Hard and Fast (9 page)

“Maybe we should have,” she said with the honesty he appreciated in her. “But it’s irrelevant at this point. I think, unfortunately, when two people rush the traditional mating process, it results in awkwardness whether there was any extreme physical relationship or not. I don’t see where we could go forward in any capacity now that there is confusion and reservations on both our parts.”

Damn, her logic turned him on. Every time Imogen started in on one of her declarations of how it had to be, he got hard as a rock, and determined to prove her wrong.

“I don’t have any reservations. I still want to peel your clothes off and make love to you all night long, just like I did yesterday.”

She cleared her throat and Ty grinned.

“Can you give me a brief overview of the history of stock car racing and how the season works?”

He blinked. That wasn’t quite the response he’d been hoping for. “Come again?”

“I’m trying to learn about the sport, and I assume you’re a reliable source.”

So she could woo some other driver with her knowledge about his job? Ty felt the muscle in his jaw twitch.

“Why, of course, gorgeous. Why don’t you meet me at my house for a drink, and I’ll teach you anything you want to know.”

He may not have a fancy degree from some university but there were two things he considered himself an expert in—stock car racing and sex.

And she was going to get both from him.

 

 

IMOGEN didn’t know what in the world she was doing driving over to Ty’s house in her ancient and temperamental car. But she hadn’t been able to say no.

It had surprised her when he had called. For some reason, she had thought, regardless of what he’d said the night before, that they were done. He wasn’t going to want to see her again. That she had bungled the situation too badly and he was going to decide she was more work than was worth it.

Understanding his motives and intent was more than a little challenging. So her curiosity had gotten the best of her yet again, and she had agreed to come over in person to question him on the ins and outs of racing. No doubt she could have asked him anything over the phone, but he wanted to see her, and she wanted to see his reaction to her in person. She also wanted to ask for her dating manual back and see if she could ferret out why he had actually taken it in the first place.

As she pulled into his driveway, checking the house number against the one he had given her and she’d scribbled onto a piece of scrap paper, she tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed.

She was really the worst student the graduate program had ever seen. Instead of focusing on her thesis, she was playing some kind of inexplicable game with Ty McCordle. She should be setting up interviews with drivers and their wives to determine how they had met and fallen in love. She should be following the
Six Steps
on a sampling of drivers to record their effectiveness.

Yet somehow she was justifying being at Ty’s house under the flimsy guise of having him instruct her on the intricacies of stock car racing. Which she could just as readily learn from books, the Internet, and her friends Tamara and Suzanne.

The truth was, and she strove to be entirely honest with herself and everyone around her at all times, that she wanted to see Ty just because she wanted to see him. Because he made her laugh and caused her heart to race. He also made her feel sexy, and it was safe to say that, while she always felt reasonably attractive, fairly intelligent, in control, and self-aware, she had never really felt sexy. Not in the “men want to rip my clothes off” kind of way.

Ty made her feel that way, and she was drawn to it. Wanted to explore it.

The garage door went up, and Ty strode into the driveway. He was clearly visible under the coach lights, and as usual, just the sight of him made Imogen swallow a mouthful of spit. God, he was just gorgeous. It really wasn’t right that any man should be entitled to claim that much masculinity, yet still retain such an easy prettiness. He had fine features and a narrow face, soft hair, and an even softer chin stubble, yet he was so confident, so toned and defined, so inclined to swagger, that he was all man and then some. It was a combination she was struggling to resist, with little success.

Especially when he grinned that naughty little smile, which he was doing at the moment.

Yeah, that would be her jeans going up in flames.

Opening the door, she was intending to get out and meet him in the driveway, but he waved her back in.

“We’re going to switch cars. Back out so I can pull out, then you can park in the drive. We’ll take my car.”

Imogen stared up at him. He had moved out of the light and she couldn’t really see his face all that well anymore. Damn daylight savings. It was only quarter to seven and it was pitch-black outside.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“To the garage. That’s the best place to learn about stock cars.”

