Hard and Fast(27)

Given that Tamara already had her master's degree in sociology, Imogen  was eager to listen to any advice she could give. "I guess that was my  intent originally, but I'm no longer certain how to do that." Tamara  sipped her margarita. "You interview as many driver's wives as you can.  If you interview fifty wives, you can ask pointed questions that  determine if their path to marriage even remotely resembled the rules in  that book. If you develop questions regarding their previous knowledge  of stock car racing, whether their meeting was accidental or  intentional, their first date, how long they dated before getting  engaged, etc., you can classify them as having followed the rules or  not. Check your percentages of rule followers versus non-rule followers  and call it good."

There was some merit to Tamara's suggestion. It was certainly more  logical than running around trying to flirt with men she wasn't  interested in. "Except how can I argue that the book works or doesn't  work when none of the subjects were aware of its rules to follow them or  not follow them?"

"Toss out the concept of whether or not the book itself works. The myth  you are busting, or potentially proving, is that, in the subculture of  stock car racing, there is a discernible pattern to dating and  subsequent marriage. That is the basis to the theory of the book. If  there is no pattern, how can the book work for the majority of readers? I  would assume your conclusion would be that given the uniqueness of  individuals and their courtships, there is no way to follow rules and  guarantee marriage." This was sounding more and more appealing to  Imogen. "This just might work."

"Good, because I'm glazing over from this conversation," Suzanne said.

"Sorry," Imogen said, frowning at her enchiladas. "This is just so much more stressful than I expected."

"I know and I'm sorry. I wish I could help," Suzanne said, looking a  little contrite for her remark. "And I'm sure tossing mattress play with  Ty onto all of this isn't helping your peace of mind." Then Suzanne  grinned. "But I bet it's helping other things, if not your mind." True  enough. "So what on earth do I pack to go camping?"

"Jeans. T-shirts. Boots. It's going to be hot again this week, in the eighties, so pack a bathing suit," Tamara said.

"And your tiniest, sexiest underwear," Suzanne added.

Imogen tried to picture feeling sexy on the damp ground in a tent and  could only feel a serious amount of trepidation. "Are there bugs  camping?"

Tamara and Suzanne exchanged a look. "Probably," Tamara said.

"Animals?" Were there bears in North Carolina? Imogen didn't even know.                       
       
           



       

"Maybe," Suzanne said. "But they shy away from humans. Except for  raccoons and skunks. They'll come right on up if you have food or  garbage lying around." Wonderful. "Can't wait," she said weakly.  "Everyone should be open to new life experiences, right?"

"Don't worry about the skunks," Suzanne reassured her. "Just concentrate  on the fact that if anything is going to be open, it will be your  legs."

More likely she'd be too afraid to take her clothes off, but she did appreciate Suzanne's optimism.

"I can practically hear your brain creating a list of all the things you  aren't going to like about this trip," Tamara said. "Just relax and  enjoy yourself."

"Do I know how to do that?" Imogen asked honestly.

Her friends laughed, and Suzanne actually descended into a snort.

"You enjoyed last night, didn't you?" Tamara asked.

She nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"So it's the same thing, just in a tent."

Right. Sex in a tent. No different than a bed, really. Just harder. And earthier. And buggier.

The only conclusion she could reach if she was willing to go to such  lengths to spend time with Ty was that she was seriously infatuated with  him.

And that was almost scarier than the thought of running into a bear while covered in honey.











RYDER Jefferson was heading to a preliminary meeting with his crew chief  in Martinsville when his cell phone rang. Striding across the motor  coach lot, he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it.

"Shit," was his opinion. It was his ex-wife, Suzanne. If she was calling him, it usually meant she wanted something from him.

They'd been getting along just fine lately, which was probably because  they hadn't been seeing much of each other since a dinner party incident  back in May when she'd tossed a pie in his face. He still hadn't  figured out what that was all about.

Deciding to ignore her call, he sighed when he realized she had hung up  and was calling again. Knowing Suzanne and how tenacious she was, she'd  keep calling until he answered.

"Hello, Suz, how are ya?" he said, slowing down his gait as he headed for the track.

"Are you busy?" she asked. "Do you have a minute to chat?" Well, now,  that was a good start. She was being all polite and agreeable. "Yes,  this is a fine time. Just heading to a meeting. What's up, darlin'?"

"Why didn't you answer, then?" she asked caustically.

Ryder rolled his eyes. So much for a good start. "I did answer."

"But you didn't the first time . . . Oh, never mind. I didn't call to fight."

"That's reassuring." Because when he fought with Suzanne, he always felt  like he was driving the short track blindfolded and she was the wall.

"Listen, did you know Ty is banging Imogen?"

Ryder stopped walking and stared blankly at the fence surrounding the  track. "Huh? Who's Imogen?" And why did Suzanne feel the need to tell  him she was sleeping with Ty?

"Tammy's teaching assistant. You met her at Tammy's house a few times  and at the wedding. She's become a really dear friend to me and I'm all  sorts of worried, Ryder. I think she and Ty are like oil and water, and  while she is saying the sex is freaky-deaky, I just don't know if I  should encourage this." And this involved him how? "Umm . . . Suz?"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't we have a talk about interfering in other people's love lives a  while back when Tammy and Elec were first getting it on?"

"I was right to interfere with those two. They might have kept insisting  they didn't want to date if I hadn't thrown that dinner party."

" We threw that dinner party. Then you threw a pie in my face." Apple.  He could practically still feel that sticky mess ooze down his nose and  chin and taste the sweet tartness on his lips.

"You deserved it," she said breezily. "And this isn't about you. This is  about Imogen and Ty and their happiness. We can't be letting Ty take  her for a ride. She's just not the kind of girl who is into casual sex."

Ryder rubbed his forehead, wondering if he really was supposed to give a shit who Ty was sleeping with.

If the guy had a thing for the skinny chick with the glasses, more power  to him. Ryder wouldn't have thought she was Ty's type, given that she  was pretty in a more conservative, understated way than Ty's usual  full-blown beauties, but it wasn't really any of his business. "I  believe you said Tammy wasn't that kind of girl either, and she was all  about bouncing Elec. I just think we need to let people work these  things out themselves, darlin'."                       
       
           



       

"If Ty breaks Imogen's heart, I'm going to be seriously pissed off."

"I don't imagine Ty is really taking your feelings into account, nor should he. It's his life."

"So here's what we need to do," Suzanne said as if he hadn't spoken at  all. "I need to see the two of them together and decide for myself if Ty  actually likes her or if he's just playing her, so you and I need to  have another dinner party."

The hell they did. "No. Absolutely not. It's none of our business and  I'm not taking another pie in the face to support your meddling in your  friends' love lives."





"Oh, I wasn't going to make a pie. I was going to bake a pineapple  upside-down cake." Damn her. She knew that was his all-time favorite  dessert. He paused, closing his eyes to gather his willpower. "No . . .  it's not a good idea."

"I'll bring one to the dinner party, then I'll follow up with the  dessert of your choice on the first of the month for the next three  months."

"Sold." The woman knew exactly how to manipulate him. He had a killer  sweet tooth, and Suzanne had always been able to bring him to his knees  with her amazing baked goods. It was something he should probably be  ashamed of, but it was only one dinner party, and chances were Suzanne  would do it with or without him, so he might as well reap the benefits  of cooperation.