Turn Up The Heat: Love Won't Wait / Beach House Beginnings / Strong Enough to Love. Victoria Dahl
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the small fenced yard.
When she turned, Brick was right there, crowded in close behind her in the small confines of the galley kitchen. He was so close, in fact, that Eloise could lean out and rub her head against his shoulder.
A little dumbfounded, Merrily stared up at him while breathing in the amazing scent of hot, hunky male. She’d been around other men and never noticed their scent. Did he smell different? Or just better?
Brick glanced at her with a raised brow and a barely there smile.
She had to get it together or he’d start to wonder at her motives, which, yes, included the desire for more than a doggy door to accommodate her pets.
Sidling around him, Merrily tried to gather her wits. “Would you like anything to eat? Or drink?”
He knelt down to examine the base of the door. His dark T-shirt stretched tight across his broad back and solid shoulders and the denim of his jeans hugged his flexed thighs. “I’ll take a drink, thanks.”
Lord, have mercy. Stalling, Merrily lifted a hand and fanned her face, but it didn’t help with the flash flood of heat.
Maybe she should have started this plan with someone just a little less...everything.
Less macho, less gorgeous, less overwhelming.
Problem was, no one else had appealed to her.
He glanced back. “Merrily?”
Having a big sexy guy around was an aberration and she knew she was bound to trip up occasionally, but still, she wanted to be just a little smoother. “I, ah, don’t have anything alcoholic. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it or I could have picked up some beer or something—”
Releasing her from the snare of his dark gaze, he opened the door and asked, “What do you have?”
“Iced tea or coffee. Cola. Maybe some juice...”
“Tea would be great, thanks.” He glanced back at her again, then all over her, before returning his attention to her face. “I’m not a big drinker.”
“Oh. Okay.” Merrily bit her lip at that lame reply. What did okay even mean? Should she admit she wasn’t much of a drinker either? No. Not yet. Not when so many social relationships relied on casual drinking.
After a ridiculous smile, she spun around and almost tripped over Dolly and Dundee. They sat there, staring at Brick with the same fascination she felt.
She put Eloise in a kitchen chair and opened the fridge.
By the time she’d finished filling a glass with ice and pouring the tea, Brick was standing again, his hands on his hips, expression pensive.
She handed him the tea. “Is there a problem?”
“Not a problem, exactly. I can do it. It’s just that I kind of hate to.”
He drank deeply, and she watched the way his throat worked. This late in the day, he had a dark beard shadow. She wanted to touch his throat, to feel the rasp of his stubble, maybe brush over it with her lips...
After finishing half the drink, he frowned at the door. “Your landlord actually agreed to let us do this?”
Merrily had no idea what he was getting at. “I talked with her about it before making any real plans.”
“Well...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Before I do anything, I’d like to talk to her, too. Do you know when she’ll be around?”
No, no, no. She didn’t want Brick and Tonya in the same room together—with good reason. “You don’t believe me?”
“Sure I do. But I’m guessing neither of you realize the value of that door. Before I start cutting on it, I want to talk to her myself.”
The idea of him meeting Tonya disheartened her, but what could she do? Merrily shrugged. “She’s usually home by now, actually.” Tom stretched up to her leg, so she lifted him. “I don’t understand your concern.”
“That’s one hell of a vintage door to chop up. Solid, probably original to the house, and still in great shape. They don’t make them like that anymore, not unless someone wants to spend a small fortune. People refurbishing old homes would go nuts over it. Seems a shame to mess it up. Once I cut it for the pet door, it’ll never be the same, and replacing it later with another door like it wouldn’t be easy.”
“Oh.” Merrily looked at the door, but to her, it was just...a door. “So I guess a pet entry is out.”
“No, we can still do it. But if your landlord agrees, I’d rather take that door down and store it so it can be put back in if you ever move. In the meantime we can throw up a cheaper door and use it for the pet entry. It’d still look nice, and it’d be plenty secure. What do you think?”
“Won’t that be more work for you?”
“Not a lot. As long as you don’t mind having me around an extra day or so, it’s not a big deal.”
Mind having him around? He had to be joking. “There’s a shed out back where you could store it or maybe in the basement or attic.” She hated to sound unsympathetic to the old house, and she loved the idea of prolonging his visit, but... “How much would a new door cost me?”
“Nothing. Jesse probably has something lying around that would fit.”
“Jesse?”
“My friend from lunch today.” He tipped his head. “You don’t remember him?”
“I do.” Jesse had an engaging smile, blond hair and green eyes, but sitting across from Brick, he’d been almost invisible—at least to her. Without thinking it through, she admitted, “I heard a few of the other waitresses talking about him.”
“Yeah? Saying what?”
She cleared her throat. “Just...girl talk.”
At her show of discomfort, his gaze brightened and a smile played over his mouth. “Tell me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
He set his drink aside and, with teasing intent, stalked closer. “C’mon, Merrily. Out with it.”
She back-stepped until her backside bumped into the counter. Heat rushed into her face. This was a new game to her, but she didn’t want him to know that.
He got so close that her heart hammered and a strange tingling spread out to her limbs.
It wasn’t at all an unpleasant feeling. Not with Brick.
“Now don’t faint on me.”
“No. I won’t.” She might jump him, but she wouldn’t pass out and miss any of this. She cleared her throat. “They, ah, said that Jesse was so sexy, he...”
“He what?”
To get it over with, she blurted, “Made panties drop.”
Brick didn’t put any space between them. In fact, he brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You think Jesse is all that?”
“What? No.” She shook her head hard. “I mean, I’m sure he’s nice enough.”
“He is.”
But he wasn’t Brick. She shrugged. “That’s it. He’s nice.”
Brick’s slow smile said a whole lot of stuff—but she wasn’t sure what exactly. “He’s a carpenter, so he always has extra materials on hand. If he doesn’t have a door that fits exactly, he can cut it down to make it work. Piece of cake for him.”
He was still too darned close for coherent thought, but she muddled through. “I’d have to insist on