Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

“Brynn,” he said quietly, reaching out to her again.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t.”

Clutching her purse, she scratched at the door again, shoving it open in clumsy haste. She set one foot out into the stormy night before hesitantly looking back at him.

“You won’t…you won’t tell anyone about this, right? We’ll just chalk it up to a moment of absurd insanity?”

Any softness that might have been in his eyes vanished. “Don’t worry,” he snapped. “Your secret is safe with me. You think I want anyone knowing that I failed to get a hot reaction from Ice Princess Brynn? You’re just as cold as everyone thinks you are.”

She didn’t let his words sting. She was already numb.

“Good night, Will,” she said stonily as she climbed out of the car. “If you’ve given me some sort of disease, you’ll be hearing from me.”

She’d barely slammed the door before he peeled away from the curb with a squeal of tires. Typical, she thought. Slowly her snarl faded as she stood hunched in the rain, staring after his long-gone taillights.

That was a mistake. The realization came as a shock.

Because Brynn Dalton did not make mistakes.

* * *

“No. Absolutely not ever. The dining room table was fine. The living room furniture was tolerable. Your home office collection was pushing it, but I absolutely draw the line at shopping for your bed.”

Will gave her a patronizing pat on the shoulder. “I understand. Too many memories?”

Brynn’s eyes narrowed as he’d known they would. “Seems to me there’s not much to remember.”

“Oh? Is that why you were panting at me in the kitchen this morning?”

“Oh baby, yeah, because conniving men in ratty jeans who steal my coffee really turn me on.” She brushed past him, shoulders back as she headed in the direction of the mattress store.

He gave a little smile of victory. He’d been gently manipulating her all day long, turning her “two hours” max into a full day of shopping.

So far the day had gone exactly as he’d planned. He hadn’t counted on her holding out quite so long before letting him into her house, and the chorus of “Jingle Bells” was still banging through his brain. But it had been worth it just to see her in that sweet little pink robe. Even the messy coffee stains hadn’t been able to distract from the long toned legs.

Legs he remembered wrapped around his waist all too well. And his head. And his…

“Thatcher, you coming, or what?” Brynn snapped from up ahead.

Oh, I wish.

“You know, manipulating my whole day is really pushing it, considering that putting on my spare tire took you all of twenty minutes.”

“Twenty difficult minutes,” he corrected, holding open the door for her. “So far all you’ve had to do is wander around in the air-conditioning and test couch cushions for comfort.”

“I still think you should have gone with the café au lait–colored one,” she said, as she frowned around at the enormous collection of mattresses.

Will had dragged her to the Bellevue Collection, a mass of multiple upscale shopping centers that had a variety of furniture stores within walking distance.

“Was the café au lait one the boring beige one?”

“No. Beige and café au lait are not the same thing. Although both can be nice, and neither is boring.”

“Says the woman with all-white future.”

Will threw himself back on the first mattress in the row, knowing immediately that it was too soft for his preferences. But he had every intention of drawing this part of the shopping adventure out as long as possible. Every intention of reminding her of him on a mattress. Of her on a mattress with him.

“What do you think of this one?” he asked casually. Apparently too casually, because she immediately narrowed her eyes at him.