Hard and Fast(11)

Suzanne's eyebrow lifted. "You're a freak? Like freaky deaky in bed? Did  you tell him that?" Imogen's already pink cheeks burned from more than  exertion. "No, I'm not a freak in bed! I meant, I'm odd in that I'm  nothing like the women he usually dates. But it doesn't matter anyway. I  need to let it go." Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would  actually be possible. "I need to focus on my thesis. I'm supposed to be  in prime physical condition so I can go hiking and dirt biking and jet  skiing, since drivers are inclined to participate in aggressive and  physical hobbies. I need to watch my diet, drink lots of water, and  educate myself on the history of the sport."

Just thinking about it made her wonder why this had seemed like a good  idea. She was a bookworm, not a dirt biker. She had an innate fear of  anything that might result in every bone in her body being broken.

And judging by the way she was feeling light-headed and on the verge of  severe muscle spasms in her thighs, she was not in prime physical  condition by any stretch of the imagination.

"That sounds like a lot of work. It seems to me that a man and a woman  should just meet, decide they like each other, and call it good."

"The point is to increase your odds that he will meet you and actually  like you." 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.