No, he would be for the days when she wanted to play porn star, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud. “I imagine it depends on the woman who might want to wear you.”

She didn’t mean that to be suggestive, but the moment the words left her lips, she knew it would sound that way, and it did. Ty’s eyes darkened and his eyebrow went up.

Imogen spoke again before he could because she wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear what might come out of his mouth. “I think that for Nikki, you would be her high heels. What she wants to wear when she wants attention and to feel good about herself.”

Maybe that wasn’t true. After all, what did she really know about Nikki and her true emotions and motivations? But given what Imogen had seen and heard from the girl, she thought she was fairly accurate in her assessment. Nikki was using Ty for fame and fortune. Imogen wanted him to recognize that at the same time she didn’t want him to suffer hurt feelings.

“I can see that,” he said slowly. “I know exactly why Nikki is involved with me. It’s for my money and her share of the racing spotlight. It doesn’t exactly bother me because I know it is what it is, and I am not in any danger of falling in love with her.” His knee bumped Imogen’s when he shifted in his seat. “But the truth is, I want to be some woman’s work boots, not her high heels.”

“Work boots?” What was sexy about that? And did women have work boots?

“Yeah. You know, the boots she pulls out when she wants to get down and dirty, hiking or gardening or boating or painting the kitchen. The ones she relies on and trusts and lives her life hard and good and on her terms in. Her favorites.”

Oh, my God. Imogen was having a little trouble swallowing. That was the weirdest and sexiest description of a man’s role in a relationship that she had ever heard, and it suited Ty. He was weird in that she didn’t really understand him and he was damn sexy, and she was mentally reminding herself that he was in fact still involved with Nikki and she absolutely could not molest him in her car in Tamara’s driveway.

“But a woman doesn’t feel sexy in work boots. Don’t you want to make her feel sexy?”

“Of course she does. In her favorite shoes, playing or working hard, she feels strong. And feeling strong makes a woman feel sexy.”

Ty touched Imogen’s knee and pulled her legs slightly apart, sending a hot rush of warmth to her inner thighs.

“What shoes do you have on, Emma Jean?” He leaned over and checked out her footwear.

“Black ballet flats,” she said, her voice a little raspy.

“Do you feel sexy in them?”