"Beatrice is telling her uncle she will get married only when God makes men out of something other than dirt." A little harsh perhaps, but having briefly tried online dating, Imogen could see where she was coming from.
"Ah. A man hater."
That took Imogen aback. "Man hater? I don't think that's entirely true."
"Of course it is. She is lumping all men together, calling them all dirt, not giving any guy a chance. And probably walking around with a sour look on her face all the time and a big old chip on her shoulder, so she gets negative attention from men, which in turn pisses her off more and convinces her that her theory
is right." Ty nodded. "Man hater."
Imogen was speechless for a second, horrified at the realization that while Ty's explanation was simplifying the situation, he might actually have a point. Beatrice had a wicked tongue and was almost always on the attack.
"I think you've just shattered my entire perception of Much Ado About Nothing ."
"I wasn't trying to shatter anything. But it's pretty obvious the chick is bitter because guys aren't knocking down her door."
"How do you know they aren't knocking down her door?"
Ty gave her a long look of disbelief. "Come on. If they were, she wouldn't be so bitchy. Am I right?
She's spending Saturday night with her BFF instead of getting some action, right?"
"Well, it's usually her cousin, actually. And you have to consider the context. A woman at the time couldn't just sleep around without serious consequences."
He scoffed. "Yeah, like that ever stopped anybody. Just ask any senator." Imogen laughed. "True." Then since she was curious and he didn't appear to be leaving her car at any time, she asked, "But why are you asking about marriage in the first place? Are you thinking of proposing to Nikki?"
His reaction was so extreme it was comical. His face went into a series of contortions and his hand came out. "No. No, no, no. She brought it up, which means she is way more into this relationship than I thought, which means I have to break up with her, which I hate to do, because I don't like hurting anyone's feelings. But the truth is, Nikki and I have nothing in common. Except for one thing, really."
"Sex?"
Ty grinned. "Yeah. I love that you just threw it straight out there." Well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out, and Imogen, while considering herself shy, had always been curious enough to be direct with people. She got more information that way and, most of the time, was unable to resist the urge to pry a little in her quest to understand the people around her.
"It seemed logical to me that sexual attraction was what drew you to each other." He shot her a funny look, like he was trying to read her expression and couldn't. "Yeah, that always seemed to work out pretty well for us. As for conversation or hanging out together, well, we were always stumbling a bit there, you know? So why the hell she thinks she wants to be stuck with me day in, day out in a marriage is beyond me."
Imogen thought it was damn obvious. Nikki wanted the prestige and money of being a race car driver's wife. But it seemed incredibly rude to point that out to Ty, especially if he hadn't figured it out on his own already. "Maybe she's in love with you."
Ty gave a laugh and stuck his index finger out at her. "Now that's funny. That girl has more genuine affection for her shoes than for me."
She couldn't tell if he was just stating a fact, or if it bothered him that Nikki wasn't emotionally invested in him. So she made light of it. "Good shoes are really hard to find."
"Look at you, calling up your inner smart-ass." Ty grinned at her. "I like that from you."
"Well, it's true." Imogen smiled back at him. "When you're shoe shopping, there are all these choices but it's so hard to find the perfect pair. They don't match your outfit right, or they're too casual or too dressy, or they're out of your price range. The store is out of your size, or they pinch your toes or rub your heels or give you blisters or make your feet sweat. The heel is too high or too low, or they make your ankles look fat."
"You're scaring me," he said. "This only goes to show that women spend far too much time worrying about a whole lot of nothing."
She wanted to laugh, but she wasn't finished making her point, so she added, "It's important because shoes affect the way a woman feels when she steps out of her house. No single pair of shoes covers the gamut of outfits in your closet. Not even close. So you need at least a half-dozen pairs to cover most of what you wear on a daily basis. Which makes me wonder if women should do the same with men. Have a different one for each of her moods."
The laugh that Ty gave was full and genuine and made Imogen smile back at him.
"Now there's an idea," he said. "So what mood would I be? Casual Friday?" No, he would be for the days when she wanted to play porn star, but she wasn't about to say that out loud. "I imagine it depends on the woman who might want to wear you." She didn't mean that to be suggestive, but the moment the words left her lips, she knew it would sound that way, and it did. Ty's eyes darkened and his eyebrow went up.
Imogen spoke again before he could because she wasn't sure she was prepared to hear what might come out of his mouth. "I think that for Nikki, you would be her high heels. What she wants to wear when she wants attention and to feel good about herself."
Maybe that wasn't true. After all, what did she really know about Nikki and her true emotions and motivations? But given what Imogen had seen and heard from the girl, she thought she was fairly accurate in her assessment. Nikki was using Ty for fame and fortune. Imogen wanted him to recognize that at the same time she didn't want him to suffer hurt feelings.
"I can see that," he said slowly. "I know exactly why Nikki is involved with me. It's for my money and her share of the racing spotlight. It doesn't exactly bother me because I know it is what it is, and I am not in any danger of falling in love with her." His knee bumped Imogen's when he shifted in his seat. "But the truth is, I want to be some woman's work boots, not her high heels."
"Work boots?" What was sexy about that? And did women have work boots?
"Yeah. You know, the boots she pulls out when she wants to get down and dirty, hiking or gardening or boating or painting the kitchen. The ones she relies on and trusts and lives her life hard and good and on her terms in. Her favorites."
Oh, my God. Imogen was having a little trouble swallowing. That was the weirdest and sexiest description of a man's role in a relationship that she had ever heard, and it suited Ty. He was weird in that she didn't really understand him and he was damn sexy, and she was mentally reminding herself that he was in fact still involved with Nikki and she absolutely could not molest him in her car in Tamara's driveway.
"But a woman doesn't feel sexy in work boots. Don't you want to make her feel sexy?"
"Of course she does. In her favorite shoes, playing or working hard, she feels strong. And feeling strong makes a woman feel sexy."
Ty touched Imogen's knee and pulled her legs slightly apart, sending a hot rush of warmth to her inner thighs.
"What shoes do you have on, Emma Jean?" He leaned over and checked out her footwear.
"Black ballet flats," she said, her voice a little raspy.
"Do you feel sexy in them?"
His hand was still on her knee, his thumb making little circles on her jeans, and it was driving her to distraction. "I feel reasonably cute when I wear them," she admitted.
Ty gave a soft laugh. "You look more than reasonably cute in them." She knew she should tell him to leave. That they were weaving into dangerous territory when he was still technically with Nikki. It was totally inappropriate and she was going to tell him that. Immediately.
No words left her mouth and they sat in her warm car, the heater cranked, the windows fogged, and the wipers rushing back and forth combating the driving rain.
"Thanks," she said, then jumped when something slammed into the hood of her car, causing the whole vehicle to rock slightly. "What the hell was that?"
Ty could honestly say he didn't give a rat's ass if a meteor had dropped onto Imogen's car, but he looked anyway. Maybe the distraction was a good thing, because he was damn close to kissing the woman sitting next to him and he knew she didn't want him to. Well, she wanted him to. That wasn't arrogance on his part, just the truth. He could read the desire in her eyes. But she didn't think he should because of Nikki. Big difference. And she was right. Just because he had made the decision to break things off with Nikki didn't mean Nikki knew that.