Stirred: A Love Story (18 page)

He tried not to laugh, but that was some title, and it explained why things had been so strange lately. He wasn’t sure if he should tell her the book was absurd or that she was adorable for reading it.
Would that be condescending?
Damn, women were more complicated than cars. Not knowing what to do, Garrett went with not reacting at all. He took a bite and hoped his face was neutral.

“Go ahead,” Sage said, eyes now open.

“What?”

“It’s stupid I was even reading the book, but Hollis challenged me and. . . so stupid, right?”

She was smiling a little now so he went with honesty, hoping it wouldn’t bite him in the ass.

“I’m not sure naughty can be taught from a book, but good for you for giving it a shot. I’m happy you read the book.” He grinned. “Which step was I, exactly?”

“Very funny. You weren’t a step. That’s the thing, I had no intention of trying it out on you. You were already. . . I mean, I was already. . .” Sage shook her head. “I know this will come as an enormous shock, but I’ve never been great with guys. I’m not what they’re looking for.”

“I disagree with that.”

“Sure, because you’re being kind, but I don’t exactly exude a frivolous fun. Hard as I try, I tend to come across as. . .”

“Interesting?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I guess that’s a polite way to put it. My brain is usually on, and it’s hard for me to let things go and have fun.”

“I think I’m understanding. Once you told me you ‘wanted me’”—he used the air quotes and was rewarded when her cheeks turned a gorgeous rose pink—“you felt liberated and decided to jump my bones.”

She shook her head. “You’re having a good time with this.”

“I am. But I’m kidding. I think it’s great that you looked at your life and decided you wanted more.” Garrett sipped his tea. “The book’s a little silly, I’ll give you that, but since you can’t turn your mind off to be what my dad would call a floozy, maybe you could fill your drawer with other stuff.”

“Maybe.”

“You probably have a bigger bottom drawer than you realize, Sage.”

“Said the man who probably has a huge one.”

“You’d be surprised. It’s not that big.”

“Well, someday we’ll have to compare.”

Garrett smirked at the inherent naughtiness of comparing drawers and sizes and the fact that the whole thing didn’t even occur to her. Sage Jeffries was so much more than naughty and sitting with her, he became aware of his heart as it pulsed in his chest. He’d grown very fond of her lips lately, but the woman in front of him woke up a part of him he wasn’t sure how to control.

“So, should we talk about this?” He gestured between the two of them.

“Honestly, have I not embarrassed myself enough? You were on your knees, Garrett.”

“I was, and I’m happy to get back down there.” He grinned, intending to make her blush, but instead found his pulse picking up at the memory of her.

“Thank you”—she gave him a smile laced with frustration—“but I’m not sure I’d be able to handle that. Ever.”

Ever? Now he was definitely confused.

“Wait, so you don’t see this leading to. . . ever?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ve felt this”—her hands flailed back and forth between them—“for a while. And even though you’re excellent at kissing me back, you haven’t felt anything. I’ll always be here, and you’ll be. . . wherever you are. If we had sex, I wouldn’t recover.”

“You’re not making sense, Sage.”

“I don't care. I didn’t think this was ever going to. . .” She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

“Now that’s a shame.” He tried to keep things light because his heart was back to thumping.

“This isn’t funny.”

“It is a little bit. We were figuring out the logistics of me taking off your panties with my teeth a few minutes ago, and now you’re all worked up and I’m not sure what’s going on. It’s funny.”

She was five shades of scarlet, and Garrett decided to change direction.

“Where is your family?” he asked as their plates were cleared. If she didn’t want to have sex with him, that was fine. They’d discuss the “never” part later, but at the moment he needed to spend more time with her. He had to be up at four-thirty, but for the first time in recent memory, he didn’t care.

“Up north, Marin County.”

“Get along with your family?”

“I do. Three sisters and Mom and Dad.”

“Where do you fall?”

“I’m number three of the four.”

His mind filled with an image of Sage as a little girl within the context of a family he’d never met. Because she was such good friends with his sister and worked with Logan, she knew so much more about his life than he knew of hers. He’d never bothered to know about her, but as she ordered green tea ice cream for dessert, he felt the need pull at him. She wasn’t pretending or trying to flirt anymore, and he found himself more attracted to her than he already was.

“What about you?”

“What about me? You know all about me.”

“That’s not true. I know what’s on the surface and what your family says about you, but it’s not like we’ve ever been on a. . . I mean, sat and had dinner. . . alone.”

“True.”

“So, do you get along with the rest of the Ryes?”

He grinned and instantly felt uneasy, not at the question, but at the realization that no one had ever asked it. Was that possible? He’d been on dates before—not many—but there’d been women. None of them quite like this.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, there’s the usual stuff, but I like both of them, so that helps.”

Her eyes sparkled. She was breathtaking when she forgot to critique herself.

“And your dad?”

Taken aback at being front and center, Garrett stuck with short and sweet answers. “Well, you’ve met him.”

“I have. He’s pretty incredible.”

“He is. I. . . Wow, I’m not sure why this is so weird for me. I guess I’m not used to talking about myself, or no one has ever asked.”

“Seriously? When you go on dates, don’t women want to know about you?”

“Sage, I’m sure you have this image of who you think I am, but I don’t normally date. I’ve gone out now and then, but all I’ve done since about nine is work.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I have Jack and my family and the crew that works the farm. I have George. You’ve met him.”

She nodded.

“And so, if we’re being all honest over the ice cream here, I’m probably not Sexy Garrett either.”

She shook her head, slowly. “Sorry, that last part is simply not true. Sexy Garrett stays,” she said with a little bit of naughty.

