Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

“I already confessed. And now she buys me my own bottle every Thanksgiving.”

“Of course she does,” Brynn muttered.

…jingle bells, jingle bells…

“Come on, Brynny, you owe me a favor.”

She paused at that. He wanted a cup of coffee as his favor? Hell, she’d been imagining something a little more…torrid. If coffee was all he wanted, she’d give him the whole pot.

“Okay, fine. I’ll give you coffee. But then you’re leaving.”

The knocking slowed. Then stopped. The doorknob rattled impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. She swallowed dryly. His hair was slightly damp and he smelled like soap, having obviously just showered. Yum.

“Wearing a shirt today, I see,” she said, closing the door behind him as he immediately headed toward the coffeepot. He found the cupboard with the mugs on the first try, and damn if that didn’t annoy her. He’d been gone for three years. He had no right to know how she organized her kitchen shelves.

He poured himself a cup before leaning back against her counter, eyeing her over the steaming mug. The scene was unexpectedly domestic and she resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze. His worn jeans and casual green button-down fit him entirely too well.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve been in your house since we became best friends and neighbors?” he asked.

“And the last time. Is the one cup enough, or do you need another to go?”

He ignored this. “I’m ready to call in my favor.”

She nodded in the direction of his coffee mug. “You just did.”

He held up the plain white porcelain cup in disbelief. “This? You think I rolled around on the hot pavement and wrestled a dirty tire for a cup of coffee? Please. I’ve got my own coffee back home.”

Brynn all but felt steam come out her ears as she realized she’d been played. “You said you were out of coffee.”

“Lied. I just needed a way to get in the door so we can t

alk about my due.”

“The only thing you’re due is my foot up your ass on the way out,” she snapped, opening the back door and making a sweeping outward gesture.

He sighed. “You and Sophie. Both cranky in the morning. Your poor parents.”

Will pushed away from the counter, idly shutting the door as he wandered into the living area.

“All-white décor. Shocker.”

Brynn closed her eyes in resignation. Short of forcibly pushing him out the door, he wouldn’t leave until he got what he wanted. And no way was she touching him.

“All right, let’s hear it. What do I have to do to even the scorecard? What sort of humiliating adventure do you have cooked up? Lap dance? Striptease? Orthodontist appointment?”

It wouldn’t be the last one. Will’s teeth were perfectly straight, perfectly white. Sharklike.

“Interesting suggestions, Brynny,” he said, idling toward her until there were just inches separating them, her back against the door.

Stupid, stupid, Brynn. She knew by now not to let herself get backed into a corner with this guy. He always took advantage.

“So the lap dance is an intriguing suggestion, but I find I’m…” His eyes skimmed over her, on the coffee stain splattered all over her breast.

Brynn sucked in a breath, every physical instinct telling her to arch her back to push herself into him, even as every mental instinct told her to knee him in the balls.

“You find you’re what?” she asked. Crap. Her voice was way huskier than the situation warranted.