Just One Night Together by Deborah Cooke

Eight

Damon fell asleep.

He never fell asleep anywhere except in his own bed with the door locked and his routines completed. He was never lax about discipline and he never napped in other locations.

But he fell asleep in Haley’s bed. He was aware of the cat watching him, sitting on the end of the kitchen counter with his tail lashing. Damon thought he’d just close his eyes for a moment, just to catch his breath after another amazing orgasm.

And then he was back in Afghanistan, in that dusty village.

He was watching the grenade roll toward them in slow motion, knowing the kid had compromised them, knowing that his adherence to the rules was going to cost them big. It seemed he had a thousand years to realize all the repercussions of this small projectile, yet he moved so slowly. His body wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t get himself between Foster and the grenade, even though he struggled to throw himself forward.

And the sound. The sound filled his ears to bursting. The sound was louder than anything he’d ever heard before, ripping through him, destroying, annihilating, shredding...until Buchanan moaned.

Foster didn’t move again.

Damon awakened with a jolt,sitting up in the bed and wondering where the hell he was. He was panting and there was sweat trickling down his back, panic making his heart race. He wanted to run, to hide, to get the hell out.

He was on his feet, grabbing his jeans by the time Haley awakened and sat up.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, hearing the terror in his voice. He could have hurt her. He could have lashed out, unaware of what he was doing. He’d breached his own protocol and she could have paid the price.

He had to go home, where it was safe.

Where the world was safe from him.

He tugged on his clothes, well aware that Haley was watching him without getting out of bed. She probably was horrified. She probably thought there was something wrong with him.

There was.

“You didn’t just serve,” she said with that quiet conviction he found so unnerving. “You have PTSD.”

And just like that, the secret Damon struggled to hide was out in the open. He felt exposed and vulnerable, which didn’t exactly help in his current situation.

He had to get out.

Immediately.

* * *

Damon was ex-military,and he had PTSD. Haley felt stupid for not seeing the truth sooner, even though that was hardly her area of expertise.

She just believed she should understand everyone’s issues.

And preferably fix them.

She saw the panic in Damon’s eyes when she made her guess and knew enough about the condition that she understood he’d want to flee.

Nightmares, flashbacks or bad dreams.

Heightened fight-or-flight response.

Emotional detachment.

The list of symptoms unfurled in her mind and she easily identified the ones she’d noticed in his behavior.

“It’s not your concern,” he snapped, grabbing his T-shirt.

Haley moved quickly. She was on her feet and leaning against the door to the corridor by the time Damon turned. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she saw in his eyes that he wasn’t as confident in that. “It is my concern, because you’re here in my apartment.”

“That won’t happen again.”

“It might not. What is going to happen is that we’re going to talk about this.”

“Not on your life.”

“It’s not my life that’s at stake,” Haley replied calmly. “It’s yours.”

He grimaced and looked away, one hand tightening into a fist. “You don’t understand.”

“Not completely, no. That doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

“It does!” His eyes flashed.

“Didn’t you have treatment?”

“It was a long time ago.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “I have a system. I have a routine. They taught me that and it works.”

“Until you’re stressed,” Haley guessed. “Then the symptoms get worse again.”

“I have a system,” he said, grinding out the words. If sheer willpower could heal him, it would have done so already. Haley was in awe of his discipline. “I’m not going to talk about this. I’m going to get through it.”

“You need to talk about it, if not to me then to one of your partners, or a therapist. That’s the only way you will get through it.”

“You don’t know what’s best for me,” he said with hostility that she knew wasn’t really directed at her. “You can’t fix me, Haley.”

“No, you’d have to fix yourself, and that means asking for help. I’m going to guess that you don’t like asking for help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Because everything’s going so well?” She shook her head. “We all need help sometimes, Damon. No one can do it all alone.”

He took a deep breath, surveyed the apartment as if he’d find the words there somewhere, glared at the cat, then met her gaze again.

“You did ask to come here,” she pointed out.

He glowered at her. “I owed you a thank-you.”

Haley thought she’d try to make him smile. “If you thanked everybody with orgasms like that, you’d have a lot more friends.”

Damon didn’t laugh, though. In fact, he looked more grim than before. “It’s not going to happen again.” He bent to haul on his boots.

“So, you don’t want me to visit your mom when you can’t?”

He half-turned, his expression wary, and Haley knew he was torn. “That’s not what I said.”

“If I do, will you say thanks again?”

