Stirred: A Love Story (25 page)

Garrett would have given anything to simply go back to the way he felt the night he picked her up from the restroom. Things were simple, the boundaries were clearly drawn, and he didn’t have this goddamn ache in his chest every time he remembered the look on her face. He could brush this off as their first fight, right? If he did read the same books Sage did, wouldn’t that be in there somewhere? Dropping to the couch, what happened earlier felt like more than a fight, heavier than a disagreement. She had asked for more that night they had done away with “never ever” and he’d given her more than he ever had with any other woman. They’d been out to eat. Maybe it was more like takeout, but there was a lot of cuddling on the couch, which was something. They’d planted flowers, but now she wanted even more. Well, didn’t that just figure. Every day couldn’t be a damn fantasy. He had work, things on his mind, and she didn’t seem to care. That wasn’t fair either.

“Shit,” he said out loud to Jack. “This is why, exactly why we don’t. . . oh, forget it.” Jack licked his leg and fell back to sleep. Garrett grabbed two pillows off his bed and settled on the couch for the night. There was no way he was sleeping in his bed. His sheets still smelled like her. Hell, if this was the ending it felt like, he’d have to burn the damn house down because she was everywhere.

Putting a pillow over his head, he tried to sleep and when that was no use, he opened his laptop and did what he did best—he worked.

Chapter Twenty-Five

D
riving the rental car from the airport to her parents’ house, Sage replayed the argument for what felt like the tenth time. The painful truth came out in arguments and since this had been their first one, there were probably lessons to learn. She had his attention when she was in his bed and out of his bed as long as something didn’t come up. She was on the side, that’s what he’d said, and although most of what they had said was clearly in anger, the “on the side” part stuck. She didn’t do the sidelines anymore and she didn’t wait or beg. “You see,” she told herself, pulling into her parents’ driveway, “this is why we have anchors, for this very reason.” And then she started to cry.
Damn it.
The upside, find the silver lining, Sage.
She wiped her tears and grabbed her bag out of the trunk. Taking in a breath of crisp air before she walked through the door of her parents’ home, Sage told herself she was away and she would be in beautiful Napa on Saturday. A hot air balloon ride, her solitary adventure; that’s how she liked it anyway.

He’d screwed up. By the time he had finished breakfast the next morning, things had already settled down. Kenna and George had provided additional documentation. They were doing everything they could and Garrett spoke to the inspector again, who hinted that there would “most likely” not even be an inspection, let alone an investigation. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but Garrett felt better. Until the anger and frustration subsided and he realized what he had done.

He’d known from the minute he told her he loved her that he would screw up. He couldn’t have guessed it would be this soon. The responsibility of running things, the sometimes burden of supporting what had been done for generations, had messed with his head and gotten in the way of loving her.
This is why we don’t get involved
, some stupid voice he barely recognized whispered.

Standing alone on his deck, he looked over at the flowerbed. They’d only finished half, but it looked beautiful and fresh, like her. Garrett fed Jack, dropped him off at the main house, and did one of the things he’d always committed to in life—he set out to fix his mistake.

Driving up Highway 10, he tried not to question what he was doing, where he was going. This wasn’t him. He didn’t do “gestures” as his annoying sister had put it. He’d led his entire life being practical, right and wrong, simple. He liked it that way, or at least, he thought he did until her. Until she looked at him, touched him, and filled him with things he had no idea he even needed. He’d been perfectly comfortable with his world, his work, until she came along. How was it possible that now he was more himself with Sage than he ever was without her?

Keith Urban was singing something sad and desperate from the speakers, so Garrett hit the volume and rode in silence. When he was younger, maybe ten, his dad took him for new boots. He had argued all the way to the store that the boots he had were fine. They were comfortable, he’d said, but his dad insisted it was time for a new pair. They tried on a few different styles at Millie’s Western Wear, and nothing was working until the guy with a handlebar mustache brought out a pair of handcrafted leather work boots from Rick Leighton. Rick was a local and Garrett could still remember the smell of leather when the guy crouched in front of the chair and opened the box. He slid his foot into the boots. Garrett laced them up himself, and was never the same. He may have been a kid at the time, but he grew to learn that the boots fit him like a glove because they were made by a man who knew how boots were supposed to fit. Corners weren’t cut, and right there he learned about craftsmanship. Rick still made boots, and Garrett bought three pairs a year without fail.

Sage was like his first pair of those boots. The sweet pull of her mouth, the way her eyes woke up every time he walked into a room as if he meant something to her. He never imagined meaning something to any woman, let alone a woman like her. She had five or six holes in her ears and her nail polish was nuts. She dressed in a way that made him dizzy most of the time and her legs and ass had the same effect. All of it ruined him and as he pulled off the freeway to grab another coffee, he had a sinking feeling he was never going to make it back. Back to his life before she told him she loved him, before she became more than something glittering behind the bar.

She felt so right that he hardly remembered what it was like before he was allowed to touch her, kind of like the boots. The road stretched out in front of his headlights and Garrett flipped to podcasts Kenna had loaded on his phone. Talk, at least someone else talking, seemed safe.