Right. Stock car research. That was precisely why she was there. Not because she was an undersexed woman, he was a highly sexed male, and their bodies would fit together like a couple of click-and-lock puzzle pieces.

“Oh, wow, that would be great.” If she were capable of concentrating on anything other than him. “Isn’t it rather late though?”

“Nah. Someone will be around.”

“Okay. Great.”

They did a quick car switch, and then Imogen was back in the passenger seat with Ty peeling out of his driveway, an odd reverse of the night before. Only his car was a tricked-out sports car, and he was singing along to a country song on the radio, looking more cheerful than sexual. Damn it.

After enduring his off-key singing of lyrics that involved a man declaring his undying love for a woman, Imogen felt compelled to interrupt. “So when can I expect my book back?”

“In a day or two,” he said, cutting her a sideways glance. “Are you one of those people who guard your books like gold? Don’t worry, I won’t break the spine or spill beer on it.”

“I wasn’t implying that. It’s just that . . .” Imogen trailed off. She couldn’t say she
needed
the book. That would sound calculating.

“What? Look, if you need the book that badly, I can return it to you when we get back to my place. I wasn’t trying to inconvenience you.”

Great. Now she sounded thoroughly ungenerous. “No, of course not. I agreed to let you borrow it, so you can absolutely keep it for a few days. But I am curious as to why you wanted to read it.”

“I thought I might learn a thing or two.” He glanced over at her and winked.

Now what did that mean, exactly?

Never one to beat around the bush, Imogen said, “What does that mean exactly?”

“Why women want certain men, and if my worth to the opposite sex is truly just based on what I do on Sundays.”

“You doubt why women want you?” she asked incredulously.

“Well, there’s a couple of reasons why they want me. I don’t doubt that. But after Nikki, I’m feeling a little gun-shy. Like maybe while I’ve been so busy avoiding getting to know a woman too closely, they’ve all been doing the same. Like maybe I’m just a target for attention seekers and gold diggers.”

“Of course women enjoy the prestige of a driver, and there will always be attention seekers and gold diggers, but if Suzanne and Tamara are any example, they would have loved their husbands regardless of their occupations. Of course there is a woman out there who will value you as a human being as opposed to a commercial commodity.” The very thought irritated her in multiple ways. One, that he would doubt that. Two, that there were women who would try to use him, like Nikki. Three, that he might find the woman who wouldn’t, fall in love with her, marry, and have little McCordles. And that woman wouldn’t be Imogen.

“Maybe Ryder and Elec got the only two who will.” His voice had more of a teasing quality than concern.

Imogen snorted. “I imagine some other wives in the sport might dispute that.”

“Of course. What else are they going to say? Admit to greed?” He took a hard left turn. “But no, I’m not really serious. I know most of the guys who are married are all sorts of happy and so are their wives. Maybe I’m just starting to wonder what’s out there for me, for real.”

It clearly wasn’t her, for more reasons than she had fingers to count. Obviously he felt the same way or he wouldn’t be discussing it with her. That just wasn’t something you did with someone you felt might be a potential candidate. Imogen knew all of that in reality. It wasn’t like she had completely lost her senses and thought that she and Ty could actually have any sort of long-term relationship—they couldn’t even manage to have sex—yet it still stung. Just a little.

“You’ll find the right woman for you. And I imagine she’ll be a lot like Suzanne.”

“Suzanne?” Ty’s upper lip curled. “No, thanks. Women like Suzanne are not my type. Too uneven, all those ups and downs of their temper. It would give me an ulcer, all that trying to guess their mood, and wondering what the hell I’d done wrong. No, I want me a nice even-tempered woman. Someone who says what she means, but without the sting.”

Imogen’s throat was tight. “I’m sure you’ll find her.”

“When I least expect it? Isn’t that what people always say?”

