Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

Exemplary Life, #14

Can I take you out again?”

Brynn looked up at the handsome man standing on her front porch and wondered why she didn’t feel more than an indifferent hum.

Evan McCain was perfect for her. Handsome, successful, conventional. A lawyer. Stable. But the first date, which was perfect on paper, had been merely pleasant. All of her usual criteria were fulfilled, but she couldn’t seem to muster any excitement about a future date.

She studied his classically attractive face, and assessed. Her parents would love him—he was the ultimate son-in-law material. Her friends would approve. He’d fit in perfectly at her cousin’s elaborate dinner parties.

Sophie would be the only one less than impressed. She’d write him off as “too perfect,” which had never made sense to Brynn. What was better than perfect? Brynn had never understood why Sophie craved unpredictability, passion, and change. It was so messy.

But for the first time in her adult life, Brynn was beginning to wonder if her sister might be on to something. Perhaps Brynn was missing out on some crucial factor by only dating men who fulfilled her carefully configured checklist of required qualities.

She thought briefly of Will, but immediately pushed him away. Talk about a man who had none of her required qualities. Well, except for the looks, of course. Will was definitely handsome, if you liked the obvious, male-model thing.

Brynn hadn’t seen him since the depraved scene on his kitchen floor a month before. He’d called a couple of times, but she hadn’t picked up. He was probably calling to gloat that he’d found her underwear, which they’d been unable to locate during the awkward morning after. Brynn wasn’t adept at spontaneous sexual encounters, and she certainly had no idea how to handle the aftermath of this particular mistake.

She was ashamed to admit that she’d even lied to her family about having work on Sunday nights in order to avoid seeing Will at dinner.

“Brynn? Have I lost you?” Evan asked with a gentle smile. “How about next weekend?”

Oh, what the hell. The guy might be as exciting as Wonder Bread, but she was sick of being single.

“Sure!” she agreed with more enthusiasm than she felt. “How about Friday?”

Evan gave a quick victorious grin, perfectly masculine without being chauvinistic. It should have been appealing. Hell, even a month ago, it would have been appealing. Damn weddings and their false promise of romance—look at where all the talk about lifelong vows had gotten her. Up against the wall of Will Thatcher’s bachelor pad.

“Kiss me?” she said suddenly to Evan. He looked slightly surprised at her forwardness, but plenty willing.

She regretted her impulsive request as soon as Evan’s head dipped toward hers. But maybe the kiss of another man would banish the demon of that man. She tried to lose herself in Evan’s kiss, she really did. But the harder she tried, the more she realized it wasn’t right.

When they finally broke away, he too seemed aware at the lack of chemistry.

“You’re sure about Friday?” he asked.

Brynn forced a smile. “Of course! I look forward to it.”

He gave her a small smile, looking a lot less interested than he had before their lackluster kiss. He made some noncommittal comment about double-checking his schedule and calling her.

Brynn had given enough polite brush-offs in her dating career to recognize when she was receiving one, but she couldn’t bring herself to care that this was probably the last she’d see of Evan the lawyer. She couldn’t blame the guy—from the way she’d kissed, he probably thought she was frigid.

She sighed and let herself inside, anticipating a hot bath, a good book, and a cup of tea.

The sight of the man sitting on her couch had her screaming like a banshee and dropping her purse. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Will held up her latest issue of Cosmopolitan without glancing up from the magazine. “Did you know,” he said, “that the average American woman has seven sexual partners in her life? Isn’t that interesting?”

Brynn took a deep breath to steady her pounding heart.

“Which notch is Evan on your bedpost?” Will asked thoughtfully. “Five? Fourteen? Thirty?”

“You were spying on me?”

He shrugged. “Open window, perfect hearing. Very awkward.”

Brynn let out a snarl. “Get out of my house. How did you even get in here?”

He sighed as though she was being an unreasonable child, and reluctantly set the magazine aside after dog-earing a page. “If you must know, your mother gave me a key. I stopped by to fix their computer and she asked if I could drop off the pie dish you left at their house.”