Hard and Fast (20 page)

It wasn’t a comfortable place to sit, and the silence wasn’t helping.

He was grateful when she sat up and yawned and said, “Sorry. I’m not much of a morning person.”

“I kind of caught on to that. Maybe I shouldn’t have hauled you out of bed so early.”

“It’s okay.” She drained the remains of her coffee. “I’m good now. Are we almost there?”

“Pulling in right now.”

“It’s very beautiful,” she said, looking out the window at the huge canopy of trees on either side of the winding road. “Very green.”

That almost made Ty laugh, but he held it in. “There’s a deer family to the right.” He pointed to them.

Imogen started. “Wow. They’re big. And close to the road.” She shot him a wary look. “What other kinds of animals are there here?”

“Squirrel, deer, opossums, rabbit, foxes, maybe coyotes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing dangerous.” He wasn’t going to mention that occasionally a venomous cottonhead snake was spotted.

“Coyotes? That sounds dangerous.”

“Nah. They run as soon as they see you.” Ty made a mental note never to leave Imogen alone for the next twenty-four hours. In all his years tromping through the Lake Norman State Park, he’d never seen a coyote, and with his luck, Imogen would have a whole pack tear past her and he’d never get her back in the woods.

That thought gave him pause. Did he want to get her back in the woods? He’d reserve opinion on that until they were on their way out of the park instead of the way in, but he suspected the answer might be yes.

“Alright, we’re looking for a sign for a turnoff called Camp Lane. How original is that? If you spot it, give a yell.” Ty had been to the site before, but it had been a couple of years, and he knew he couldn’t find the turnoff on his own. He also suspected he wouldn’t be able to decipher the sign, so he’d put Imogen on the task.

“Okay. So what does one do exactly while camping?” she asked, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

Ty grinned at her. “We’re going to go hiking. Swimming. Fishing. And we’re going to make love in a sleeping bag. Or maybe on the sleeping bag. Depends how impatient we are to get to it. Does all that sound alright with you?”

“I think I can handle that,” she said briskly, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Good.” He was bemused by her. “And you’re being very polite not to ask, but I want to reassure you that I did read
Much Ado About Nothing
.” In a roundabout sort of way. “So I upheld my end of the bargain. I’m not sure I could write a term paper on it, but I think I can have a reasonable discussion with you about it.”

She smiled for the first time since he had picked her up. “Thank you. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I did.” He had to admit, it was an entertaining story. “I was right about Beatrice, you know. Total man hater. And she’s ticked at herself for what she perceives as her own personal weakness for falling in love with Benedick.”

“That’s true. She certainly fights the feeling.”

“What’s so wrong with falling in love anyway? I always imagined it was kind of a good feeling. There wouldn’t be damn near as many songs, books, and movies about it if it wasn’t.”

“I think Beatrice sees love and passion as a way in which a woman turns over control of herself and her love to a man, not a desirable thing in a time period in which women were essentially the property of their husbands.”

“That’s understandable. But fear almost causes her to spend her life bitter and alone rather than take a chance on happiness with a man. Sometimes you have to take a risk, not knowing exactly how it’s going to turn out.”

“Oh, there’s the road we need,” Imogen said, pointing to her right. “Camp Lane. And I don’t think I’m much of a risk taker.”

“Cool.” Ty pulled into a gravel parking lot and stopped the car. “No? You’re not a risk taker? I think I probably am.”

“Since you risk your life every Sunday, I would say so, yes.”

Ty shrugged. “I don’t see racing that way. Sure, you can wreck, but given all the thousands of times we all drive on a track, serious accidents don’t happen all that often. You’re probably more at risk of an injury in an accident in that piece of crap you call a car than I am in my safety-first stock car.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Imogen ran her finger along her bottom lip. “Do you think there are personality types that are truly incompatible? Like can a cautious person and a risk taker actually tolerate each other long term? Or a highly sexual person live with someone who has a low libido?”

