"I do," he assured her. "And I'm sorry things didn't work out. I hope you and Strickland have fun tonight."
Nikki's face brightened. "We will. Thanks."
Then she nudged Jonas to get out of the car, which he did with a speed and dexterity that defied his rather bulky frame, and Nikki followed.
Suddenly Ty was alone again in the car with Imogen, who was frowning.
"God, I'm sorry about that," he said, feeling downright sheepish.
She just waved her hand like it was irrelevant. "It's okay. But I find it incredibly curious that Nikki would want to marry you."
Ty laughed, at the same time he hoped she hadn't meant that exactly how it had sounded. "Wow. Way to stroke my ego there."
The corner of her mouth turned up. "That's not what I meant. It just surprises me that in this day and age young women still think they need to be married to feel a sense of completion."
"I don't get it either," he told her with all honesty. He truly didn't understand why some women seemed to feel their self-worth was tied to being with a man. Especially one like him. He was always on the go, restless, inclined to make a joke when it wasn't appropriate, and not exactly what anyone could call an emotional anchor for a woman.
Which was why he had thought that casually dating Nikki made sense.
Only now he knew that wasn't what he wanted, yet was he really ready for a real, committed, mature relationship?
He didn't know, and wasn't even sure why he was asking himself that question. It wasn't like it was an option at the moment anyway.
"And that they're willing to just latch on to the first guy who shows interest in them whether he's a total loser or not, it just baffles me."
"You know," Ty said to Imogen as he wondered how many more slams he could be expected to take in one conversation. "It really sounds like you're insulting me." And he was having one crazy-ass kind of day. He hadn't seen any of this going down when he'd crawled out of bed that morning, that was for certain.
But she just looked at him. "I'm not insulting you. I'm speaking theoretically, not about you specifically.
I'm sure you have many qualities that make you an excellent candidate for a serious relationship, but it doesn't take a genius to see that your cup doesn't exactly overflow with love for Nikki." She pushed up her glasses to emphasize her point, and at the same time Ty thought he'd never heard any woman speak quite as strangely as Imogen did, he found her incredibly cute. Like, so adorable that he wanted to kiss the tip of her nose.
He didn't actually do it. He just grinned wryly. "No, it wasn't love flowing out of my cup, that's for sure."
"Is that a sexual innuendo?" she asked, looking curious.
"Do you want it to be one?" He couldn't tell from her expression at all.
"It's not a matter of whether I want it to be or not. I am just curious as to the exact intent of your words."
Ty thought about being a smart-ass, but then again, he was intrigued by a woman wanting to understand exactly what he had meant. Being dyslexic and unable to read at a functional level, Ty was always conscious of the meaning and mystery of words. He was addicted to audiobooks and found the flow of language in novels fascinating and wished he could see and read them for himself. That Imogen was looking at him and wanting to hear the true intent behind his words gave him pause.
So he answered her truthfully. "I'm uncomfortable with this whole situation. So it was meant to be a crack at myself, that no, it wasn't love leaving my body whenever I was with Nikki but something else entirely." And beyond that, he wasn't spelling it out. He had a few gentlemanly tendencies instilled by his Southern mother, and he wasn't saying "ejaculation" to a woman he barely knew.
"That's what I thought," she said. "But I wanted to confirm it." Ty laughed. "Why?"
Now she blushed. "Because I'm just incredibly curious all the time. I want to know everything about everything. I like clarity and I ask endless questions. I know it's annoying. I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to apologize for. And I see curiosity as a sign of intelligence." She looked at him in surprise. "I think it is, too." Then she blushed deeper. "Not that I'm calling myself intelligent. I mean, I'm not stupid but I'm no Einstein, that's for sure."
"I think you probably do alright," he told her. "Given that you're getting a graduate degree." A thought had just occurred to him. "And you're clearly smarter than me, because not only did the girlfriend I was planning to break up with make out with another guy in front of me, but she also left me stranded here." For the first time since he'd ditched Nikki and escaped onto the porch, he felt real annoyance.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't have my car here. Nikki picked me up, and she drove because she lives in the opposite direction from my place to here. So now I've got no way to get home."
"I can drive you."
"You don't have to do that." He didn't want her to feel obligated, but he really did want her to. Not to mention he wanted to kiss her, dipping his tongue inside his mouth and running his hands all over her petite body. "I can get a cab."
"Where do you live?"
"Mooresville."
"Well, that's on my way, then. It's not a problem at all for me to drop you off."
"Okay, thanks, Emma Jean. I appreciate it." Ty smiled at her, slowly, enjoying the way her cheeks went pink and she broke eye contact. She was just as attracted to him as he was to her, and he was going to get his kiss before the night was over. A simple kiss wouldn't break his newfound conviction to steer clear of casual sex for a while.
"Should we tell Tamara and Elec that we're leaving? I hate to be rude."
"Does it really matter?" he asked, thinking he didn't really give a shit. He'd call Elec or text him on the way home.
"I just feel so terrible. Here I've been missing half the night . . . Elec knows I was outside with you. I'd hate for any rumors to get started. That's not fair to you." Now he really didn't give a shit if anyone thought he was making a move on Imogen because the God's honest truth was that he was. But it clearly was worrying her, so he said, "It's still pouring outside. I'll run back in and tell them we're leaving. You wait here."
"No, I'll go with you."
"What is the sense in both of us getting soaked all over again?"
"I don't mind getting wet."
"There are all kinds of wet, and some are better than others," Ty told her, unable to resist.
Her eyes went wide behind her glasses and she dug her fingernails into her thighs. "That was a sexual innuendo."
"Yep. Sorry, I couldn't resist. And you tell me which wet is more fun . . . getting nailed by rain or just getting nailed?"
He should shut up. Quit tweaking her. But it was warm and humid in her small car, and she was so close
to him that he could smell the dampness of her skin, see the way her hair was drying in tiny wisps above her ear, hear the catch of her breath behind her teeth. Ty was intrigued by her in a way he hadn't been by a woman in a long, long time. He wasn't sure what he expected her to say, but he was almost certain he would enjoy her answer.
"Well, I think, inarguably, unless someone is suffering from a sexual dysfunction, that most people would prefer the wetness of arousal to the wetness of a cold rain." Ty laughed. Yep, he liked that answer. "Which do you prefer?" he teased her.
Imogen didn't stop to think about the ramifications of her words. She just spoke honestly, "Oh, arousal.
Undoubtedly."
The look on his face told her she was playing with fire. He wasn't just having a casual conversation where they were making sociological observations. He was flirting with her and she had known it all along. From the minute he'd spoken to her on the porch.
Now they were alone in her car, he was suddenly single, she had offered to drive him home from Tamara's, and they were discussing sexual lubrication.
Often throughout her twenty-eight years, her mother had told her that her curiosity and innate honesty were going to get her in trouble, and if winding up naked in bed with Ty McCordle was trouble, Imogen had the feeling that was precisely where she was headed. Interesting that she didn't seem to be running from said trouble, but was actually leaning closer to the source.
"Should we test your theory?" he asked, his hand snaking over and resting on her knee, his thumb caressing in a small circle. "Get you wet both ways and see which one you enjoy more?" Imogen swallowed. She was no sexual novice. In fact, in college she'd had quite a hot and heavy affair with a grad student, and considered herself fairly well versed in male mating techniques-aka pickup lines-but she'd never had anyone throw it out there in such an obvious way as Ty did. At least she thought it was obvious. It occurred to her she should verify that before she misinterpreted, given her lack of experience with men like him.