Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

“I’m Jody. I’ll be doing the art.”

Brynn worked up a smile. “Almost ready, just debating a few options.”

Jody raised a skeptical pierced brow. “Uh-huh. You sure about this? Because don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like my normal clientele.”

She didn’t? Because she’d tried, she really had. Brynn resisted the urge to glance down at her outfit. She’d wanted to go with the new black leather pants that made her ass look surprisingly fantastic, but it was too hot, so she’d gone for the shortest skirt in her wardrobe. One that seemed to have matriculated from her college closet, paired with a red tank top that was just a little too low to be respectable.

And red shoes. The shoes were key to this whole thing.

But apparently she didn’t look tat-ready. Should have gone with the leather.

“No, I’m doing this,” Brynn said firmly. She turned back to the binder in desperation. “I just need…”

Warm fingers caught her chin, and she found herself looking up into Will’s familiar gaze. “You don’t have to do this, Brynn. Nothing to prove. Nobody else even knows you’re here, and I won’t tell a soul.”

“Not even Sophie?”

She didn’t know why she’d asked. She didn’t care if Sophie found out, but it was important somehow, that she and Will could have a secret.

Especially if she was going to sleep with him. Again.

“Not even Sophie.”

Her heart swelled. Stupid heart. She took a deep breath. “I am sure about this,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I need to branch out, ya know? For me?”

Will studied her closely, his eyes never leaving hers. “Okay, then. Do you trust me?”

Brynn sucked in a small breath. Did she trust him? Will Thatcher, her long-term tormentor? The one guy who never failed to make her behave badly?

The very same guy whom she was now begging to help her behave badly?

He was unreliable, unpredictable, and incorrigible. But he was here, and that was something. And the way he was looking at her…

“Yeah, Will. I trust you.”

* * *

“What do you mean I have to keep this bandage on for a couple hours? I want to see it.”

“And you will. In a couple hours.”

Brynn pursed her lips and let Will lead her toward his car as they left the tattoo parlor. “Okay, fine. But I need to use the restroom before we go. Look, there’s a Starbucks—”

Will’s finger snaked around the tiny strap of her tank top as she strode toward the coffee shop. Brynn froze, knowing one good tug would send the twins spilling out for all of Aurora Avenue to see.

“You’ll have to hold it,” he said simply, his hand cupping her elbow and leading her more firmly toward the car.

“But I need to pee,” she protested.

“No, you don’t. You want to hide out in the stall and take a look at your new shiny tattoo.”

She shot him a glare and dropped into the passenger seat. “Something I wouldn’t have to do if you’d let me get it someplace respectable.”

“Trust me, the hip was your best bet. If you hate it, nobody will have to see it. And it hurt less than other spots because the hip is more fatty.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly. “How in God’s name do you have as many notches on your belt as you do when you go throwing around words like ‘fatty’ to women?”

“Oh, I don’t say them to actual women,” Will said, as he carefully pulled out into traffic. “Just to you.”