Flat-Out Sexy(31)

Tamara sighed. "Her name is-"

But Imogen just shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

"What?" Ty said. "Look, I'm sorry, I admit it, I can't figure your name  out. I've never heard that name before and I can't wrap my brain around  it. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try or that you shouldn't expect  me to learn it."

Before either of them could say anything to his speech, he added, "It's really not Emma Jean?"

Imogen actually pressed her lips together to contain a grin. "No, it's  not. It's Imogen. I-m-o-g-e-n. It's Shakespearean, and I'm very aware  it's a difficult name for the average person, so I appreciate you trying  to learn it."

Ty grinned at her. "You calling me average?"

Imogen blushed. "No, no, of course not."

Ryder leaned in to Tamara. "So, uh, what exactly is going on with you and number fifty-six over there?"

Tamara looked at Ryder, not sure what his reaction to her dating Elec  would be, knowing how close he had been to Pete. "I don't know," she  told him in all honesty.

"Well, just so you know, I'm all out of properties for you two to get it on in, unless you want to do it in my car."

Yep, that was a blush flooding her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I know I'm being tacky . . ."

"Hey, sometimes you just can't wait and I can appreciate that. I think  it's great that you're having fun. Just be careful. Be sure of what  you're doing, you know? What you want."

That was the problem. She had no clue what she really wanted. "Thanks,  Ryder. Now will you take Ty out of here before he has my TA running back  to Manhattan with her hands over her ears?"

"Sure." Ryder gave a whistle. "Hey, McCordle, train's leaving. I'm in need of a cold one.

Let's hit the bar."

"I'm there with ya," Ty said, giving a wave to Imogen.

They said good-bye to the kids, then they were gone, slamming the front door behind them.

Tamara looked at Elec. "Do you mind if I talk to Imogen for a minute?"

"No, not at all."

"Are you okay with them?" she asked nervously. She didn't want to foist the responsibility of watching her kids onto him.

"We're fine. Aren't we?" he asked Hunter, who was still hanging on his back.

"Yep," her daughter said.

"Okay, we'll be in my office." Tamara led Imogen down the hall. "I'm  really sorry about Ty . . . he wasn't trying to be rude. He just  honestly didn't understand what your name was."



"I know." Imogen shrugged. "I'm used to it. When I was a kid, I wished  desperately that if my parents had wanted a Shakespearean name, they  could have chosen Paris or Portia or even Juliet, but I've grown into  it. I hear it's a very popular baby name in Britain now, which strikes  me as amusing. I'm never quite in the right place at the right time. And  it definitely could have been worse. They could have named me after a  piece of fruit."

Tamara laughed. "That's true. Hey, for what it's worth, I love your  name. Try having everyone call you Tammy. It's so ordinary. And  virtually no one outside of my professional environment calls me by my  full name."

"I noticed Ryder and Ty call you Tammy. It surprised me."

"I ask them to call me Tamara, but they never do." Tamara stepped into  her office, which was her kid-free haven. It had an abundance of  turquoise, pink, and splashes of black on a completely white backdrop.  "Have a seat."

"Ty is, um, quite attractive," Imogen said, settling into a faux Louis  IV chair that Tamara had painted turquoise and reupholstered in a zebra  print, and resting her bag in her lap.

"Yeah, he is," Tamara said, somewhat surprised. Ty didn't seem like the  type Imogen would find good-looking, especially after he'd butchered her  name twelve times.                       
       
           



       

"Very . . . masculine."

Uh-oh. Tamara knew that tone and that look and she figured she might as  well nip this one in the bud. Ty and Imogen would be about as good  together as bacteria and penicillin. And she wasn't sure who would  destroy who, but it wouldn't be pretty.

"He's definitely a true driver-great reflexes, competitive . . . and  interested in young bimbos. You should see the latest he's been dating.  If that one could string three words together, I'd be stunned."

"Oh, really?" Imogen looked disappointed. "Why do men do that?"

"I don't know. Because it's easy? No danger of hurt feelings? I have no idea."

The wheels in Imogen's very intelligent head seemed to be turning, so  Tamara changed the subject back to work. "So about the summer . . . I'm  scheduled to teach three courses."

Ten minutes later, she had shown Imogen out the front door, satisfied  that they could continue their mutually beneficial working relationship  over the summer. No one was in the family room, so trying not to worry,  Tamara went into the kitchen.

Petey was sitting at the table eating spaghetti. Elec was putting an  aluminum dish into the oven, his behind looking mighty nice in his jeans  when he bent over.

"Wow, you're eating," she said to Petey, feeling a little flustered at  the domestic scene laid out in front of her. Her husband had never put  anything in the oven, ever, and the fact that Elec did so easily was a  little unnerving. "Where's your sister?"

"I'm hungry," Petey said, like that was an obvious reason for eating,  which she supposed it was. He slurped up a noodle. "This is good."

"Hunter's in bed," Elec said. "She was worn out and wanted to lie down,  so I figured this time of night, might as well put her in her bed so you  don't have to move her later."

"She let you put her to bed?" Tamara was amazed. Hunter wasn't an easy kid to settle down at night.

"Yep. She was just about asleep by the time I left the room."

"Oh. Wow. Thanks." Tamara rubbed her temples. "I'll just run up and check on her."

"Dinner should be ready by the time you get back," Elec said with a smile.

Tamara walked out of the room, fighting the urge to run. She didn't  understand the chaos of feelings she was experiencing. Anxiety, anger,  longing, pleasure . . . they were all swirling around inside her and she  didn't know how to deal with any of them.



When she got to Hunter's bedroom, her daughter was indeed already asleep  under her checkered flag comforter. Inhaling the lingering scent of  rubber, Tamara stared in the dark at her baby, her mouth open on a  silent snore, and wondered what the hell she was doing.

This wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to keep her  relationship with Elec, which was supposed to revolve solely around sex,  separate from her children. In one night, he had shattered that  compartmentalization and questioned her very ability to have that kind  of secretive affair anyway. She was too apt to get attached to think  that she could have a sex-only fling and not be affected. Already she  was feeling jealous of women like Crystal.

In the hallway she heard Petey coming up the stairs loudly, telling Elec  some kind of fact about cockroaches being able to survive a nuclear  war. Tamara leaned on the door frame of Hunter's room, glancing over her  shoulder as they walked past her to Petey's room. Elec reached out and  brushed his hand across her waist and the small of her back and she  clenched her fists in her armpits, fighting back tears that had suddenly  popped into her eyes.

This was too much. This was too much a reminder of what she'd lost.  Hell, it was a reminder of what she'd never had. Pete had been a great  guy who had loved his family, but by no means had he been hands-on. She  could count on her hand the number of times he had tucked his children  into bed. Which was why it always struck her as interesting that doing  so was one of Petey's primary memories of his father.

"Meet you in the kitchen, okay?" Elec whispered to her.

"Okay. Good night, Petey," she called to her son.

"Night. Love you." He waved from the door of his room, popping his head  in and out and grinning. Clearly he was bouncing right back from being  sick.

"Love you, too."

When Petey disappeared into his room, she was left standing alone with Elec, his intense stare on her in the moonlit hall.

"I'll be down in a minute," he said in a gravelly voice.

"Good."

Because they clearly needed to talk.

After he kissed her.                       
       
           



       





CHAPTER TE


ELEC walked into the kitchen, not sure what his reception was going to  be. Tamara had pulled the lasagna out of the oven and put it on two  plates on the table. She had opened a bottle of red wine and poured one  glass. Next to the other plate was a bottle of beer, which stupidly  touched him. She remembered that he didn't drink wine.