Hard and Fast (8 page)

Suzanne made a disparaging noise. “And I can’t believe we’re working out at seven in the morning. This is an ungodly hour of the day to be sweating. If I’m working this hard in the morning, I’d prefer it be because my man has woken me up with an eight-inch nudge.”

That was a reminder she didn’t need. That could have been Imogen that morning if she hadn’t somehow scared Ty off the night before.

“I don’t mind the early hour.” Imogen grabbed her water bottle and sucked some down. She was starting to think she wasn’t going to survive to the thirty-minute mark.

“Alright, so we have to sweat our asses off and eat salads and shit and then what?”

“You don’t have to do this with me, you know.”

“It will be fun, and it will piss Ryder off to see me flirting with other drivers.” Suzanne shot her a grin. “And getting on my ex-husband’s nerves is worth the torture of this treadmill. Besides, I have the insider track on who you should target to flirt with and who you shouldn’t.”

“Sounds good, but only if you’re sure. This has the potential to be fairly awful.”

“Since when is flirting with hot men awful?”

“I was born without the flirt gene. It’s truly awful for me.” That was no exaggeration. “I mean, look at how I screwed up last night with Ty. He was flirting and tossing off sexual innuendos, and I just looked at him and said I would not have anal sex with him.”

“You
what
?” Suzanne shrieked so loud that Imogen saw half a dozen other fitness patrons swivel their heads to look at them. “Did he ask you to? At the party?”

“No, of course not.” Which was what made it all the more ridiculous. “We were in the car and he was hinting about positions, what was to come, etc., and I just blurted out that I wasn’t doing that with him.”

“Girl . . .” was Suzanne’s thought on the matter, her expression one of total horror. “Do not bring up the back door unless he’s knocking on it.”

Imogen was about to agree that was the wise thing to do when she glanced toward the front door and completely lost her rhythm on the treadmill. Ty was standing in the doorway with a gym bag in one hand, a cell phone in the other. “Oh, damn,” she managed to say before her feet lost the fight to stay ahead of the machine and she went flying backward on the belt.

In a split second she was on the floor on her backside, stunned from the impact, and totally mortified. Before she could even think to force her uncoordinated limbs to jump to her feet, hands were under her armpits hauling her to her feet. A glance over her shoulder showed a guy Imogen found vaguely familiar pulling her up.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Just embarrassed.”

He gave her a grin. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us. I sneezed once and wound up with free weights on my chest. That didn’t feel too good.”

“I imagine not.” Imogen tried to focus on the man in front of her and not glance over to see if Ty had noticed her graceless spill onto the gym floor. “Have we met?” she asked him as she took in his caramel hair, broad shoulders, and crooked smile. He looked very familiar. “Are you a driver?”

His friendly expression went wary and she realized her mistake. He was going to assume she had known all along he was a driver and that she had taken a dive on the treadmill right when he walked past in order to get his attention. But she was actually positive she had met him before, she just couldn’t place his face. And not that he would know it, but she couldn’t imagine herself ever taking a fall just to get someone’s attention. It went against everything in her to risk personal injury or to start a relationship on a false pretense.

“Yeah, I’m a driver. Evan Monroe.” He was moving back from her, clearly intending to leave before she could trap him for the next half hour gushing over him, or whatever he thought she was intending.

But Imogen smiled. “Oh, duh, of course you’re Evan. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away as Elec’s brother. I’m Imogen Wilson, Tamara’s colleague at the university. I met you at Elec and Tamara’s wedding.”

His face cleared. “Oh, sure. Good to see you again. Did you just join this gym, or do we just never work out at the same time?”

“I just joined in a vain attempt to improve my overall physical condition. I have zero coordination, as I just demonstrated for you.”

“You look in pretty good shape to me.” Evan smiled.

Imogen shifted in her gym shoes. She recognized that smile. It was interest.

This was an unexpected turn of events.

“And there’s something different about you,” he added. “You got new glasses since the wedding, didn’t you?”

She had.

