Made for You (11 page)

He didn’t want to be her rebound. Or at least not
just
her rebound.

And yet, God help him…

He was going to say yes.

Y
ou can’t be serious about this.”

“I’m always serious,” Brynn said, shooting Will a death glare. Honestly, for a guy who’d sworn to be her personal tour guide through the land of rebellion, he was turning out to be a total stiff.

Starting with the night he’d verbally agreed to her frenemy-with-benefits suggestion before dumping her on his front porch and telling her he was
tired
. She’d assumed he’d come around the next day to collect. He hadn’t. Nor the day after that.

Then he’d dropped by with pizza, and then left without so much as a kiss.

Hell, she half expected him to show up with flowers, and that scared the
crap
out of her, because it would mean he was
up to something
.

So Brynn had done what she needed in order to regain control of the situation.

She’d taken him to a tattoo parlor.

“What do you think about this one?” she asked, pointing toward a tiny purple butterfly. “Maybe on my butt or something?”
Where nobody will ever see it.

Will glanced over her shoulder at the binder. “Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Brynn turned the page and planted her finger on a skull with pink roses for eyes. “Okay, then, how about this one?”

“Not unless you’re a cross-dressing trucker.”

“If you’re not going to help, you might as well go home.”

“Really? Because if that’s an option…”

Brynn clamped her fingers around his wrist, enjoying the way the dark blue of her new manicure looked against his forearm. “You said you’d have a fling with me.”

Will let out a long-suffering sigh. “Which I thought meant no-strings-attached sex, not hanging out in a dirty tattoo parlor on a random Friday morning.”

“It’s not dirty! I did a lot of research for one that was clean and respectable.”
And you turned down the sex.

“There!” he said, jabbing a finger at her. “That right there is proof that you shouldn’t get a tattoo. You researched first? Tattoos are supposed to be spontaneous. Or at the very least, about the ink itself, not how often the place dusts.”

“I don’t care how often they dust so long as the needles are clean,” she said with a lot more confidence than she felt. Actually, she
did
care about how often they dusted, but there weren’t exactly a whole lot of high-class tattoo parlors out there.

“We are not having this conversation,” Will muttered. But he reluctantly lowered himself into the seat next to her. She’d been sitting in the small waiting area for nearly twenty minutes under the guise of deciding on her “ink.” But she was pretty sure both Will and the kid behind the desk knew what she was up to.

Stalling.

As if on cue, an irritable-looking woman came out of the back room where the pain happened, and Brynn did her best not to gape. Save for her face, the woman was literally
covered
in tattoos, most of them resembling animals you’d find on a safari.

Brynn mentally crossed predatory animals off her list of choices. Too many teeth.

“Where’s, um, the guy that was here earlier?” Brynn asked, gesturing helplessly in the vicinity of the grungy welcome desk. He’d been clean-cut and sweet-looking. Nothing like this woman.

Safari Woman snorted. “Christian? He’s on his lunch break. He doesn’t do much other than phones and cleanup anyway.”

Cleanup? Clean up what?

“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.”

She made a face and turned to stare out the window, even as her fingers itched to explore the faint throbbing of her hip. It didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. Probably because it was so
fatty
. But she was dying of curiosity.

“You’re really not going to tell me what it is?” she asked, turning to study his profile.

“That was the deal. You want me to stick with you, hold your hand, and not tell your mom, you had to let me pick, and you have to see it for yourself.”

“This is quite possibly the most nuts thing I’ve ever done. I let a guy who’s dedicated his life to torturing me mark me for life.” She whipped her head around again to study him more closely. “Oh God, it’s not like a picture of your face, is it? Or your name?”

His mouth turned up in the tiniest of smiles. “Now, would that be so bad?”

“Yes! Yes it would be so bad! To spend the rest of my days forever reminded of my biggest mistakes?”

Will glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road, and she felt a little jolt of surprise at the unreadable expression on his face. She’d expected a retort. Maybe a put-down. But instead he’d looked…wounded?

Naaaahhhh.

He knew full well what they had. Ridiculous sexual chemistry and the long-term compatibility of a Bengal tiger and a canary.

“It’s not a canary, is it?” Brynn blurted out. “The tattoo?”

Will rolled his eyes. “You are so weird.”

“At least give me a hint—”

Will held up a hand as he stopped at a red light before the freeway on ramp. “No more tattoo talk for the next two hours.”

“But—”

“No. Just because you’re in this weird wild-child mode is no reason you need to have the patience of a four-year-old at church. Trust me, that tattoo will be there in two hours.”

“It’ll be there a hell of a lot longer than that,” Brynn muttered darkly.

