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Danny smiled. “You’ve spent too much time around the Beciraj crew. You sound like a loan shark.”
“Hush!” I swatted at him.
He laughed and then his gaze turned lustful as it dropped to my breasts. “Let that sit for a while and then they’ll peel right off without hurting your skin.”
“I will.” I didn’t want him to leave, but I could tell he had somewhere to be. “Are you leaving now?”
“Unfortunately,” he said, his gaze moving from my breasts to my face. “But I really don’t want to.” He forced himself to take a step back. With a stern look, he said, “Be careful tonight, Macy. If you have any trouble, call me. I won’t let you down again.”
Danny sealed that promise with a kiss, leaving me flustered and wanting. My body still ached from his intimate touch, and all I could think about was going out with him tomorrow. I didn’t care so much about having a proper date anymore.
All I wanted was to be alone with him—preferably naked and in his bed.
Chapter Six
As much as he complained about the heat and humidity, Danny had missed Houston. The familiar streets, the aggressive drivers, the incredible food—all the things Ireland had lacked. The first few weeks in Dublin had been interesting, but the shine had quickly dulled.
Of course, maybe that was more to do with missing Macy than anything else.
But before he could focus on the relationship he wanted with her, he had to make things right with Artyom. He pulled into the driveway of the latest house his uncle was renovating and killed the engine. He sat there for a moment, trying to think of the right words to use, and eventually decided to just say what he had to say.
Danny glanced around the neighborhood as he climbed out of his truck. It was evening, still light, and there were kids playing out in the street and in their front yards. It was a solidly middle-class neighborhood, mostly Latino, and not far from U of H. Like all of the properties Artyom chose to fix and flip, this one would probably sell quickly and net him a nice profit.
As he made his way up the sidewalk, Danny spotted Artyom next door, talking to an elderly lady as she watered her plants. They chatted away in Spanish, and Danny could see that his uncle’s charm was working on her. He waited on the sidewalk until Arytom was finished with his neighborly chat and came back to his property.
“Roses,” Artyom explained. “She’s going to give me some cuttings from the yellow shrubs.”
“Since when are you into rose gardening?”
Artyom opened the freshly painted red front door and welcomed him into the house. “I’m not.”
“But Chess is?” Danny guessed.
“Why are you here?” Artyom deflected. “Does your girlfriend need something else?”
Danny ignored the testy remark. “No, and she’s very grateful for the help you’ve given her.”
“Not me,” Artyom corrected and walked across the dented and scratched wood floor to the kitchen. “Do you want a beer?”
“Yeah.” Danny knew an olive branch when he saw one. “I’m sorry about earlier. What I said was wrong.” His gut twisted as he remembered the look on Artyom’s face. “I was an asshole, and I apologize.”
“Apology accepted.” Artyom handed him a bright green can of Saint Arnold. “But if you ever bring it up again?” His uncle held up his mutilated hand as a silent warning. “It’s done. It’s in the past. Leave it there.”
“Understood.” He cracked the tab on the can of Lawnmower. It was one of his favorite beers, not too heavy, bright, and clean. He took a sip and glanced around the house. “Are you going down to the studs?”
Artyom shook his head and leaned back against the cracked Formica counter. “It had a good remodel a while ago. I’m updating and doing some reno, but no big changes. This neighborhood is about families so I’m focusing on the kitchen, bathrooms, and the backyard. You’re welcome to help if you want a piece of the profit.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Danny could use the extra cash. “I wanted to talk to you about some long-term investment ideas. When you have time,” he added, knowing his uncle was busy.
“I have time now,” Artyom said and gestured to the small table in the kitchen. “Have you had dinner?”
“No.”
“I’ve got some salmon I was going to grill. You’re welcome to stay.”
So, he did. It was nice to reconnect after being gone. He could say things to Artyom he couldn’t to anyone else. He could voice his concerns and his worries without being judged harshly. He could ask for advice and know it was coming from a place of wanting to help him.
“We’ll start you off small,” Artyom said as he tended the grill. “Work on some projects together before you take the lead on your first few projects to get the feel for it. We’ll need to have you meet with a business attorney to set everything up correctly.”