Wow. Falling off the treadmill might have just handed her the perfect opportunity to flirt per the rules.

Of course, she was supposed to exercise to get in shape, not to fly off the machinery and land at the feet of a driver. But whatever worked.

“I did get new glasses.” She smiled back. “I can’t believe you noticed.”

“I’m very perceptive,” he replied, leaning forward slightly. “Especially when it comes to beautiful women.”

It was a perfectly nice and flirty thing to say, and Imogen knew she should be excited at the opportunity being handed to her, but she still found herself glancing over at the doorway to see if Ty was still there even as she answered Evan. “Thanks,” she murmured, suddenly disappointed.

Ty was gone.

 

 

 

TY figured he could squeeze in a workout before heading to the office and suffering at the merciless hands of his assistant, Toni Bodine. Mondays and Tuesdays were his days to play catch-up, and while he had put in a full day doing appearances and autographing merchandise the day before, Toni wasn’t about to let him slide in late on a Tuesday, and it was already past eight.

He had been walking in the door to the gym when she had called him.

“Any chance you’re going to grace me with your presence today?” was her greeting.

Ty had to admit, he wasn’t a business-savvy kind of guy. He liked to drive; he liked to win. Plain and simple. Toni, who was in her fifties and a formidable force with a spreadsheet, kept him organized and where he was supposed to be. But he didn’t shirk his responsibilities, ever, and Toni knew that. She just liked to annoy him, and he liked to grumble and grouse. It was the way their relationship worked.

“Maybe if you beg.”

“No chance of that. But I imagine your sponsor might be less than thrilled if you aren’t at Wal-Mart at five P.M. to sign autographs.”

Pacing back and forth in front of the doorway, Ty said, “Have I ever missed a single appearance?” Those he actually liked doing. He enjoyed talking to the fans and having his picture taken. It was press conferences and cocktail parties he couldn’t always hang with.

“There was that one time at Talladega.”

“I had the stomach flu!” And they had had this argument a hundred times. Toni was never going to let him live down a virus he’d had no control over.

“So?”

“I was a public health risk.”

“Wimp.”

“And you’re a nag. But a gorgeous one.”

She snorted.

“Hey, did you order that book on audio that I left on my desk?” Toni was just about the only person who was privy to the fact that Ty was dyslexic, and she frequently ordered books on audio for him, and helped him sort through all his paperwork.

“Yes. Though I’m not sure why you want to know how to win yourself the heart of a race car driver.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Ty frowned.

“It’s a dating manual on how to win a race car driver in six easy steps. The end goal is marriage.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ty was shocked. What the hell did that mean? Why would Imogen have a book like that?

“I am not kidding you. Where did you get it from anyway?”

“From a friend.”

“A female friend? Was it Nikki? Because that would not surprise me in the least.”

“No, not Nikki. We’re done. It was someone else, a sort of new friend.”

“Well, it looks like your, ahem, friend is on the prowl for a driver. Careful, Ty.”

“I don’t think she is.” That seemed nothing like Imogen, frankly, and hadn’t they talked about marriage after the disaster with Nikki? Imogen wasn’t the type to try to hook a man based on a dating book. He was sure of that.

“I’ve been flipping through it. It’s interesting. The first step is all about eating healthy, exercising, and learning about stock car racing. So if you spot her at the gym, look out.”

There was a startled yelp from across the gym and Ty glanced up, distracted.

What he saw made his jaw drop. It was Imogen, flying backward off a treadmill and landing on her ass on the gym floor.

“Oh, now you’ve really got to be freaking kidding me,” he repeated, absolutely appalled. It had to be coincidence. It had to be. Right?

“No, I’m not kidding you,” Toni said. “Are you sure you want me to buy this thing for you? I can probably still cancel the order before it ships.”

“Yes.” Ty watched as Evan Monroe helped Imogen up off the floor. “In fact, I might not want to wait until the audio arrives. I might just have you read out loud to me, sweetheart.”

