Hard and Fast (17 page)

Ty chose to ignore that since he was in a hurry. “And see if you can get me some kind of study guide or Cliffs Notes to go with it.”

“That might be tricky on audio, Ty.”

He wanted to sigh, but he didn’t. Sometimes it was just damn irritating to not be able to read. “I know, but please try.”

“Okay, I will. So you need this before you board?”

“Yep.”

“I’d better hurry then. Anything else?”

“Yes.” Ty glanced at the clock in his kitchen, winced, and sprinted toward the garage. He shouldn’t have lingered over breakfast with Imogen. “I need to cancel everything on the schedule for Monday and Tuesday.”

“
What?
” Toni shrieked at him.

“You heard me. And book me a campsite at Lake Norman for Monday night.”

“I can’t do that. You can’t just cancel everything.”

“Is there anything vital? Any sponsor events? Charity appearances?”

There was a big long pause, then Toni admitted, “No.”

“Then a man is entitled to take twenty-four hours off once in a great while. I usually work seven days a week during the season. I can miss one lousy Monday.”

Toni sighed as Ty hopped into his car, tossing his duffel bag on the passenger seat. “Fine. What kind of campsite? Are you taking your coach?”

Imogen would probably love the idea of spending the night in the tricked-out motor coach that he lived in every weekend at the various tracks he raced, since given the amount of time he spent on the road, his coach was almost as comfortable as his house. But that wasn’t what he had in mind for Imogen—he wanted a simple, stripped-down experience with her. “No, tent camping.”

“You haven’t done that in a while. Are you going alone?”

“No. And get a site as remote as possible.” He didn’t want to share Imogen’s company with a crowd of neighbors.

“Do you think that’s a good idea with Nikki? She’s not really the outdoorsy type from what I can tell.”

Peeling out of his driveway, he told her, “I told you Nikki and I broke up. I’m taking someone else camping.”

“Wow, that’s a two-day turnaround from one girlfriend to the next. Impressive.”

Ty rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him. “Thank you. Though I can’t really call her my girlfriend. Yet.” He would like to, though, and that surprised him. He hadn’t thought he was in the market for a more serious relationship, but Imogen had him thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts.

“Alright, let me off this phone so I can run around and do all this extra work you just dumped in my lap with no warning.”

It was a good thing she did her job without complaining. Ty grinned. They did work well together, despite her grousing and his protesting. “Thank you, gorgeous. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Sure you will. I wait with bated breath for that. Please.” But then she ruined the bite of her remarks by adding, “And if I can’t find the notes for
Much Ado
on audio, just call me and I’ll walk you through the story. I’ve always been fond of old Will.”

Ty was touched by that and he smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate it. You are a dream, Toni.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

 

 

 

“
OH
, boy,” was Tamara’s opinion when Imogen admitted to her two friends she had slept with Ty.

“You shitting me?” Suzanne asked. “Was he any good?”

They were in a Mexican restaurant that had beco me their favorite haunt for cheesy food and the occasional margaritas. Tamara looked worried, Suzanne gleefully pleased.

Imogen sucked down her drink nervously and nodded. She had felt compelled to share her night with Ty with her friends, but now she felt strangely uncomfortable that she had.

Suzanne grinned. “Like he took you to regions on the passion chart previously uncharted good, or like taking a bubble bath kind of good? You know, relaxing and satisfying, but not something you’re going to remember a week later.”

Clearing her throat, she willed herself not to blush. “The first one.”

Now Suzanne laughed. “Yee haw. That’s what I’m talking about. So, what is he like? Is he hung?”

“Suz!” Tamara protested, dropping her fork onto her plate. “I don’t think that’s any of our business.”

“Why not?” Suzanne looked unfazed.

Imogen didn’t really want to discuss Ty’s penis size with her friends, but she had to admit, Suzanne’s enthusiasm for the event was helpful. She was feeling a little strange about their night together herself. She was so glad she had experienced what she had with him, and she had enjoyed herself immensely, both physically and emotionally. Which was the crux of her concern.

She liked Ty.

She always had.

Even when she had tried to convince herself she was just physically attracted to him, she had known all along that she had a bit of a crush on him.

Now that she had gotten, well, down and dirty with him, that crush had amplified, and that scared her.

Ignoring her enchiladas, Imogen sighed. “It was so, so good. I think that’s a bad thing.”

“Why, sweetie?” Tamara asked, looking concerned. “I think it would be bad if the sex sucked, but good sex shouldn’t be a bad thing, right?”

“Not in my book,” Suzanne said.

Imogen didn’t answer right away, and Tamara said, “You like him too much, don’t you? This isn’t casual for you, is it?”

Yikes. “Of course it is,” she protested. “I mean, where would it go? He’s a race car driver who likes being outdoors; he’s impulsive, reckless. I’m methodical, logical, addicted to air-conditioning. It would never work, and I know that. I just wanted to do it anyway, and I think that was a miscalculation on my part. Because now I know what sex with him is like. And it’s amazing.”

“Why? What’s he doing exactly?” Suzanne turned to Tamara. “I bet he’s hung.”

Tamara smacked Suzanne on the arm. “Whether a man is hung or not isn’t the only thing necessary to have amazing sex with him.”

“Are you saying Elec isn’t hung?” Suzanne asked.

The expression on horror on Tamara’s face actually made Imogen smile.

