Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

But she was wearing him down.

“Brynny, do you have a Taser? Trish’s kids are awful,” Sophie said, appearing at her side, slightly out of breath.

“No, but you can bribe them with marshmallows,” Brynn said, gesturing at the s’mores table for later.

“Yeah, because that’s what they need. More sugar,” Sophie said, her own cheeks now full of said marshmallow.

“I think they’re cute,” Brynn said, looking over to where her cousin’s twin daughters ran frantic circles on the lawn.

“The chubby one bit me.”

“You’re an elementary schoolteacher, you’re supposed to love kids.”

Sophie stuffed another marshmallow in her mouth. “I like them between the hours of seven and three p.m. Not so much on weekends when I want my wine.”

Brynn gestured toward the large silver bucket where several bottles of white wine were nestled amid the ice, but Gray was already on it, pouring a hefty glass for his wife.

“Can I help you with anything, Brynn?” Gray said, neatly popping the cap off a beer bottle and walking it over to the trash can.

The tidy action made Brynn smile. It was exactly what she would have done, whereas Sophie and Will would have flopped the cap on the table to be picked up later. By somebody else.

She met her brother-in-law’s eyes and they seemed to smile back at her, as though to say opposites attract, and all that.

“How’s Jenna?” Brynn asked Gray, after moving the flower arrangement just a few inches to the left and deciding that it was good enough. And that was another thing Will had taught her in the past few months since she’d coaxed him back from Chicago. When it came to the little stuff, sometimes, good enough was just right.

“Jenna’s on an absolute tear,” Gray said.

“Yeah, she mentioned that the guy she’s moving in with is trying to break up with her.”

Sophie snorted. “‘Trying’ is the operative word there. Nobody’s going to break up with that girl unless she wants it.”

“Seriously,” Brynn muttered. “I hope that guy’s ready to part with his testicles.”

After she and Will became official, Jenna had sent a succinct e-mail that read “Finally.” The two women had become pen pals of sorts since then. The most recent e-mail had been a scathing note about how the love of her life was having an existential crisis and could no longer handle Jenna’s fabulousness.

Jenna had mentioned a plan, and Brynn had silently said a prayer for the sake of the poor guy. She knew exactly how plans could blow up in your face.

“Grill’s preheated,” Will said, coming up behind her and tugging on her ponytail. She was growing her hair back out to its original length, and the blonde was here to stay. But no longer was she painstakingly straightening it with a flat-iron every day.

It was a little bit looser nowadays.

Just like her.

“I’ll get the plates,” she said, turning to head toward the kitchen after sneaking a quick kiss.

He snagged her elbow before she could go back inside. “I want to say something first.”

Brynn sent him an alarmed look. “If you tell anyone that we have matching tattoos,” she hissed.

“Not that,” he said, kissing her temple. “That’s just for us.”

“Well, and my parents, seeing as you told them—”

Will ignored her. “Hey, can I get everyone’s attention for a few minutes?”

The chatter abruptly stopped, and friends and neighbors who’d been standing in various clusters around the backyard turned to face them.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “I’m not singing another duet with you; that was a one-time drunken thing…”