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My finger pauses over the send button, and I delete it after a couple of seconds. I can’t do that. Not after I rejected him and essentially told him to grow up. I know in my gut that I’m the one who has to go to him. He’s the one who’s made all the moves. Who’s put himself out there for me. It’s my turn to do the same for him.

But if I go to him, it can’t just be for sex – that’s not fair either. I can’t use him for that. Not when I know he wants more. I have to want more, too.

And I do. I do want more.

I think for a little. My pulse is bounding through my body so hard I can feel it in my fingers as they hover over the keyboard. Finally, I settle on something simple.

Are you home?

I stare at the phone for long moments, willing for those three little dots to appear that tell me he’s texting back. Suddenly they do, and my pulse edges up a little higher.

In 39. Fixing sink. Why? You get a delivery you need a hand with?

I laugh, not expecting him to crack open the door for me so readily. We’ve texted a few times this past two weeks but mostly justare you okayandhow was your day/night/shift/gig. He has to know this is not that. And yet he’s chosen to be funny/sexy/bantery Danny and I could kiss him for being so magnanimous.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. He’s not Warren, who would still be sulking over my refusal to fall in with his plan. He’s Danny.

I don’t stop to think. I don’t even stop to change my clothes or run a brush through my hair or put on lipstick. I have to see him – now. I have to talk to him now. And it’s not like the man was put off by me looking like the Yeti on the day of the blizzard.

I run down four flights of steps. The door to thirty-nine is open and I stride in, not knocking or waiting for an invitation to enter. Ahead of me is Danny in his regulation jeans and T-shirt, his shoulders broad, his ass to die for as he bends over the sink.

My heart leaps. And not because of his ass, but because of the sense of rightness settling in my bones. ‘Danny?’

He turns abruptly, his eyebrows raised, his frown turning into one of those slow-burn smiles that I feel deep in my soul, as well as other places, as I shut the door behind me and stalk towards him, my heart swelling, every cell trembling.Gah! This man – I’ve been such an idiot.

‘You need it that bad, huh?’

I give a husky half laugh as my greedy gaze eats him up. Glancing at the huge wrench in his hand, I say, ‘We’re not talking about that, I hope.’ Because it’s so good to see him and flirt with him.

He chuckles, and those dimples… I want to lick those dimples. ‘I don’t think you can handle the wrench. Although…’ He tips his chin at the tool bag. ‘I do have my lucky screwdriver with me.’

‘Lucky screwdriver?’

‘Forever to be known as,’ he murmurs with a grin.

The wrench makes a metallic scraping sound as Danny places it in the sink. His biceps shift nicely at the action, the tatts on his arms play peek-a-boo with the sleeves. His fingers wrap around the edge of the sink behind him as he rests his ass against it, too, his legs casually extended and crossed at the ankles.

I try not to look at soft denim cupping the very nice bulge nestled between his legs, and fail. But I manage to contain it to a brief glance. He smiles as he clocks my interest.

‘Does Mrs Duffy know she has a billionaire fixing her sink?’

Another smile. ‘I’m keeping that on the quiet for a bit longer.’

‘Still trying to figure things out?’

He nods. ‘I’m working on it. I have a lawyer. Bob’s lawyer, actually. He’s looking in to how I can help veterans. There’s a lot of vacant inner-city buildings all over the country since the pandemic changed the way people work. We think we can use them for housing. And we’re looking at covering any and all healthcare costs for veterans who are in need.’

I blink. Wow. ‘Danny… that’s…’ I shake my head in wonder. ‘Amazing.’

‘Thanks to you for the kick up the ass.’

I laugh. ‘You’d have figured it out in due course.’ I shake my head again, thrilled at this outcome. ‘Bob would have loved what you’re doing.’

Danny gives a sad sort of smile as he nods. ‘Yeah… I think he would have.’ A rich streak of pride in his voice causes the skin on my arms to break out in goosebumps. ‘We have other ideas.’

‘We?’

‘I’ve formed a board.’ He laughs then like he can’t quite believe it himself. ‘With a few of Bob’s military buddies. They’re kind of a brains trust. We’re kicking stuff around, exploring the possibilities.’