“Of course he is,” Tamara said. Her hands came up to indicate size before she quickly dropped them. “It . . .
he
keeps me very happy.”

Now Suzanne and Imogen were both laughing.

“Anyway,” Tamara said, waving her hand around. “This isn’t about me and Elec. This is about you and Ty. I don’t think you can assume that future sex is ruined for you. Just look at this way—if Ty could give that to you, so can some other man. He opened a sexual door for you, and that’s a positive outcome.”

“You going to do it again with him?” Suzanne asked, studying her carefully.

“She just said she isn’t,” Tamara said.

“No. I didn’t. And yes, I actually am.” Imogen took another massive sip of her drink.

“I knew it,” Suzanne said triumphantly.

“You are?” Tamara asked in disbelief. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Since when does being wise come into play when you’re coming?” Suzanne asked. “The girl got her freak on and she wants to do it again. No mystery there.”

“Yeah, but if she’s worried about getting emotionally involved with him, seeing him again might not be the best thing to do.”

Suzanne looked like she could care less about that. “So when are you seeing him again? Are you just going to his place to do the nasty or what?”

“He’s taking me camping on Monday.”

“Camping? That sounds like fun. I like camping.”

“I don’t,” Imogen said. “At least, I don’t think I do. I’ve never been in a tent in my life, unless it was the catering tent at a garden party.”

“So why are you going, then?” Tamara asked.

“We made a deal. I’ll go camping if he reads
Much Ado About Nothing
.”

“And he agreed to that?” Suzanne asked skeptically. “I’d watch him, if I were you. He’ll haul your ass out into the woods and never pick up that play and read it. You get play payment up-front.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Imogen protested. “Would he?”

“I think it sounds kind of, I don’t know, romantic,” Tamara said. “Like he’s trying really hard to impress you and to find common ground with you.”

Suzanne’s opinion of that was clear from the height of her eyebrows. They had disappeared under her side-swept blond bangs.

But Imogen was inclined to agree with Tamara. At least that’s what the soft and foolish pounding mass in her chest wanted to believe. It was stupid, she knew that. She was, to be highly over-dramatic, which she never was but for once just needed to be, at risk for having Ty drive his race car over her heart and grind her into the asphalt.

The knowledge of that didn’t seem to be stopping her.

“Aside from all of that, which is confusing enough, I have thoroughly ruined my thesis,” Imogen said. “I was supposed to be following the
Six Steps
, or at least attempting the initial steps to see if I could secure interest from a driver.”

“I think you secured interest all right.”

That was true. “Yeah, but that wasn’t from following the rules. I think I’ve broken about every single one with Ty.”

“And the goal with Ty isn’t to marry him,” Tamara said.

True, but did she have to point it out so baldly?

“Of course not.”

“What are these stupid six steps anyway?” Suzanne asked. “I’ve been sweating my ass off at the gym with you and I haven’t even heard the rest of them. If they’re cracked, I’m not doing them.”

“Okay, well, Step One is getting date ready. Step Two is meeting him. Step Three is your first date. Four is getting in good with his friends and maintaining your own life. Five is adding intimacy and becoming exclusive. Six is letting him know he can’t live without you.”

Tamara and Suzanne both stared at her. “That’s it?” Suzanne asked. “That’s supposed to snag you a husband?”

“That sounds sort of like how every relationship goes to me,” Tamara added. “Those aren’t steps you can control either, I might add.”

While Imogen agreed that the whole concept of a dating manual securing any woman eternal bliss in marriage was far-fetched, she did think that at least the steps were practical. “Of course you can. I think that is actually the success of the book. These are all normal dating and mating behavior patterns, but this book gives women control, whether it’s an illusion or not. Before you even meet him, you diet and exercise, check your wardrobe, etc. You learn about stock car racing, which is both his passion and his career. You learn about him. So when you do finally have the chance to meet him, it’s allowing you to put your best foot forward to secure his interest.”

“You didn’t do that with Ty?”

“Not so much,” Imogen admitted.

“Yeah, but he’s digging you.”

“I don’t think that’s my point,” Imogen said, feeling a little exasperated with her whole thesis in general, men in particular. “My point is perhaps that the success rate is higher if you go into a relationship more methodically than impulsively. So I slept with Ty. That is not going to result in marrying him. If I had done it per these directives, maybe I would be at some point.” Saying that out loud made her a little hot in weird places, and she instantly regretted those words coming out of her mouth.

But her friends didn’t seem to think it was odd. They both just looked puzzled and unsure.

“I don’t know . . .” Tamara said. “I met Elec by accident, when I was tipsy drunk on a date with another man, frantic because I’d lost my purse. Not exactly my best foot forward, and yet we had sex that first night, again not following these rules, and we’re doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“And I would argue that Ryder and I followed those rules to the letter and we’re divorced, so go figure.”

“Which all really means that my thesis just sucks,” Imogen said, feeling torn between wanting to scream and wanting to burst into tears. “It’s a big, complicated mess and I don’t know how to fix it.” She had never screwed up a paper or project so badly in her entire academic career, and to do it now, with the mother of all projects, her thesis, was inconceivable.

“Well,” Tamara said. “I think part of the problem is there is no way to accumulate enough data to prove or disprove your theory if you’re the only one attempting to follow the rules. I think you need to approach it from a different angle. You need to become the Myth Buster of Sociology and question, is this true or not true?”

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.”