Damon’s jaw tightened and she thought of volcanoes on the verge of explosion. His control was amazing. His eyes blazed, then he composed himself again. “No. This was the last time. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“I’m glad you did.”

She got a simmering look for that.

“You can’t fix me, Haley. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t promise anything I can’t deliver.”

Haley shook her head. “Well, I’d like to live in that world,” she said. “Imagine, being able to control every little thing. Imagine being in command of all the details, of being able to decide what happened next.” She raised her hands. “Who lived. Who died. Who got cancer. Who won the lottery. That would be some kind of power.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you. I’m pointing out the flaw in your logic. You can’t control every detail. You’re not God. You can’t know that you can keep every single promise you make. You can only try.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“There’s a big one. Because if you believe you’re in complete control and something bigger than all of us makes you wrong, where does that leave you?” She didn’t think she had to mention his mom’s illness.

Damon looked so suddenly broken that Haley’s compassion surged to new strength. “Right where I am, in case you haven’t guessed,” he admitted under his breath.

“You couldn’t keep one promise,” she guessed in a whisper. “So you won’t make any more.”

“I let someone down. I won’t do that ever again.” He shook his head and turned away from her. He picked up his jacket, without ever looking back at her.

“But what happens when you need someone, Damon?”

He gave her a hot look. “I never need anyone.”

“You will soon.” She could have said he needed someone already, but she knew he’d argue that.

“No.” He shook his head, emphatic in clinging to his conclusions. Haley admired his resolve. “No. I will not withdraw what I can’t repay.”

“You’re underestimating yourself. Your partners would have your back if you trusted them with the truth.”

“Are you done?” he demanded, his tone sharper. “This was sex, Haley, not therapy. I’m sorry I had a nightmare but that doesn’t make me your next project. You have no right to examine my choices and pester me to make different ones.”

“Because I was just a fuck,” she said, her voice hard, and watched him flinch.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It must be what you mean.”

“No, it isn’t...” He fell silent, then eyed her for a moment. “What happened with Garrett?” he asked instead. “What did he do?”

The question caught Haley by surprise but she gave him one of his own answers. “It’s not your concern.”

“You’re right,” he said quietly. He swore under his breath, pivoted, and left her apartment.

Haley swore a little more loudly, locked the deadbolt behind him so that the sound would echo down the corridor, then folded her arms across her chest.

Had there ever been anyone she’d wanted to shake more than Damon?

The cat considered her from his perch on the counter.

“Maybe I should call you Damon,” she said to him and he jumped down elegantly, coming to twine around her ankles. He meowed and looked up at her, obviously hungry. “Except you have a lot more charm,” she acknowledged. “Especially when you want fish.”

Maybe she didn’t have anything left that Damon wanted enough to turn on his charm. Haley winced and headed for the kitchen to open a can of tuna for the cat.

* * *

It had snowed moreduring the night. There was about six inches of the white stuff on the ground and more falling. Damon zipped up his jacket and marched back to the house, knowing that the exercise would calm his mind.

It always did.

Exercise was one of the keys to his plan. Regular exercise. Healthy eating. Small, achievable goals. One step at a time. Lots of rest. It was all about routine, about controlling the little things so the big ones didn’t overwhelm.

That was how he’d ended up at the gym where he’d met Kyle.

Despite the vestiges of his nightmare, he was thinking about Haley’s words. She hadn’t been angry with him or accusatory. Her tone had been direct but not emotional. She challenged him and she wasn’t afraid of him, and the combination meant that he couldn’t dismiss what she’d said.

The nightmares had returned since his mom had become sick. He’d been without them for years and that made them seem worse. They were pretty much the same, though. And he guessed that it was powerlessness that brought them on, a lack of control, that sense of inevitability and his own impotence in the face of events.

Like that rolling grenade.

He’d never forget it.

He’d never forget that he’d been the one to remind Foster about R.O.E.

Buchanan had lost a hand.

Foster had died.

Not only was he responsible, but he was unscathed.

More or less.

It seemed wrong. He should have been the one to die or be maimed. He should have been the one to pay the price for following the rules.

The therapist had called it survivor’s guilt.

Damon trudged across the park, moving quickly. He had three private sessions in the weight room this morning, back to back, and knew he had to compose himself. Even though he hadn’t had much sleep, he had to make sure those clients got what they paid for. He was responsible. He fulfilled his obligations to F5F. That wasn’t going to change. He exhaled, doing the breathing exercises he’d been taught as a means of calming himself, and tried to focus.

