Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

His eyes flicked back up to hers, his head inclining just slightly toward hers. “Not interested,” he finished in an equally husky voice.

She let out a hissing noise, and this time her mental and physical instincts were completely in sync. But he saw it coming, and grabbed her knee and pushed it easily away before she could make contact with his special bits.

He’d moved away before she could register the feeling of his fingers on her knee, giving her that classic Will Thatcher grin. The one that said I’ve got your number.

She straightened, primly tugging the hem of her robe into place, ignoring the brand his thumb had left on the inside of her leg.

“So, back to the debt,” he said, taking a sip of coffee as though nothing had happened. “Go get showered. The Marilyn Monroe getup won’t do.”

Her nostrils fluttered. “You’re calling it in today? I have plans.”

“What plans? Vacuuming your car? Ironing your sheets? Reading some boring biography?”

It was a little too close to her actual plans, and she kept her mouth shut as she moved to top off her coffee, instinctively topping his off as well just because he was there.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. For some reason this quiet and unexpected bit of manners unnerved her even more than the flirty Will and she felt herself blushing.

“Spit it out already,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Well, actually, I already told you the other day, but you seem to have forgotten. We’re going furniture shopping.”

Brynn’s mug clanked noisily on the counter. “Furniture shopping?”

“Good hearing, Brynny. And yes, furniture shopping. I plan to have lots of female company, and hence I need a female’s opinion. You qualify. Barely. None of this white stuff, though,” he said, gesturing at her clean color scheme.

“Make Sophie do it.”

“She’s busy.”

“So am I,” Brynn ground out.

“Not with anything interesting. And you owe me, remember? Wouldn’t you rather get it over with?”

“I’d rather you’d have just changed my tire as a favor, not as something to lord over me until you could decorate your bachelor pad.”

Will drained his coffee before rinsing his cup and placing it in the dishwasher, in the exact right spot on the top shelf. Upper right corner, handle facing in. How’d he know?

“I’m not shopping with you.”

He shrugged and then moved so quickly she barely had time to swallow her mouthful of coffee. He was on her in a second, his hips pressing into hers.

Don’t move. Do. Not. Move. Why could she never breathe around this guy?

It wouldn’t have mattered if she moved. She could already feel him, hard and hot even through the denim of his jeans, his erection pressing into the flatness of her stomach.

“I can think of another way to return the favor,” he said, his eyes never leaving her. “One you might like better?”

His hips moved ever so slightly and Brynn bit her lip against a moan. It’s just memories of before. That’s all.

“I’ll go shopping with you,” she whispered softly, keeping her gaze locked on a spot over his shoulder.

He moved away as quickly as he moved in, his grin triumphant.

Brynn didn’t know what bothered her more, that he’d won the battle, or that he was apparently more enthused about the idea of furniture shopping than sex with her.

“My driveway in thirty minutes?” he asked.

“An hour,” she said, setting her mug aside in resignation. So much for her quiet, productive Sunday.