Just One Night Together (Flatiron Five Fitness #3) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,64
seductive and made her think of the future. But the best moment always ended. It was better to be prepared than to dream and be surprised.
Damon would meet someone else. She might meet someone else. They would have sex with other people and move on.
But she would enjoy this while it lasted, because being with Damon made her happy.
She could hear Damon talking to his partner, but didn’t want to eavesdrop on him.
Haley put in her earbuds and turned on some music on her phone, placing it on the counter as she diced vegetables. She had a loop of various versions of her favorite song, which seemed perfectly appropriate under the circumstances.
She’d drive all night to have sex with Damon, that was for sure.
That impulse couldn’t possibly be a bad thing.
Damon leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Haley. She was in her stocking feet, wearing tights and a swingy knit dress, dancing in his kitchen. She had her back to him and was singing, oblivious to his presence thanks to her earbuds. Her phone was on the counter beside her, and she was adding diced carrots to a big bowl as she sang. It was already loaded with mixed greens and chopped peppers.
She was singing out of tune.
Loudly and passionately.
She was impossibly cute.
He knew she wouldn’t be able to hear him approach and didn’t want her to jump in surprise and get hurt. She’d chosen a big knife and job one was making sure it didn’t fall. He covered her hand with one of his in the same moment that he caught her around the waist from behind. He held that hand down on the cutting board, ensuring that the knife couldn’t do any damage. She released it, then twisted in his embrace and smiled up at him, still singing along.
But now she was singing to him.
Damon removed one of her earbuds and put it in his own ear. It was Cyndi Lauper’s version of I Drove All Night, an infectious and energetic song that he heard often at the club. The beat was perfect for working out or dancing.
“My favorite,” Haley admitted when it ended. “Next up is the Roy Orbison version.” She lifted a finger. “Which was recorded first but released second. Posthumously.”
“And after that, Céline Dion’s version?”
“No, Pinmonkey is next.” She shook her head, making that ponytail bounce. “They have to be in chronological order.”
“Ah, I missed that bit.”
“Then Céline Dion, then the Maccabees, then the Protomen, and then Carly Smithson.” She gave him a triumphant look. “Before this, I listened to Ray Dylan’s version and John Waite’s version.”
“All of them singing I drove all night to get to you?”
Haley nodded. “Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because it is The. Very. Best. Song. Ever.”
He leaned against the counter beside her, intrigued. “You seem to be uncertain about that.”
She laughed and picked up the knife again, resuming her chopping. She was blushing, just a little.
Maybe he should say thanks before dinner.
“Why is it the best song?” he asked. By her own admission, she wasn’t a romantic. Was she a relentless optimist? She seemed to have no doubt of her abilities to fix things.
Even him.
“Why?” she echoed, as if the very question was ridiculous. “Come on! It’s about wanting someone so much that you have to get to their side. A.S.A.P. No matter the cost.”
“Even if you have to drive all night.”
“Yes.” Haley nodded. “It’s about passion and great sex and obsession and it’s just perfect.”
“Isn’t it about true love?”
She bit her lip, considering it. “I guess it could be.” Her gaze flicked to him. “I think it’s more about that moment in every relationship when the other person is the only thing you can think about, the bit where everything seems perfect and full of promise.”
“The part that doesn’t last.”
She nodded easy agreement. “It can’t last. Nothing that good can stay that good. Maybe the moment is sweeter because it doesn’t.”
“Maybe.” Damon spoke his thoughts aloud. “My mom would have said true love does last.”
Haley nodded. “So would mine.” She shook her head. “I think that’s a fantasy for most people.”
“And our moms?”
“They want to believe it. Maybe they ignored the truth because they didn’t want to see it.” She winced. “Maybe it’s easier to believe the fantasy after you’re widowed.”
There was that.
“Don’t talk about mermaids again.”
Haley smiled. “It’s kind of the same. I can like this song without believing that true love lasts forever.”
Damon was skeptical. “Tell me about Garrett,” he invited, not really expecting her to do so.