He might have managed it if his phone hadn’t rung.

Instead he stood in the middle of the empty park, the snow falling silently around him, as the nurse in the oncology ward told him that his mom was gone.

Then he bowed his head and wept silently, feeling more alone than he ever had.

* * *

“Hello to thoseof you at the North Pole, or its closest equivalent,” Kyle said, his cheerful voice coming from the speakerphone.

“Let me guess,” Cassie said as she slid into her seat. “It’s sunny and warm in San Francisco.” A foot of snow had fallen in Manhattan over the weekend and the city was a mess. There had been power outages and transit delays, although things were returning to normal.

“Beautiful,” Kyle enthused. “Not too hot. Crisp wind off the ocean.” He paused. “No snow.”

“Go ahead,” Cassie said. “Rub it in.”

“I hate that stuff,” Kyle said. “Give me fog or even rain any day over the white junk.”

“Doesn’t the cool temperature cut into your surfing?” Cassie asked as Damon entered the conference room.

“Northern California is why God made wetsuits, Cassie.”

“He’s just frisky because he went surfing today,” Theo said, also on the speakerphone. “Kyle here thinks he’s becoming a Navy SEAL.”

Damon snorted. “I don’t think so,” he muttered under his breath, but the guys in California obviously didn’t hear him. He pulled out a pad of paper and tapped his pen on it. “Are we having a meeting or what?”

What was his deal? Cassie knew that Damon’s expression was more inscrutable than usual and it wasn’t like him to be grumpy. When did she last see him crack a smile? It had been too long. Was he that annoyed that Ty had made him work the previous Friday night? He’d certainly been in a mood since the weekend. Cassie had been relieved to have a Friday night to herself but was torn between feeling that Damon should have taken his turn sooner and her sense that something was wrong.

“Hey, has that tattoo done its magic yet?” Kyle demanded.

“Not so much as a nibble,” Cassie had to admit.

“Early days yet,” Kyle said, his tone encouraging. “It’ll happen.”

Cassie wasn’t so sure.

Ty came striding into the meeting, looking as delicious as ever. Cassie did love a man in a suit. She’d been crazy for this one for a long, long time, but Ty was off-limits now. Was that the problem? She’d already found the love of her life but he’d married someone else?

“Sorry to be late,” Ty said, taking his place and opening his briefcase. “Do we have an agenda?”

“Not officially,” Cassie said and he smiled at her. Her stupid heart went thump but she kept her expression bland.

“No problem. I’d like to talk about adding to the team,” Ty said. “We’re really stretched thin and Cassie’s done too many night shifts. I’m going to suggest that we hire one or maybe two people to manage the dance club.”

“You’re delegating my baby!” Kyle complained.

“Only after you abandoned it,” Cassie countered.

“And of course, Damon isn’t going to give up his Friday nights with Natasha,” Kyle said.

Damon frowned but didn’t reply.

“He did last Friday,” Cassie contributed.

“Only with encouragement,” Ty added.

“And what did Natasha think of that?” Kyle asked brightly. “Has she pined away from neglect after surviving one Friday night without your loving touch?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Damon growled, biting off each word.

Cassie exchanged a glance with Ty. That was the closest she’d ever heard Damon come to losing his temper.

“Excuse me?” Kyle said. “Are you getting hostile with me, bro?”

“I’m telling you to mind your own business,” Damon snapped. He stood up and marched out of the room. “Decide whatever you want,” he said from the doorway. “I’m gone.”

“Whoa!” Ty said, lifting his hands.

“What was that?” Kyle and Theo demanded in unison.

“The sound of you pushing your luck a little too far,” Ty said and started to stand up.

“Me?” Kyle protested. “I was just razzing him a bit...”

“Let me,” Cassie said, touching Ty’s shoulder so he stayed put while she went after Damon.

“Good idea,” Ty murmured with a nod. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”

So, she wasn’t alone in thinking that there was something wrong. Cassie wasn’t going to make any conclusions about her and Ty thinking the same way. He was married.

She found Damon at his locker, jamming things into his messenger bag—all of his things, as if he had no intention of coming back.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, leaning in the doorway to block it.

“No.”

“You want to tell me about it?”

“No.”

“You don’t think that after ten years of partnership, we maybe deserve an explanation?”

Damon bowed his head for a moment. Cassie could almost feel the war within him and she wondered what it was about.

