Stirred: A Love Story (33 page)

“Ms. Jeffries?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

“We have a delivery for you if you could tell me where you want it and sign here.”

“I didn’t order anything,” she replied and asked him to confirm her address, which he did.

“Says here on my paperwork that it’s a gift, already paid for.”

“Who sent it?”

“I did,” Garrett said, now standing in her doorway as the delivery guy searched his clipboard.

“Well, there you have it,” the guy said, pointing at Garrett.

“You can put it right in the living room. I’m sure we’ll move it later.”

We,
Sage thought.
Since when was he having things delivered, and what the hell would “we” be moving later?
“Garrett?”

After talking with the guy, who disappeared back out to his truck, Garrett took her by the shoulder and guided her toward the couch.

“What are you doing? I have bridge class to teach in a couple of hours. I don’t have time for this.”

“Shhhh.” He held his finger up to her mouth and then proceeded to hold up a scarf. “Trust me?”

Sage managed to laugh.
Was he kidding?
Apparently not, because he tied the scarf around her eyes and the room went black except for a few large shadows. She sat back, wondering what he was up to and why he couldn’t leave her be. She heard men’s voices, some thuds, and the sound of her front door closing.

“Can I take this thing off now?”

“Yes,” she heard him say, taking a seat next to her.

She pulled the scarf off her eyes, and sitting smack dab in the middle of her little living room was a huge dresser. It was an antique, Sage could tell, and it was gorgeous. Way too big for her house. It would have to go back, she thought, but it was a stunning piece.

She stood and ran her hand along the wood of the center cabinet, which was in between two rows of drawers, one on each side. There were two larger drawers underneath and a piece of paper sticking out of one. Sage looked back at Garrett, who said nothing. She knelt and removed the piece of paper that said,
Open me first
. It was the very bottom drawer, and Sage felt her chest tighten. The drawer was huge and she wasn’t sure what kind of game he was playing. Pulling on the metal wreath-shaped rings, she tugged the drawer open. It was stuck so she pulled harder and when it finally gave, it was overflowing.

Sage picked up a few pieces that had escaped. One was a drawing from Paige of the two of them dancing. Her pulse jumped and she held the drawing to her chest. Turning over the other piece that had escaped, it was a picture of her behind the bar and Travis making a face with two red stir sticks in his mouth like a walrus. Sage laughed and held the photo to her chest as she looked into the drawer and saw pictures of her sisters, ticket stubs, train tickets, a picture of her in Paris, and a picture of her on the beach with Kenna. There was a certificate from when she won the science fair in high school and one of the research papers she worked on her first year out of college. Keys with little notes attached to the rings explaining what they unlocked. And letters. Sage picked one up and through the glistening of her tears read a thank-you note from a customer going through a divorce, another from one who had a sick child and came in for lunch. She couldn’t take it anymore.

Her arms filled with the contents of the drawer, she pivoted on her knees to Garrett who was now next to her, the width of him competing with the dresser. He dried her eyes, helped her stand, and pointed to the very top drawer. It was small compared to the bottom drawer, with a note that read—
Open me last
.

Sage set everything she was holding back in the bottom drawer and pulled open the smaller one. She strained to reach because it was so high she couldn’t see inside, but felt a small box. By the time she pulled it out, Garrett was on his knees in front of her. Her tears were out of control now.

“This is your bottom drawer,” he started with a shaky voice full of emotion. “You have one. A huge one, filled with people who have loved you, people you have touched, and incredible things you’ve experienced and achieved.” He cleared his throat and Sage squeezed the box and tried to breathe. “There may not be any dried-up corsages or Mardi Gras beads in there, but your bottom drawer is overflowing.” He took her hand. “I was going to bring you an actual box or a chest, but when I spoke with all of the people who love you I knew I was going to need more room.”

Sage looked at the dresser. “This was a little overkill, don’t you think?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He took the ring box from her hand and opened it. “Sage Jeffries, I love you. If you’ll have me, invite me along. I’m ready to give you more. I’d like to spend the rest of my life helping you finish your bottom drawer and then we can fill up all the other ones too. You are the only woman who can rescue me from myself. I know you said you loved me first, but I’m sure I love you more, so that makes us even.” Garrett stood and Sage looked at the ring in his hand. It was old with a thin band and a square-cut diamond that glittered as if it were bought yesterday. He touched her face and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “I love you, Sage. You’ve stirred things in my life I never even knew were there. And I don’t ever want you to stop. Please marry me.”

“Well it took you long enough.”

He laughed and his eyes filled. “Is that a yes?”

Sage nodded a bit like a child that had been asked if she wanted more candy. “I love you too. I always have. Of course I’ll marry you.”

He slid the ring onto her finger.

She’d loved herself enough to let him in, and he had found a way to her. Real life was so much better than the fantasy.

Oprah would be proud.

Sage held Garrett’s face, gazed into his watercolor eyes, and knew she would never ever get tired of the storms in them.

“Wait, was that a bartending reference? Stirred, I’ve stirred things in you. Are you trying to seduce me with drink lingo?” she asked, so grateful as playful swirled around her.

“Does that work?” He pulled her close.

“Everything, Garrett, everything and always.” She kissed him and realized the book was wrong. Sometimes nice girls did finish first.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank:

Katie McCoach and Nikki Busch because without them there would be no books.

People who get their hands dirty, literally and figuratively.

My family for putting up with my closed door, imaginary friends, and often absent mind.

Readers for inviting me into your lives. The honor is never lost on me.

Tracy Ewens shares a beautiful piece of the desert with her husband and three children in New River, Arizona. She is a recovered theatre major that blogs from the laundry room.

Stirred
is her sixth novel, and the fifth in her
A Love Story
series.

Tracy is a horrible cook, wishes she could speak Italian, and bakes a mean Snickerdoodle.