“Regrets already?”

“Hard to say since I don’t know what it is. I mean if you’ve slapped a pair of hairy testicles on my hip bone, I’m sure as hell going to have some regrets. But the experience itself? The decision? It feels…liberating, ya know?”

“Sure, I know. But I’m surprised
you
do. You went from country-club prude to inked-up hooker so fast I’m getting whiplash.”

“Yeah, well, getting dumped will do that to you. Hey, you’re going the wrong way. You’re headed into the city.”

“Am I?” he asked, looking totally unperturbed.

She narrowed her eyes at his too-casual tone. “Where are we going?”

“Just thought it might be nice to get your mind off your tattoo for the next couple hours.”

Or until I can get to a bathroom and see what we’re dealing with
, she mentally amended.

“Fine. So what’s your plan? I don’t want something I’ve done before, I want something—”

“I know. You want to rob a bank or learn how to throw knives, but how about we start small? You already let me brand you, how about you take the rest of the day in baby steps and just relish playing hooky on a weekday?”

Brynn frowned. “But I’ve already been playing hooky for a week.”

Will snorted. “Yeah, I’ve seen the way you play hooky. You apply all that black stuff on your eyelids like you’re going daytime clubbing, and then go garden. You wiggle into leather pants to get the mail. You get a tattoo and then want to get a freaking
butterfly
. Oh, and let’s not forget…you ask a guy to be a fling, and then don’t so much as move to kiss him.”

Whaaaaaaa…Talk about crossed wires.

Brynn’s mouth dropped open. “I kissed you first that night! And for the record, it was you who threw me out.”

“Sure, so you could have a chance to think about your harebrained idea. I wanted you to sleep on it.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing? Waiting for me to make move number two? I mean I asked you to go get a tattoo with me, for God’s sake.”

“Holding a woman’s hand in a tattoo parlor isn’t exactly a fling, Brynn.”

She swallowed, remembering his moment of kindness in the tattoo parlor. “Well…thanks for doing it anyway.”

The second she’d lain back and Jody had told her to take a deep breath, she found herself reaching for Will’s hand. He’d taken it without question and held it the entire time, firm and sure. For some reason she had a feeling she’d be remembering that moment long after they were done with each other.

Still, she was more than a little annoyed at him. He was making her work for what she’d already asked for. It had been hard enough to put herself out there the first time, and now he wanted her to do it again?

Brynn folded her arms across her chest. “I told you I wanted a fling. I don’t know what more you want.”

“It’s easy after two glasses of wine, the thrill from a new look, and a fucking hot kiss.”

“It’s not easy when it’s you! We’re like Harry Potter and Voldemort. We’re nemeses.”

Will shook his head as he got off the freeway. “I’m talking sex and she’s talking
Harry Potter
.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it. You like black-magic movies and stuff.”

“I like horror movies, Brynn.
Harry Potter
does not qualify.”

Several moments lapsed as Brynn tried to figure out her next move while simultaneously trying to ascertain where they were going.

“So what do you want from me?” she asked quietly, as Will pulled into a parking spot in the middle of tourist central.

He turned off the ignition and faced her, one arm draped over the wheel in a way that was so intensely male that she wanted to take the tiniest nibble out of his bicep.

“I want you to ask me again.”

She didn’t pretend to play dumb. “But you already said yes the other night.”

“Only because I was hard and could see your nipples through that slutty top you were wearing. Ask me again. And I’ll say yes again. But you have to ask while sober. Maybe even begging a little.”

She held his gaze. “You’re playing games with me.”

Will gave her a faint smile. “Sweetie, isn’t that the entire point? To make a big game out of your ‘vacation’ before you go back to real life?”

There it was again. That raw, honest look on his face that was completely unlike the Will Thatcher she’d come to know and hate over the years. He was intentionally messing with her head. He had to be.

And yet…

“William Gregory Thatcher. Will you have a fling with me?”

His tiny smile turned into a full grin and her entire stomach flipped over.
Oh dear.

And then he was out of the car before she had a chance to register why something so simple as a smile made her swoon.

“Hey!” she called, scrambling to unbuckle her seat belt. “You said you’d say yes!”

“And I probably will,” he said, putting on his sunglasses and taking in the crowded scene as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “But first you must be tested.”

Brynn resisted the urge to slam her forehead on the hood of the car. “Tested how? We’re in the middle of Seattle Center. What do you want me to do, run through the fountain naked?”

Will gave a mock shudder. “Ain’t nobody wanna see that. And besides, your tattoo can’t get wet yet. No, I’m thinking more…science center.”