Hard and Fast
Maybe even veering toward angry. Determined not to leave it on that note, Ty reached over and pulled out the first book in her bag he could get a grip on. “Can I borrow this?” he asked.
    She gave him a funny look.
    Ty wondered what the book was, given the incredulous expression on her face. All he could tell was that it was the one with a couple on the front of it, but he couldn’t read the title. Great, it was probably a romance novel. But he had been thinking he would take it, have his assistant order it on audio, then he could discuss the book with her. Show Imogen he could participate at her level, have a decent conversation.
    So he just brazened through. “I’ve been wanting to read this,” he drawled.
    “Really?” Her voice dripped with doubt.
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Okay. Enjoy.”
    She actually opened the door then, so he had no choice but to climb out of the car. Ty brushed his legs against hers when he stood up, but she moved backward out of the way. He handed her the car keys and kissed her forehead. “I’ll give it back to you in a couple of days.”
    “Sure.”
    “Good night.” He gave her a smile, hoping for one in return, but she just blinked up at him behind her glasses.
    Ty turned and started up his driveway, envisioning a night spent in the shower with a glob of conditioner and his hand to ease some of the tension he was feeling. It was a poor substitute for Imogen in his bed, but sending her home was the right thing to do. Painful, but necessary. Like a root canal. Definitely the right thing to do.
    Her voice came calm and even behind him. “You do realize that in us attempting to avoid post-sex awkwardness all we have achieved is pre-sex awkwardness?”
    Or not. Wincing, he stopped and turned, but Imogen was already in the car and slamming the door shut. In another ten seconds she was peeling out of his driveway like a circuit pro, and he was feeling a little deflated in more ways than one.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    “ OH , my God, I’m sweating like a pig eating soup,” Suzanne said to Imogen as she did a near jog on the treadmill.
    Despite her doubts that pigs actually ingested soup, Imogen sympathized. She was sporting wet circles under the armpits of her T-shirt, and she was having serious trouble breathing as she tried to keep up with the pace of her own machine. “I . . . am . . . really out of shape,” she told Suzanne, sucking in air to her oxygen-deprived lungs. “I used to walk all the time living in New York and now I just sit at my desk or in my car.”
    “I’ve never been in shape,” Suzanne said. “I’ve just always had naturally good genes so I looked decent even if my lung capacity sucked. But since I turned thirty, it’s all starting to head south, and I don’t mean Florida, honey.”
    “I don’t think anything is shifting on me, per se, but I suspect there are small children with greater muscle strength than me.” Imogen tried to ignore the burning in the backs of her legs as she walked. Jogging was completely out of the question. “You know it’s sad to say, but I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the book. It says in order to be date ready for the man of your dreams, you have to exercise, drink water, and have a balanced diet.”
    “I can’t believe you’re actually going to follow those steps. It all sounds silly to me.”
    “Yeah, well, that is the point. To determine if it’s possible to follow guidelines in order to meet and marry a driver, or if it is simply left to the vagaries of human beings. Are there truly dos and don’ts in relationships? Or can anyone fall in love and marry for any reason at any time, essentially breaking the rules?” Imogen wheezed and tried to slow down her walking pace. That had been too many words to manage while her body was under severe strain.
    “Well, I think there are definitely nos to dating. I mean, you can’t pick your nose when you meet a man and expect that he’ll fall head over heels for

Similar Books

Reckless & Ruined

Bethany-Kris

Mercy Me

Margaret A. Graham

Committed

Alycia Taylor

Ripley Under Water

Patricia Highsmith

Lovers' Vows

Joan Smith