“Of course I have a spare.”

Actually, Brynn had no idea if she had a spare. But her car was only a year old and was pricey as hell. Surely that meant they threw in one of the extra wheel things, right?

Will gave her a look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking as he popped the trunk and began rummaging around.

“You golf?” he said, pushing aside her teal golf bag.

“Taking lessons,” she muttered. “I belong to a group.”

“Of course you do,” he said, finding a hidden compartment and pulling out the spare tire.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, as he swung the tire out and rolled it to the front of the car, “that everyone I met at your birthday party belonged to some club of some sort.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with cultivating my interests.”

He paused in the process of setting up some sort of tools. “Do you ever listen to yourself? Cultivating your interests? Is that really what you want your life to be about?”

Brynn felt her temper rising.“You’re seriously lecturing me on how to live my life? You, who hasn’t been in the same place longer than a couple years? You, who has no idea what it’s like to maintain a steady job? You, whose longest relationship was determined by how long it took you to figure out the color of her sheets…” She broke off, running out of breath.

Will was looking up at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Dalton. Here I thought you wanted me to help you out.”

Think of the mayor’s daughter. Think of your career. Think of the big picture…

“Right,” she grumbled. “Sorry. Please commence with the man-moves.”

He snorted at her grudging apology, but returned to swapping out her tires. She told herself to watch what he was doing so she could learn how to do it herself. Not that she had any interest in being Ms. Do-It-All-Herself, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be asking him for a favor in the future.

But she couldn’t concentrate on what he was doing. Her mind kept going back to his barb about her clubs and hobbies. Is that really what you want your life to be about?…

There was nothing wrong with her life. And she didn’t understand why he’d said “clubs” with such disdain. Lots of women were in a book club. And a knitting club. And a yoga club…and…okay, maybe most women weren’t in all of those clubs like Brynn was, but how was she to remain balanced if she didn’t dabble?

Plus this way, if she had a falling-out with one group, she’d have the other ones to fall back on.

See? It was just good sense.

“So what’s so important?” he asked, maneuvering the spare tire into place with ease.

“What?” she asked, distracted by her internal moping.

“What’s the big hurry that you couldn’t wait for Triple A? Must be important if you resorted to knocking on my door.”

Seconds ago, Brynn had thought her reasoning completely sound. But for some reason now, when faced with Will sitting on the hot, hard pavement wrestling with her dirty tire, it felt a bit…shallow.

“Just an important client,” she said, striving for confident nonchalance. He was sweating, and it made his dark blond hair curl just the slightest bit and his shirt stick to his torso. It should have looked messy and unkempt. It did look messy and unkempt. It also looked…good. Really good.

“I didn’t know there was a such thing as an important client in orthodontics.”

“Why do you always do that?” she asked, tilting her head at him.

“Do what?”

“Belittle my career. You always make it sound like I sold my soul to the devil or something.”

Will stood and absently rubbed some tire grime off his hands as he examined his handiwork. “Just seems boring to me. Not to mention superficial. You get paid God knows how much money to tell kids they need to have you fiddle with their mouths in order to be attractive.”

“Now hold on,” she snapped. “First of all, you’re the last person to lecture me about noble careers. You’re not exactly curing cancer yourself. And second of all, several of my patients’ oral situations cause real pain and medical issues for them. I’m a doctor. Of teeth. And do you know how many little girls have sat in my chair, crying because someone made fun of their overbites? I fix that.”

“Well. Let’s just get you a Wonder Woman cape, shall we?”

Brynn huffed and began digging in her purse for her keys. “I don’t know why I bother.”

“Bother with what?”

“Talking to you!” she said, shaking her keys in his face. “Just when I think you’re going to be nice, you get me all…”

Will took a small step closer. “Get you all what?”

Brynn swallowed dryly and resisted the urge to take a step backward. He was just inches away, and if she’d been slightly sweaty before, she felt downright hot and bothered now.

“Please step away. Your man-stench is making my hair frizz.”

He didn’t move. “You didn’t finish your sentence. I get you all what? Riled? Panting? Hot?”

“I was going to say ‘nauseated,’” she snapped, starting to move around him.

He moved his body and blocked her way. “I don’t think so, Brynny.”

She sighed and tried to look unperturbed by his presence. “What do you want, Will? Money? You want me to pay you for playing Mr. Handyman?”

Just to piss him off, she started to pull her wallet out of her purse. His expression went stormy, just as she’d known it would.

“Keep your money,” he growled.

“And have you lording this over me? I don’t think so. How much do you want?”

Brynn glanced at her watch and winced. Even with Will’s help, she was probably going to be late. In the time she’d spent arguing with him, she might as well have waited for AAA.

At least then she wouldn’t be so…oh, damn, he was right. She was riled and hot. And possibly on the verge of panting.

“I’ve gotta go,” she mumbled, tearing her eyes away from his. “Think about whatever ridiculous price you want to put on your little hero-task and let me know.”

Will moved so quickly Brynn didn’t have a chance to react before he’d pressed her against the side of the car, his hands bracketing her waist.

Then his lips were on hers, and his mouth was every bit as firm and hot and wrong as she remembered. There was nothing soft about the kiss, and she stiffened as his tongue pushed between her lips and moved in silky possession against hers. She knew what he was doing…he was punishing her, torturing her, teasing her with the knowledge that she wanted him even as she hated him.

And she loathed knowing that he was right. She did want him. Hated that he could make her want him against her will. Still, she refused to let her hands slide around his neck to pull him closer, even as they itched to grab his head and give in to the onslaught of desire that rushed from her neck to her toes.

Instead she clenched her fist around her keys and refused to give in to her soaring hormones, even if it was the best kiss she’d received in looong while.

Her mind flitted to James much too late, and her eyes widened in realization.

And guilt. Bone-searing guilt.

James.

She pushed at Will’s chest frantically. He pulled back and searched her eyes, and she gave him her most condescending expression. The one that said That’s right, you just kissed me senseless and I didn’t kiss you back.

But oh God, how she’d wanted to.

Think of James, she reminded herself.

But James didn’t kiss like that. No nice man kissed like that.

“Well…I’d say your price was a bit high, but I’ll consider us even,” she said haughtily as she pushed him aside and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Will didn’t move as she closed the door and turned on the ignition. She’d been expecting a gloat, but instead he seemed…thoughtful.

Nah. Thoughtful wasn’t in Will’s wheelhouse.

“You’ve got a little issue there,” she said as she put on her oversized sunglasses.