Sage heard the doorbell ring, both dogs bark, and continued trying to figure out seventeen down. Dylan. . . Aquinas. . . She knew it, it was right there on the tip of her brain, but instead, she kept humming Bob Dylan’s
Blowin’ in the Wind
, which was distracting. She set the newspaper down when she heard Hollis say, “Oh well, let me get her,” and then call up the stairs. Damn it, who was at the door for her? She hoped to God it wasn’t Christian, her barely-a-friend from high school, back for another round of look how gorgeous my fiancée is, because she was not in the mood. Swinging her legs around, Sage decided whoever it was could handle her red-and-pink-striped socks and the few specks of mascara below her eyes because she was still sulking. Hollis called her name again as she opened the door and went to the stairs.

“I’m coming.” She tried to find a smile, but she about fell down the stairs when she saw her sister standing next to Garrett Rye with her wide eyes and dangling wine glass.

“Sage, your friend stopped by or drove, how long did you drive, Garrett?”

His eyes were on her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter, did you hear that, little sister? This. . . man drove all day and you’ve decided to greet him in. . . Dr. Seuss socks.”

“He’s seen me in worse. What are you doing here?”

Hollis pursed her lips and slowly backed out of the entryway. Garrett said nothing, so she walked down a few more stairs, leaned against the railing, and folded her arms. He looked ruffled, tired, and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop from visualizing him in her bed.
Damn it.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have called.”

Sage remained silent.

Garrett dropped a small leather bag off his shoulder and she watched it fall.

“Are you planning on staying?”

He walked to her.

“I’m sorry.”

The heart she thought was properly broken began drumming in her chest. “For what?”

“You. . .” He looked over his shoulder as Hollis and Annabelle ducked their heads back into the living room. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Sage tilted her head and realized she was still pissed. Sure, he was standing in front of her and he’d worn the leather jacket she knew smelled like all kinds of wonderful male, but he’d hurt her, so she wasn’t in a rush to make him comfortable.

“Here’s good.”

She saw a hint of a smirk, the acknowledgment he knew she was going to make him work for it. Clearly up to the challenge, he stepped up to her.

“You invited me,” he said, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. “I should have been paying attention because that was a big deal. I was pissed about work and. . . there’s no explanation. I was an asshole and I’m sorry. You had every right to assume I’d want to go on a hot air balloon ride with you, that I’d want to meet the people important to you.”

“My family.”

“Right, your family. We are. . . together.”

“Were.”

“Sure. We
were
together. It was special, different that you wanted me to come with you. I blew it and I’m sorry. It’s gorgeous up here, by the way.”

Sage said nothing. She’d learned silence from the master.

Garrett slowly stepped up two more steps and touched her shoulder.

“I like the socks.”

“Thank you.”

He waited her out, his chest moving in and out. She could smell the coffee on his breath.

“So why the change of heart? Things aren’t as bad as you thought, so now you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy?”

“Did I ever tell you about when my dad took me to buy new boots?”

Sage shook her head, still trying for stoic and uninterested, even though his cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t reconcile his beautiful mass standing in the entryway of her parents’ home.
Who was watching the farm?

“Well, it’s a good story. I’ll tell you and”—he looked over his shoulder again—“your sisters sometime, but right now, I drove up here because I love you and I want in on your adventures.”

“And that you’re sorry.”

“Yeah, that too. I
am
sorry.” His smile reached his eyes and he played with her dangling starfish earrings.

“They’re not all adventures, and I love you too.”

Their eyes met. “It’s all an adventure with you, Sage.”

She had tried to keep it together, put him in his place, act cold even, but she simply wasn’t that woman so she jumped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him. She would have let him take her up against the wall if only to finally have a story to tell Kenna, but her father came around the corner and asked Garrett if he wanted a beer.

Chapter Twenty-Six

I
t was still dark when they left for Napa the next morning, armed with a Thermos full of hot coffee and a blanket. It was her hot air balloon ride and not only had she invited him, her excitement was contagious. He found himself wanting everything she wanted for this bottom drawer that seemed so important. He checked his phone once and then shut it off.

Garrett had never considered himself an artsy guy, but standing in that grass field in the early hours with her, he was sure he could have written a song or a poem, maybe even painted a canvas. Sage wore a multicolored sweater, which she informed him was a poncho. The morning was cold enough for him to put his hands in his coat pockets and stood in contrast to the surge of open flame warming the air inside the huge rainbow balloon lying on its side. Garrett had been to Napa a few times, even did a wine tour once, but he’d never been in a hot air balloon. It was strange, he thought, that he had never even considered if he wanted to go for a balloon ride. Now, holding her hand, her smile was brighter than the flame, he’d never wanted anything more. Love was dizzying that way.

As the basket tipped upright with the now-inflated balloon above it, Garrett wondered if he should be nervous. He wasn’t sure how these things worked or what to expect, but the guy helped Sage into the basket first and when she held out her hand for him, he knew he was a goner. He couldn’t think of a place he wouldn’t follow her to.