Normally, he hated to have Toni read things out loud to him, but watching Imogen fuss with her hair and her glasses and move around on the balls of her feet as she chatted to Evan, Ty had a sudden burning desire to know exactly what the hell was in the book he had borrowed from Imogen.

And why she had it.

“Oh, goodie. That sounds like fun for both of us,” Toni said, her voice dry.

Yeah. Fun. That’s exactly what he was having.

Feeling the undeniable sensation of jealousy crawling up his spine and settling in his gut and temples and fists as he watched Evan lean closer to Imogen, Ty took a deep breath.

Then got the hell out of there before he did something stupider than what he’d done the night before.

 

 

 

BY six o’clock Ty had fulfilled all of his business obligations for the day and had forced Toni to read him Chapter One of the book he had borrowed from Imogen. Not only did it have advice to the would-be bride on maintaining a healthy and attractive appearance, what to wear, and how to research stock car racing, it listed the gym he worked out at as a possible place to spot drivers.

Toni looked up at him, her reading glasses sliding down her nose, her lips in a smirk. “Did you see any new girls at the gym today? Like maybe your new friend?”

“Of course not,” he lied, not willing to admit the truth. It was just too embarrassing and too confusing to make any sense of it all yet, and he didn’t need Toni’s ribbing.

He crossed his arms across his chest, rubbing the cotton of his T-shirt in distraction as he tried to sort it all out. What was Imogen doing?

If their roles were reversed, he had no doubt Imogen would just ask him straight out, but Ty wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. What if he hated the answer? What if she said she wanted to marry a driver, any driver, and was willing to follow a book to get that result?

He just couldn’t believe it.

“Does it suggest anywhere in there that you should have sex with a driver right after you meet him?”

Toni’s dark eyebrow shot up, but she didn’t say anything. She just licked the tip of her finger and turned the page. After a few minutes of flipping through the book, she said, “Actually, it says you shouldn’t have sex until a commitment is firmly established. The whole ‘don’t give it away for free’ adage.” Her brown eyes pinned him. “Why?”

“No reason. Just curious.” It was strangely satisfying to know that Imogen had fully intended to sleep with him, despite what that book said and why she might have it.

He suddenly felt the irrational regret that he should have taken her to bed. That he should have stripped her naked, licked and touched and sucked every inch of her, until she could no longer think, and she was his. All his. Only his.

“Alright, that’s good, thanks, Toni. I’m going to make a phone call.”

“You’re done learning how to win a race car driver? Who knows what little gems might be in Chapter Two.”

Rolling his eyes at her, Ty said, “It’s so nice to have an assistant who is a comedienne.”

With that, he stood up and went into the interior office that was his personal space. It was actually smaller than Toni’s office, because he had no paperwork, no calendar, no computer. He had long ago perfected the art of memorization, and once Toni told him his schedule verbally, he remembered it. He programmed alerts onto his phone as an added reminder, eternally grateful that technology had gone the route of using picture icons for menus.

Mostly his office was a place for him to relax between doing whatever Toni told him to do, and he had a minifridge and a TV with video games in there. He had no desk, just a couch and an easy chair, and he flopped down on it now and dialed Imogen’s number. He wasn’t really sure what her schedule was like, but he knew she was a grad student, so hopefully her classes were done for the day.

She answered on the third ring, but her hello was wary.

Sinking back in the chair, he said, “Hello, Emma Jean. How are you doing today?”

There was a slight pause. “Fine. How are you, Ty?”

“Full of regrets.”

“About what?”

No sense in beating around the bush. “About you getting upset last night. I was just trying to do the right thing. Make sure you didn’t have any regrets this morning. But it seems like we both do.”

“I’m sure you were right,” she said carefully.

“Maybe I should have trusted you to know what was right for you and we should have gone forward with it and had wild, boot-stomping sex.” He hadn’t intended to say anything like that, but the very idea of Imogen trolling the gym for other drivers, following some goddamn manual to win a man, had his skin tight and his gut twisted in knots.