“The first one, yes. The second one, no. If one person is wanting some action all the time and the other is constantly begging off? That’s going to be a huge source of tension.” He could say with absolute certainty that he would be really frustrated if he was with a woman who thought having sex once a month was plenty. He’d get more if he was single. Of course, the upside to a relationship was that when you did finally get around to sex, there would be intimacy along with the physical connection, but he still didn’t think he would be anything short of chronically horny and irritable if he had access to a woman but got the black flag every night.

“I think I would have to agree. One person will always feel like they’re having to ask for sex instead of sharing it freely with each other. And the person who is not highly sexual will fall into a pattern of simply giving in to the other in order to stave off the argument, which isn’t conducive to intimacy or uninhibited and enthusiastic sex.”

Ty gave Imogen a long look. “Are you trying to tell me you gave in last week to prevent an argument?”

She snorted. “Hah. If anything, it would have to be considered the other way around. I offered it even before then, and you turned it down.”

“I explained that. We’re not going there again, are we?” Because that didn’t sound like anything he wanted to bumble his way through a second time.

“No, we’re not. I said I understand and I do.” She smiled at him, a wicked gleam in her eye. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re the one with the low sex drive. We’ll just have to adjust and learn to accommodate that.”

Well, wasn’t Imogen the funny one? Ty refused to give her smug little self the satisfaction of smiling, even as he thought her wit was damn amusing. “Oh, is that right? I’m the one with the low sex drive?”

He leaned over and kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting inside her mouth as he tasted the traces of her coffee. He ransacked her, squeezing her breast with one hand as he buried the other into the hair of her ponytail. He kissed her until her glasses had fogged up from their heavy breathing, her nipples were tight buds beneath his fingers, and he would bet his career she was sopping wet in her panties.

Imogen yanked herself back from him and sucked in a deep breath. “I . . .” she panted, “was being facetious.”

“I know.” Ty grinned. “But it gave me a good excuse to feel you up.”

“I thought we had established you never needed an excuse.”

Brushing his finger over her nipple, loving the way her mouth slipped open on a breathy sigh and her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, Ty kissed a trail down her jaw. “I don’t think that we did establish that. But it’s nice to know I have the green light at any time.”

“Well.” She tipped her head a little to give him better access. “Maybe not at just
any
time.”

“No?” Ty loved the way her skin felt, smooth as satin, free of makeup, just fresh and clean beneath his lips. “What times are off-limits?”

“In the presence of other people should be off-limits. I think that covers most awkward situations that might arise.”

“But in the woods is okay?” Ty was getting hot in the car, an erection pressing hard against his jeans. There was something about the way Imogen looked at him, so intelligent, yet so trusting that he could give her pleasure, that just did him in every time and made him want to strip her and lick her from head to toe.

“I would imagine the woods are okay.”

Ty pulled back. “Then let’s set up camp, babe, before I regress to seventeen and try to nail you in the backseat.”

Imogen glanced in the backseat and just wet her bottom lip.

Fighting the urge to groan, Ty said, “No. We’re not having sex in this car. There are a million better places right on up this path, so change your shoes and let’s head for the site.”

“Why do I need to change my shoes?” she asked, pulling her backpack up from between her legs.

It was possible he might have failed to mention to Imogen that their site was so remote it wasn’t drive-up. They had to hike several miles from the car to get there. “We just need to go off-road a bit here to get to the site.” He tried to downplay it as he opened his door. “So maybe boots would be a better choice.”

Ty got out of the car before he could see her expression. If she was irritated, frankly he didn’t want to see it. He had packed light, since it was only an overnight, but between water and food and all the necessities like a sleeping bag, bug spray, and a flashlight, he was loaded heavily on his back when Imogen stepped out of the car wearing different shoes. Which, while technically could be called boots, weren’t any hardier than the little flats she’d had on. These were shiny black ankle boots and looked to cost somewhere in the hundred-dollar range. At least they were flat and appeared to have a tread.

