Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

And it was the calmest she’d felt in weeks. Maybe months. Hell, it was the most at peace she’d felt in years, and she was experiencing it with the person she’d always associated with chaos and crassness.

She almost found herself wanting to confide in him. To explain that she didn’t mean to be so damn focused on doing everything right, but that she was afraid that if she stopped trying, she would be an outcast.

She waited for the usual sense of justification that came from recalling the miserable childhood memories.

Waited to feel the usual sense of recommitment to making sure she never gave anyone anything to criticize.

However, this time, the memories felt stale…like maybe it was time to let them go…

But she couldn’t. Not yet. Those memories had shaped her. Without them…

She didn’t even know what she’d be. Whom she’d be.

Eventually they came across a more populated part of the beach where a rowdy group appeared to be attempting a clambake, even though the weather wasn’t cooperating.

In silent agreement, they turned around and began heading back toward the house. By the time they made it back to their shoes it had started to rain, and between the gritty sand and the continual drizzle, Brynn had a heck of a time trying to put her impractical ballet flats back on.

“Fuck it,” Will finally muttered. He grabbed her shoes from her hands and thrust them at her before scooping her up against his chest, one arm hooked beneath her knees in the classic Rhett Butler style.

“Why, William Thatcher, I didn’t know you had these kinds of moves,” she said, trying for coy and failing miserably.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

It was a blatant reminder of their disastrous conversation from earlier, and Brynn’s smile slipped. But Will was apparently ready to forgive and forget, because instead of lapsing into a male sulk, he stamped a hard kiss on her mouth.

Brynn knew what he was offering—forgiveness—and she grasped at it eagerly, hooking a hand behind his neck and keeping his cool lips locked against hers as she slipped her tongue into his mouth and took the kiss deeper.

Their tongues waged a hot, wet war as they kissed as furiously as they’d ever argued. Their teeth bumped, and his stubble burned her chin, but she didn’t let go, not until they were both gasping for air and bursting for more.

Will pulled back with a muttered oath, and he began taking the steps two at a time. She squirmed to be put down when they reached the back door, but he held her still, somehow managing to open the sliding door with

his elbow and hip. Will headed immediately for the bedroom, and every part of Brynn throbbed in anticipation.

He gently set her on her feet in the bathroom, and she reached eagerly for the hem of his fleece. Will stilled her hands.

“You can shower here. I’ll use the second shower.”

He didn’t meet her eyes as he left the bathroom, and Brynn stood there for several seconds, before she realized she was frigid, and the sand was starting to make her feet itch. Numbly, she stripped, leaving her clothes in a messy pile as she stepped into the open-styled stone shower.

She stood there for long minutes, letting the hot water rush over her, even as she wished it was Will’s deft, capable hands doing the warming.

What was the point of a weekend getaway with sexy lingerie if a guy turned down a prime opportunity for shower sex? And she knew his preferences by now. Will loved shower sex. Loved when she sank to her knees and took him in her mouth…

Brynn let out a frustrated groan as she shut the water off and snatched one of the fluffy blue towels.

She took her sweet time drying her hair, not only to ward off the chill, but to try and gather her thoughts. What the hell was going on here? They’d been angry, they’d been frustrated, and they’d been hot for each other, but they’d never been this. She’d never felt uneasy around him.

And he’d never been wary.

She sensed they were circling something that was both precious and fragile, but damn if she knew what it was.

Pulling on a pair of wrinkled pink-and-white PJ pants and a fuzzy white sweater, she wandered out into the main living area. She was pretty sure she’d seen wine in his arsenal of supplies. Perhaps that would help.

Brynn froze at the scene in front of her.

He must have been a Boy Scout after all, because the fire was huge and crackling. The scene in front of the fire was even more intriguing. Wine. A cheese plate. And a thick, soft-looking blanket that practically advertised writhe on me.

But it wasn’t any of that that made her breath catch.