Hard and Fast(13)

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.