Then he closed his locker with his usual care and turned to face her, his features composed again. His eyes, though, his eyes were haunted. “Natasha is not my girlfriend. She’s my mother and she was diagnosed with cancer. I spent every Friday night with her.”

“Oh, Damon, I’m so sorry. You should have told us...”

He lifted a hand to silence her. “It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s dead.”

Cassie was so shocked that it took her a few moments to find the words. How could he have been going through this without telling them? Without even mentioning it? She didn’t think the others knew either. She cringed inside as she recalled Kyle teasing him. “What can we do to help?”

“Nothing. It’s over.” Damon took a deep breath and she watched him stand a little straighter than he had before. “I can work the nights at the club now, or if you’d all rather, I can leave the partnership. Just let me know what you decide.”

He would have stepped past her but Cassie didn’t move. “You can’t just leave. We’re partners.”

Damon’s gaze flicked to hers. “Fine. Give me a schedule and a list of your expectations. I’ll fulfill them all.” He gave her a dark look and she moved out of the doorway, feeling helpless as she watched him stride away.

“When’s the funeral, Damon?” she called after him, thinking that attending it was one thing they could all do for him.

“There isn’t going to be one,” he said without turning back, and Cassie was shocked to silence again.

She felt Ty come to stand behind her. “So?”

“Natasha was his mom. She just died of cancer.”

“What?” Ty demanded. “He never told us?”

“She’s been in the hospital. He went there Friday nights to visit her. His mom is Natasha.”

Ty swore and shoved a hand through his hair. “Why wouldn’t he tell us?”

Cassie turned to Ty. “He’s not going to have a funeral either. What can we do?”

Ty frowned, his gaze trailing after Damon. He was thoughtful and concerned, and Cassie waited for his conclusion. “Nothing, I guess,” he said finally. “Especially if that’s what he wants.”

“It feels wrong.” She glanced after Damon, but he was gone.

“It is wrong, but pushing ourselves on Damon will only backfire. Maybe that was what his mom wanted.” He looked down at Cassie and she saw that they were both equally shocked.

“He said it was up to us if he remained a partner.”

“Of course, he’s remaining a partner.” Ty was impatient with the possibility of Damon leaving F5F. “Privacy is one thing, but this partnership is another. He’s just dealing with a lot and not thinking straight.”

“I think so, too. He looked devastated, Ty.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” He didn’t wait for an answer but Cassie nodded. “Actually, this gives me a good reason to call him later. Let’s decide about hiring Hunter or someone else, and work on the details for Chynna’s start.”

“I did some mock-ups for a Valentine’s Day launch,” Cassie offered. “It’s on a Wednesday this year, which isn’t perfect, but I thought we might open the dance club that night for a special event.” She sighed. “Kyle said it’s the tattoos she does on the full moon that have the love magic, but unfortunately there isn’t a full moon in February at all this year.”

“Kyle and Theo are still on the line. Let’s make some plans.” Ty gestured and Cassie headed back to the conference room, noting that both of them glanced to the foyer with concern for Damon.

“He needs us to need him,” she whispered.

Ty nodded. “We do. I’m afraid the tough part is going to be convincing him of that.”

* * *

Haley stoodin front of the house where she knew Damon lived, gathering her nerve. She’d waited until Wednesday and her day off but she couldn’t stand it anymore. The nurses in oncology had told her about Natasha’s passing. She’d had a good cry and sent some more prayers after Damon’s mom. She’d hoped Damon might call her, but he hadn’t. She had a feeling that he would close himself off from the world, which was just about the worst possible choice.

He could be having nightmares.

He could be experiencing his PTSD in full glory again.

He was alone and he shouldn’t be.

Even though she expected him to be hostile, she had to try to help. She stepped up and rang the doorbell. It echoed through the house, but there was no other sound. No footsteps inside. The curtains didn’t move and no one looked out. She couldn’t see any lights on.

Of course, with his military training, Damon would be able to be more still and more quiet than normal humans. Would he have to come out for food? For all she knew, he had enough rations in the cellar to survive Armageddon. Would he leave the house to go to work? He did seem to be committed to F5F.

Maybe he was staying downtown at the club.

The nurses had told her that there wasn’t going to be a funeral for Natasha. Haley thought that was a really bad sign of Damon’s emotional state. It was impossible to ignore the fact that his mom was gone, and she wasn’t going to let him try.

She expected a fight and she was ready for one.

It was funny but just a few short weeks ago, she would have left him to his misery, knowing that he didn’t want her interference. It turned out that taking a chance or two had given Haley the need to speak up, and to be more active about facilitating change.

