Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

“Dr. Dalton?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Brynn said, forcing her attention back to her sulky patient.

“I can wait for a couple months? At least until after yearbook pictures?”

“I don’t see why not,” Brynn said with a careful glance at the mayor, making sure she wasn’t contradicting parental preference. “My braces recommendation for you is primarily for cosmetic reasons at this point. You won’t be doing any harm to your teeth or jaws if you hold off.”

Actually, Lizzie Blanton’s mouth would be just fine without braces for a lifetime, but Brynn wasn’t about to volunteer that.

Still, the cosmetically fueled recommendation brought to mind Will’s accusations that her career choice was superficial and shallow.

He was wrong.

She knew firsthand that having straight teeth wasn’t always about vanity.

Sometimes it was about confidence.

Twenty minutes later, the mayor and her daughter were off to buy some frilly “fro-yo” milkshake the mayor had promised, and Brynn was in her office reading a mind-numbing article about some newfangled retainer.

But she couldn’t concentrate.

It seemed she couldn’t go two minutes without some flare of self-doubt creeping into her brain, and the latest offender was wondering why she’d busted her ass to get to work for such a mundane appointment.

Not that there was anything wrong with the daughter or the mother, but they’d been pretty standard patients. She waited for the zip of excitement that she’d just met the mayor. But…nothing.

Knock it off. You love your job. You’re just irritated because you let Will Thatcher kiss you.

And the kiss had been fierce and unwanted. And if she’d felt a little bit of a tingle, it’d definitely been irritation. Not lust.

&nb

sp; Brynn jumped at a knock on the door, seeing her partner and friend standing in the doorway.

“So how’d it go with the pseudo-celeb’s daughter? Was she a total prima donna?” Susan Wee asked.

Brynn smiled in welcome, gesturing her partner into her office. As far as work relationships went, Brynn and Susan were perfectly suited.

They were both calm, and friendly without being bubbly. Most importantly, they were damn good orthodontists.

When Brynn had decided to start her own practice, she’d known a partner would be inevitable, but finding someone she could trust and who wouldn’t drive her nuts had taken longer than expected. Susan was younger than Brynn had wanted—only a couple years out of school—but her work was flawless and her chair-side manner was perfect.

The fact that the women had become friends was icing on the cake.

“I wouldn’t say Lizzie Blanton is a prima donna,” Brynn said, idly tapping her pen against her desk. “She is, however, a major brat.”

Susan shrugged as she dropped into the chair across from Brynn. “She’s twelve. Of course she’s a brat.”

“I don’t think I was,” Brynn mused, pursing her lips.

“Me neither,” Susan said cheekily. “I was a perfect child. And pretty perfect now, if I do say so myself.”

Brynn forced herself to smile back. It was a long-running joke between the two of them. Perfect jobs, perfect boyfriends, perfect lives…

It was supposed to be a point of pride, having crafted her dream life through sheer organization and hard work.

But today it felt…stale.

Damn Will Thatcher.