“These were the only boots I had,” she said apologetically. “Other than my fur-lined snow boots, and I thought that was perhaps overkill.”

Ty grinned. He liked the way Imogen figured out the score immediately. She was definitely trying, despite not really knowing a damn thing about camping, and he really appreciated it. “Probably snow boots would be overkill. But I’m sorry, babe, I should have picked you up some hiking boots or given you better suggestions on packing. I hope your feet don’t start to hurt.”

“They shouldn’t.” She smoothed back her ponytail. “I wore these tromping all over the Village when I was in school.”

“Alright, well, if they do, you let me know.” Ty winked. “I’ll carry you.”

She laughed. “I think that will be completely unnecessary, but thank you. Do you need me to help with anything? You have a lot of . . . stuff on your back.”

“Could you grab that little cooler? Then just your backpack and we’re good to go.” Ty started down the path to the site. “So you went to college in New York, too?”

“Yes. NYU. I probably should have gone away from home for school to assert my independence, but it seemed a little ridiculous when there were so many quality schools to choose from in New York. I did live in the dorm, so that helped, but this little adventure in Charlotte is my first time living out of New York.”

“Do you like it here?” he asked, aware that the answer actually really mattered to him. He’d hate to think that she was going to skip out of town in a couple of months.

“I do,” she said thoughtfully. “More than I thought I would. I like the people and the slower pace. I like the trees.” She stumbled on the rough trail and grinned. “Well, I like looking at the green trees from afar and I like the idea of a tree in the yard of a pretty little house. I’m not sure how I feel about the forest here swallowing me whole. The verdict is still out on that one.”

“If you’re going to stay, you should get a better car.” Imogen’s car downright offended him, and she wasn’t safe driving around in that rattletrap.

She smiled. “Maybe. I hadn’t intended to stay here more than eighteen months.”

That meant she would possibly be leaving after Christmas, then, and he didn’t like the thought of that at all. Hell, they’d just gotten started on this whatever it was they were doing. He wanted to follow it and see where it could go.

“Charlotte’s a nice town,” he said, instead of saying anything he really wanted to, because it was too damn soon in their relationship and he would look like a total jackass if he let her know that he was already thinking beyond another night together. That he was thinking maybe they could try on dating, for real.

“Yes, it is,” she said simply.

He let it drop, knowing he would say the wrong thing if he continued the conversation.

After ten minutes of silence, Imogen was starting to huff and puff a little as they walked down the path, their boots crunching on the sticks and other debris. Ty felt a little guilty for the long hike, but then without warning, she stopped walking and just looked around her. She turned in a complete circle, gazing up at the sky, before closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

When she reopened her eyes, she was smiling in wonderment. “God, Ty, it really is beautiful, isn’t it? Everything is so verdant and alive, the sky so crisp and blue, the smells so unusual and fresh. Even the air feels different. Damp. Earthy. Thank you for suggesting this.”

She
was beautiful. She was verdant and alive, unusual and fresh. Damn, if he wasn’t struck a bit dumb by the sight of her standing there glowing with curiosity and appreciation for the world around her. “It’s a pleasure to share it with you,” he said. “And if I wasn’t hauling twenty pounds on my back, I’d show you how much more pleasurable it could be.”

Imogen laughed, and the sound sent birds scattering from the red maple behind her. The sunlight that streamed in between the canopy of leaves danced across her face, and her eyes sparkled.

Ty had no words to describe how she looked, how he was feeling.

And suddenly the meaning of the quote he had memorized from
Much Ado About Nothing
became clear.

So he said to her, “‘Silence is the perfectest herald of joy.’ ”

Imogen’s laughter died out and her hand curled into a fist on her chest. “What did you say?”

“‘Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.’ ”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Act Two, Scene One. Claudio describing his joy in being with Hero.”