Even if it meant offering help where help wasn’t wanted.

She rang the bell again.

Nothing.

She went around the back of the house and knocked on the kitchen door. There was no curtain on the window in this door, and she could see that the kitchen was meticulously clean.

As if no one lived there at all.

Or as if Damon did.

Haley went back to the front door to ring the bell one last time, only to find Damon striding down the walkway to the house. He was frowning at the pavement, looking as if he was in bad mood, and he stopped cold when he saw her. There was a flicker in his eyes, but she didn’t have time to decide if it was annoyance or relief before it disappeared and he was impossible to read again.

“Lost?” he asked. His tone was less than welcoming and she figured resistance was starting immediately.

“You got a ride with Joe from the hospital one night. He told me where you lived.”

“Spy network?”

“He likes to tease me. I didn’t intend to ever come here.”

“But you did.” Damon didn’t move past her, didn’t unlock the door, didn’t take any chance of her coming inside. He stood eight feet away from her, his expression wary, and she wondered if he was afraid to come closer. “What did I say to change your mind?”

“Nothing. It was what you did.” She took two steps forward and saw him inhale.

Ha. Haley understood that she had power in this transaction, that he was worried about losing control if she touched him. He must be close to letting it slip.

So, she would touch him. Haley was sure that she had to break Damon’s composure to make a difference.

“What did I do?”

“You thanked me so very well that I can’t forget it.”

He frowned again. “Haley...”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” she said, interrupting him. “She was a nice lady.” When he didn’t reply to that, she offered her hand, as if to shake hands. “I came to give you my condolences.”

“You must have come for more than that,” he accused, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little. “Nothing is ever that simple with you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

The smile almost broke free, then he shook his head and heaved a sigh. “It’s an interesting thing,” he admitted with caution.

Haley would take interesting over the other possibilities. “Why?”

“Because you’re fearless. You think you can poke and prod me without repercussions, like I’m a great big teddy bear, but you’re wrong, Haley. You don’t want to provoke me. I don’t want you to provoke me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you. You saw the other night...”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Haley lifted her chin. “You have the strongest moral compass of anyone I’ve ever known. I’m not afraid of you, Damon.”

“Maybe you should be.” He made to step past her.

“Because you’re determined to protect me from yourself?”

He stiffened but continued to the door without looking back. “It was great, Haley, but don’t make more of it than it was.”

“I thought it was romantic.”

“Check your definitions again.”

“I don’t have to. Making sure your partner is pleased is romantic. Period.”

He gave her one of those simmering looks and stepped past her.

“Even if it’s just sex.”

Damon paused then continued toward the front door.

Haley continued in a light tone. “The other nurses said you’re not going to arrange a funeral for your mom.”

“It’s really not your business,” he said without looking back.

Haley shook her head. “Wrong. I think friends tell friends when they’re making mistakes.”

“We’re not...”

“I think we are, or at least I come closest to being a friend of yours. The line is a bit short.” Damon started to protest, but Haley kept talking. “So, I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong. First of all, by not having a funeral, you’re not honoring your mom’s life.”

“I don’t need to pay for a priest to say some words over a box.”

“I think you do, actually, but you can manage it however you want. You’re making a selfish choice because you don’t want to do it, and that’s shirking your responsibility to her.”

Damon looked at Haley, then, really looked at her.

“She was a lovely lady and her days on this earth should be celebrated. You can’t be the only person whose life she touched. Funerals are for the living more than the dead. What about all those people who would like to pay their respects and honor their memories of your mom? What about their need for closure or just for the chance to say farewell?”

Haley stepped back, even though she wanted desperately to touch Damon. In this moment, she was the one who needed distance. She hadn’t planned to confess this next bit, but she knew it was necessary.

Even though it wouldn’t be easy.

She had to convince him.

Funny how needing to help Damon always drew out her own confessions.

“My mom didn’t want to have a service when my dad died,” she said. “She was so devastated to be without him, and so angry that he’d died doing his job. She had a friend who insisted that she just agree and all the arrangements would be made. Her friend said that my mom and we kids didn’t even have to come.”

A glint of curiosity appeared in Damon’s eyes. “Did you go?”

“Of course. Reluctantly and with great trepidation.” She met his gaze. “Going to that service was the hardest thing I’d ever done at that point in my life. It still makes the top three.” Her tears rose and she blinked them back.

