Turn Up The Heat: Love Won't Wait / Beach House Beginnings / Strong Enough to Love

He was so big that it prompted her to stand, too, so he wouldn’t be towering over her. At least not as much as when she sat. Since he stood well over six feet tall, and she was less than five and a half feet, there’d be some towering going on no matter what she did.

But with Brick, she sort of liked it.

The cat squirmed in her arms, so Merrily started to set her down. Eloise had other ideas. She held on while staring at Brick in something akin to challenge.

A small, sexy smile tilted his mouth. He touched Eloise under her chin, and the cat closed her eyes in bliss. “So you’re the boss, huh?”

How did he know that? “It seems the cats are naturally bossier than dogs. And she’s the only female cat, so...”

“Nature’s way, I guess.” His hand went from Eloise’s chin to Merrily’s hair, tucking it behind her ear, then grazing her cheek. “You look nice with your hair loose.”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth so all she could do was stare at him. The combo of a casual touch and a compliment packed a wallop to her starved senses.

“But I like the ponytail you usually wear, too.”

“Oh...um...”

That knowing smile of his widened. He ran his big thumb along her jaw...then dropped his hand and looked around her home. “You have a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

He looked up at the cove ceiling. “There’s so much character in an old house like this.”

“I like it.” In a very short time, it had become her home, not just her residence. “The landlord, Tonya Bloom, did a great job in dividing it up for a duplex. In most of the rooms, you can’t even tell that it used to be one house.”

“Who lives next door?”

“She does. The landlord, I mean.” Merrily really didn’t want to talk about Tonya.

“She’s nice?”

“Very nice.” As well as beautiful, incredibly built, smart and successful. The comparisons could depress her, except that Tonya was one of those people who treated everyone like a cherished friend.

She did not want Tonya treating Brick that way.

Time to get him thinking about a different topic. “I was hoping the doggy door could open to the backyard.” Eloise still refused to be put aside, so Merrily carried her in her arms as she went into the kitchen.

Along the way, Brick held silent, and she assumed he was taking in the original high baseboards and the sloping wooden floors. But when she looked back, it was her behind he stared at. She faced forward again and tried not to put any more swing in her walk than necessary.

“Right here would be the ideal spot.” She indicated the thick wooden door that opened to 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.”