Yeah, they’d need to discuss the “never” part soon.

Garrett dropped her off at her car back at the farm and kissed her again under their favorite night sky. When they parted, her eyes pooled with the moonlight and in an instant, Garrett found he had a fantasy of his own.

Chapter Sixteen

“L
ook who’s here!” Paige exclaimed as Garrett, hands full of boxes, approached their spot at the Sunday farmers market the following week.

The sight of Sage hit him like sunlight on an early winter morning before the truck had warmed up and the heat turned the frost to shining droplets. The thought surprised him in both its detail and power. He hadn’t seen her for a few days because of his schedule and hers. He’d called her a couple of times and had caught her at The Yard for a few minutes. She’d texted him about getting dinner soon, but they never did. It seemed they were both comfortable being alone, but the pull to be together was getting stronger.

She looked rested, her hair was natural, the front down over her forehead, no makeup that he could see, and those lips were covered in something that made them look moist but not sticky. Wearing a light brown scarf and a white T-shirt with jeans, Sage looked beautiful in that way she alone was able to manage. He’d missed her.

He had been up to his ass in work, but he’d still missed her. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Their eyes met as she listened to Paige talk about what they were featuring at the market. She smiled, shook his father’s hand, and Garrett had that feeling again. The frequency was starting to scare the shit out of him.

“Hi there,” he finally said, helping Paige pile bundles of Swiss chard onto the table separating them.

“Hi,” Sage said with a smile that felt like it was made for him. A smile that said it would be all right if he leaned over and kissed her. Not that that was going to happen because they weren’t, well, it’s not like they were. . .
Shit!

Garrett handed over setup duties to Kenna, who was now helping Paige. He dried his hands, walked around the table, and felt a pull toward her he couldn’t stop. It made no sense; they’d barely spent time together since egg rolls. She was. . . a woman, Kenna’s friend, and she worked with his brother—that was the extent of it, he told himself, but the closer he got to her, the more he felt like he was walking into fog.

The sounds of the market became muffled noise as his hand clinched instinctively at his side, wanting to find its way to the curve of her neck and to bring her into him. His whole body was on board with that, but need was not something he was familiar with nor something he entertained—definitely not in front of his entire family. Her eyes softened as he reached her. She must have seen the emotions in his eyes because she was returning them and in that moment, all he wanted to do was kiss her and stand in the sunlight.

“Be careful they don’t put you to work,” he said and patted her shoulder. Her T-shirt was soft and her shoulder felt small under his hand.
Holy fucking shit, I’m losing my mind.

This was worse than the wooden roller coaster at Belmont Park. He suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, whether to scream or laugh. He had no idea what to do with her. Well, actually he did, lots of ideas it turned out, but this was a farmers market.

He must have been standing like a complete idiot for a beat too long because Sage’s eyes dropped and he could no longer hear Paige or Kenna. There was no way he was looking back, and the truck was behind him, so he couldn’t keep working.

“I’m. . . I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder.

As he walked away, he heard his sister, always subtle, say, “What the hell was that?”

It was a great question. One he didn’t have the answer to.

Paige ran after him. “Uncle, Uncle.” He swooped her up in his arms, thankful for something familiar.

“Why don’t I have a nickname?” The question suddenly came to him as he searched for answers.

Paige looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean? You’re Uncle.”

“I know, but I’m not Uncle Rogan or Donk or My Travis. I’m only Uncle.”

Paige nodded, as if she was following along but still didn’t see the problem. “You don’t need a name because you’re. . . you’re the first, like the original. It’s like if I look up ‘horse’ on my ’puter, there’s the main title and then all the different kinds of horses go down from there. You’re a horse, Uncle. You’re the top guy so”—she scrunched her face and Garrett could feel the lump in his throat—“you don’t got time for silly nicknames. You’re Uncle. Get it?”

His chest squeezed and for a second, it was as if a dam somewhere was about to break. Putting his face into her strawberry hair, he hugged her tight. “I do. I get it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, where are you going? We still have a lot to do and Donk never gets the radishes right.”

He laughed, setting her down. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to. . .”

“The potty?” she asked with a grin that looked like she was feeding him an answer. Was it possible he wasn’t as smart as a six-year-old?

“Yeah, that’s where I’m going. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” She slapped her hands to her jeans. “I’ll tell Auntie you went to the potty because I’m sure she wants to see you.” His niece wiggled her tiny blonde eyebrows and ran back to their tables.

Garrett sighed and hoped “the potty,” as she put it, was far enough away for him to get his shit together.

“So, Chris the lawyer sent flowers, huh? Look at you go juggling two men now. Soon you’ll be writing your own book,” Kenna teased as they walked around the market so Kenna could introduce Sage to “the frosted lemonade that will change your life.”

After seeing Garrett, she’d forgotten all about Chris and the flowers that had been delivered yesterday. She’d texted Kenna as soon as she closed the door. Getting flowers was exciting, and Sage didn’t care if texting her friend was foolish. She hoped she never grew too old for foolish.

“He left a voice mail last night.”

“Really? Have you called him back?”

“No.” She was still thinking about Garrett. Was he flustered? He seemed different; less sure of himself if that was possible. She looked over at Kenna, who was shaking her head. “What?”

“You were excited about the flowers when you texted me, remember?”

Sage nodded as they approached the frozen lemonade stand and ordered two from the young girl with the crayon-red hair wearing a threadbare The Decemberists T-shirt. She had clearly been recruited by her parents to work the market and wanted to be anywhere else.

“And now, one look from the nonlawyer, brooding farmer, and all bets are off.”