“I have heard that.” The same held true for attraction. Imogen had never dreamed she would find herself consumed by lust for a race car driver. But it was safe to say, given the cottony feeling in her mouth and the ever-present dampness between her thighs when she was with Ty, that she was head over heels in lust.

“So why do you have that book, Imogen? You looking to marry a race car driver?”

Damn. Imogen’s mouth went hot and she dug her fingernails into her thigh. She had been hoping that her own inquiries regarding his reading the book would not be turned around onto her. That had clearly been underestimating his curiosity.

“I believe we discussed my opinions on marriage once before,” she said vaguely, not wanting him to believe she was that mercenary or calculating, but also not wanting to explain her thesis. For some reason, she had the feeling he would not appreciate her admission to intentionally flirting with his coworkers for educational purposes.

“Yeah, we did. Which doesn’t explain why you’re hauling around that book.” Ty glanced over at her. “You got secrets, Emma Jean? You have a crush on some driver and you’re hoping to up the odds with that dating guide?”

If only it were that simple. But somehow she couldn’t imagine that anything in the
Six Steps
would help her wade through her attraction to Ty McCordle. “No, that is not why I have the book.”

Ty pulled into a parking lot going way too fast, and the force bounced Imogen around on her seat. She grabbed the door handle for leverage when he hit the brakes hard so he could swipe a security card in the gate kiosk.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice sounding casual. “Maybe it’s Evan Monroe. He’s a good-looking guy.”

Uh-oh. Warning bells went off in Imogen’s head. She was observant enough and well versed enough in human nature to know the edge of jealous anger when she heard it. Ty must have seen her at the gym talking to Evan. And considering she had actually given Evan Monroe her phone number, for future research only, of course, she could feel the stain of a guilty blush covering her checks.

Screw the consequences, she was incapable of sustaining a lie of that magnitude. She just couldn’t pretend that she was genuinely interested in Evan, nor did she want Ty to think that she was, therefore, off-limits to him. It was ludicrous, but she did not want to close any doors regarding Ty. Especially the bedroom door.

“I have the book for research. I’m working on my thesis.”

That seemed to take him aback. “Come again?”

“I am trying to determine if dating rules specific to stock car racing result in a higher percentage of successful relationships or if there is no correlation between following a set of rules and marriage.”

“Oh.” Ty pulled into a parking spot and shifted gears hard. “So wait a minute. Let me see if I have this right. You’re trying to see if dating rules work? How are you going to do that?”

Imogen hedged. “I have a few test subjects.” If a reluctant Suzanne and a wild card like Nikki could be considered test subjects. “And I intend to interview married couples to see how they met and started dating.” She tacked that on to throw him off her first statement, but he just frowned.

“Are you using these stupid rules on me?”

Somehow she had never actually expected him to reach that conclusion since it had never been her intent to use the rules on him. The opposite, in fact. But she could admit it was a logical conclusion for him to reach, even if it absolutely, thoroughly, one hundred percent mortified her. Actually, though, when she thought about it, it wasn’t logical at all.

“No, of course not!” Imogen pushed her glasses up on her nose. “When have I ever hit on you or thrust myself into your path? If you recall, we met up by accident on the porch last night. I could not have predicted you would step outside at the very moment I was rolling my windows up. Nor could I have predicted that Nikki would be in the arms of another man, thus effectively ending your relationship with her.” Her cheeks grew hotter at the thought that he would actually think she was systematically pursuing him based on a book. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. It made her feel pathetic and more than a bit ridiculous.

She continued before he could respond. “And just for your information, the book says that a woman should not have sex with the driver she is interested in until they have been dating for quite some time and a level of commitment and intimacy is clearly established. So obviously I wasn’t following these rules because I was more than ready to have sex with you last night and we barely know each other.”

So there.

At the end of Imogen’s speech, Ty just stared at her for a second while his brain processed exactly what she had just said. Then he broke into a huge grin, thoroughly amused by her yet again. He absolutely loved that Imogen played no games. She told him exactly what she thought and felt.