He waited, silent, and she guessed that he was wondering about Garrett.

“It was a celebration of life and it was beautiful. I cried so much but even then, I knew the tears were healing. That service helped us begin to face his sudden loss. The people who attended helped us to accept the loss and move past our grief. Their love and their compassion changed everything for us. Ever since then, my mom has said that her friend gave her the best advice she’d ever had, especially since she didn’t want to take it.”

“You’re going to tell me that’s what friends are for.”

“I’m going to tell you that if you cheat your mother’s memory of her due, just because it’s hard, then you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Haley took a shaking breath. “I’m telling you that if you evade this opportunity to share your pain, you might not be able to move past it. Those people will each give you a tiny bit of energy, and that will make all the difference in the world to you.” She paused. “Don’t you think your mom would want you to facilitate that?”

He stared down at the steps and Haley saw his throat work. “I don’t know who to call.”

“Did your mom go to church?”

“Sometimes. She changed to the Orthodox church in Flushing after my dad died.”

“Maybe she had friends there.”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

“That’s a good place to start. Call the priest there. He’ll help you through it. It’s part of his job and it’s certainly something he knows a lot more about than either of us. Did she teach or mentor any dancers?”

“Not recently, but until a few years ago, she helped out at a dance academy.”

“Ask them to help, then. They can put out the word. Don’t be afraid to delegate. People will know that you’re hurting: if you start the process, they’ll help.”

Damon didn’t say anything, just kept looking down. She reminded herself that it was unreasonable to expect more than that from him.

She’d accomplished what she’d come to do.

He wasn’t going to thank her or invite her in or continue their relationship in any way. He might not even tell her when the service was going to be.

They weren’t friends, to his thinking.

This really was the end.

It was time to leave.

Haley pivoted and walked down to the sidewalk. She told herself to be glad that she might have made a difference, but that didn’t feel like nearly enough.

She was startled when Damon spoke. “You still have that cat?”

“Of course.” She turned to look back at him, still standing on the top step, keys in his hand. She couldn’t read his expression, but that didn’t surprise her.

“Did you name him yet?”

“No. I can’t decide.”

“I still like Ninja.” He watched her closely, almost smiling. “That was a pretty impressive stealth attack.”

Haley blushed a little, easily remembering what they’d been doing when the cat attacked Damon. “I could call him Defender of She Who Gives Fish.”

“A bit long.”

“It is.” She nodded. “Ninja, then.” She already knew she’d think of Damon every time she saw that cat, so why not? “He’s always stalking something, sometimes even me.”

Damon did smile then. “That’s an easy impulse to understand.”

Haley dared to step closer again. “Don’t get all complimentary on me now,” she said, sounding as gruff as he usually did.

“I should ask you to stop messing with my expectations.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I would have said no, but you’re changing my mind.” Damon grinned briefly and Haley felt like the sun had come out.

Even when the smile faded, she wasn’t sure what to think of that confession, never mind the appreciative glint in his eyes.

His eyes seeming particularly dark. “Thank you for acting like a friend, Haley, even when I don’t. I’ve got some things to learn from you.”

She had a huge lump in her throat. “You’re welcome.”

“So,” he said, eying his keys in the lock. “Seeing as we’re friends and all, did you want to come in for a coffee?”

“Coffee?”

“My way of saying thanks. Or, given the time, dinner.”

He looked so hopeful that Haley took a chance. “That’s not your usual offer.”

“No.” His eyes brightened.

“I’d rather have sex than coffee,” she said and felt audacious.

Damon chuckled. “Yeah, so would I. I was working up to asking you.”

Haley strolled back toward him, smiling a little more with every step. “What a nefarious plan. Get me into your house, then lull me into complacency with coffee or food...”

“When exactly is it that you’re complacent?”

“Round about the same time you are.” She stopped right in front of him and he raised one hand to touch her cheek. Their gazes locked and held. Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in Queens to fill Haley’s lungs.

“Thanks,” Damon murmured, his voice husky.

Haley leaned her cheek against his hand. “You’re welcome, but don’t forget the other way you say thanks.”

“Dinner first?”

“Deal.”

“Then you can tell me about Garrett.”

“Not a chance.”

Damon smiled, but didn’t look daunted. Haley wondered why, then he bent and brushed his lips across hers, driving coherent thought from her mind with one fleeting touch. He was tentative, as if he thought she might rebuff him. But Haley wound her arms around his neck and stretched to her toes, kissing him back with enthusiasm.