anyone else.
‘My mother’s family had a house not far from here. We used to come every holiday and one summer, when I was about eight, I met a boy about my age—Daniel. He was with his father, fishing in the lake over there.’
It had been the holiday before his parents had divorced—six m
onths before his father had found out about his mother’s affair—and the rows had been volcanic in their scope and ferocity, and seemingly endless in those long days of summer.
‘They taught me how to fish and I caught a salmon—my first.’ He grinned at the memory. ‘Then we went back to their house and cooked it. It was the best meal I’d ever eaten.’
And not just because of the freshness of the fish or the fact that he’d caught it. Daniel’s house had been small and simply decorated, but his parents had been so calm and patient, and it had been so relaxing he’d actually fallen asleep.
‘And that’s why you like coming here?’
She looked confused, and something in her soft brown gaze made him reach out and pull her against him. He could see how his words would make no sense to her, but there was no way to recreate his childish astonishment at discovering there was another way to be a family—a way without drama.
He couldn’t reveal how, sitting in that quiet, ordinary little house, he’d made up his mind to live his life in just such a way, and how living that kind life meant never giving in to the unnamed feeling in his chest.
Already he’d let her get too close—closer than he should. He’d felt her happiness and her pain as his own, and he couldn’t let that keep happening. He couldn’t risk being swamped by emotions he couldn’t handle and didn’t want to feel. He needed to keep his feelings under wraps and then everything would be fine.
And if that was what he had to do to keep Lottie and Sóley in his life then that was what he would do.
What other choice did he have?
CHAPTER EIGHT