Hard and Fast (Fast Track #2)(3)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Truth was, he shouldn’t have let things go on nearly as long as they had. He’d known from jump that she wasn’t even remotely close to his type for a long-term relationship, but he had been lonely and bored and she had been more than willing to hop into bed with him. But after a time, not even her enthusiasm could make up for the fact that the sound of her voice made every muscle in his body tense with irritation, and now he was dodging her at a damn dinner party.

It was ridiculous, and it made him feel like a pansy-ass wimp. Yet he wasn’t going back in there, was he? It was pouring down rain outside, a nice little fall thunderstorm, and the air was clear and crisp, the temperature still balmy. Ty loved the sound of the rain hitting the roof and the ground, and he leaned forward to feel the mist settle over his forearms and hands. Even if she figured out where he was, the rain would keep Nikki in the house. She wasn’t big on nature or anything that might ruin her hair, her makeup, or her shoes.

So Ty was going to stand there on the porch and take a breather, then go back into the party, say his good-byes to his friends, collect Nikki, take her home, and break things off with her. In a minute. Or two.

A light appeared in the driveway and Ty glanced over to see what it was. A car door slammed shut and the light went back out. Through the rain Ty saw someone running toward the porch, hands over her head. A thin woman with dark hair and glasses pounded up the steps, then stopped when she achieved shelter, her arms falling to her sides, her breathing heavy.

It was the woman who was some kind of assistant to Tammy at the university, the one who had the name Ty couldn’t remember or pronounce. He had seen her inside the house since there were only twenty or so people at the party, but he had avoided her. Something about her intrigued him, made him want to see if the shy and serious woman could open up and laugh, or better still, moan in pleasure, but at the same time, she made him feel stupid with her fancy education, expensive clothes, and complicated name.

At the moment he just felt sorry for her. She was taking deep breaths and almost wheezing, like the shock of having a boat-load full of rain dump on her had just caught up with her. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks and forehead, her jeans were wet clear to the knees, and her black sweater was molded to her chest. For some reason she reminded him of a puppy, startled and forlorn, and he no longer felt so intimidated by her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“It’s raining harder than I thought,” she said, pulling her clinging sweater forward off her stomach. “I think I should have waited a few more minutes. But I had to go put up my car windows, and I got trapped inside the car. I waited, and debated just leaving and going home, but not saying good-bye to anyone would be phenomenally rude, and the rain wasn’t letting up, so I went for it. I think, it’s safe to say, that was a miscalculation.”

It was a hell of an explanation that Ty heard only half of because he was so distracted by the fact that her glasses were covered in rain spots. He liked to see a woman’s eyes when he talked to her, and he was curious what color whatshername’s were. He was also curious as to how he was going to ask her yet again what her name was without sounding like the total jackass that he was. Reaching out, he lifted her frames off her face.

She jerked back with a squeak. “What are you doing?” She wiped the bridge of her nose dry then followed his hand to retrieve her glasses. “I need those.”

“I’m drying them off. You can’t possibly see anything with them waterlogged.” Ty used the bottom of his T-shirt to polish them to his satisfaction.

“Oh, thank you.”

He lifted them and guided them onto her nose.

“I can—”

Before she could finish her sentence, he had the glasses back on, frames tucked over each ear.

“Do it myself,” she said.

“Too late.” He smiled and, using the tip of his pointer finger, pushed them a little higher on her nose. “And now I know they’re blue.”

“What?” Her head tilted slightly to the side. “What’s blue?”

“Your eyes. I was wondering.” Emma Jean or Imagine or whatever the hell her name was had eyes that were unaltered by makeup, and they were big and a deep, rich blue, like denim. She smelled like rain and shampoo, her soft skin covered in a dewy sheen. He was standing damn close to her, and he was aware that he was very much attracted to her and his body knew it. That was an erection popping out to greet her.

Fortunately, she was looking at his face, not his crotch, so she didn’t know the direction his thoughts were strolling in.

She had a slight frown on her face. “Why would you be wondering what color my eyes are?”

That was a damn good question. He chose not to answer it. “You need a towel. You’re dripping.” And shivering.

“I don’t want to go in there like this.” She glanced at the front door. “I’ll track water all over the hardwood floors.”

“I can go get you a towel,” he said. Though he would have to dodge Nikki to do it, which might be difficult.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I should probably just go home and call Tamara and apologize.”

“You’re going to run back through the rain?” he said in disbelief. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s slowed down,” she insisted.

But when they looked out at the front yard and the driveway, the wind was whipping torrents of rain down at an angle. “Or not. It’s a freaking monsoon out there. You won’t have anything dry on you to even clear off your glasses when you get to your car. Can you see to drive without your glasses?”

“No.” She sighed, staring toward her car with obvious longing.

“What’s under your sweater?”

“Excuse me?” She turned so fast to stare at him that she bumped shoulders with him.

“If you’re wearing a shirt underneath, it’s probably dry. Just take your sweater off.”

“I have a cami on,” she said, biting her lip.

Ty didn’t know what the hell a cami was, but it sounded promising. “Perfect.”

She seemed to debate for a second, then she took off her glasses and handed them to him. “Hold these, please.”

“Sure.”

Then he didn’t even try to look away when she peeled off her sweater to reveal a little white tank top, small br**sts clinging to the fabric, her ni**les taut. Yeah, he was just full of brilliant ideas. Nothing like telling the woman to strip off clothing when he was standing on his buddy’s front porch in full view of a dinner party.