Stirred: A Love Story (6 page)

“Oh my dear Lord, please stop.”

“Look, I know you’re dying right now, but maybe this is a good thing. You let it all out. Finally saying it has to feel good.”

“Yeah? How the hell am I supposed to move on from this? I sounded like some pathetic love puppy. I’m surprised I didn’t launch into how great he smells all the time or that I love his dog too.”

“You did.”

Sage closed her eyes. “Great. Okay, well, I’m going to start packing now. It was nice being friends with you.”

Kenna laughed. “Stop. He was a little confused, but come on, everything you said was flattering and. . . nice.”

And there it was, the word Sage should probably have tattooed on her forehead: nice.

“Right.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but I don’t think it’s such a bad thing that he knows. And who cares? So you’re hot for him. You said some great things about him. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about here.”

“Okay, let’s stop talking about it. Maybe I’ll drink again tonight and finish myself off by trying to jump his bones. Make myself a complete laughingstock.”

“Well, you sort of. . .”

“Shut the hell up. I would have remembered that. Wouldn’t I?”

Kenna’s laughter grew louder. “I’m kidding. Take a shower, do your bendy exercises, and make one of those plant shakes you drink. You’ll be fine.”

“Will do,” Sage said with more resolve than she felt. “I’m off today, so that’s something.”

“Yes, you are. Now go be kind to yourself.”

“Sure, see you tomorrow. Oh wait, what was the good news?”

“There wasn’t any, but I thought that sounded better than ‘Oh my God, it’s as bad as you thought.’”

“Great. Very considerate, thank you.” Sage tried to laugh and hung up the phone.

She’d made a fool of herself in front of the one man who mattered. Adding more spinach to the blender, she stopped and gripped the edge of the counter. Chapter Three in the naughty book was “Life is a Stage.” It was completely absurd but talked about setting the scene for things, sort of a precursor to role-playing, which had its own chapter toward the end of the book. Staging. Sage was pretty sure what happened with Garrett was not what they had in mind. Had the author been in charge of last night, Sage would have certainly woken up with Garrett in her bed.

Damn it, building semiconductors was easier than this crap. Stupid book, Sage thought as she took a glass from the cabinet and pushed the pulse button on the blender.

Community Supported Agriculture, or CSA as it was called now, was something Ryeland Farms had been doing for years, but now that it was a trend, business had picked up considerably. The program was a way of bringing local produce to restaurants. Garrett remembered being a kid and delivering boxes to two local restaurants once a week. Now they had a truck route and delivered to various locations around Los Angeles six days a week. Their distribution had tripled in the last two years alone.

Garrett had two core supervisors. George, who, as he liked to put it, “handled all things earth,” and Richard, who handled distribution. George was one of Garrett’s favorite people; he’d been a teenager working the farm back when Garrett was a kid. Now he was in his forties, with the last of his three daughters entering high school. He’d been a grower his whole life and Garrett not only loved working with him, he loved him as a friend. As of right now, Garrett, with the help of Kenna, handled everything else and the employees. They probably needed more help, but he never liked to throw bodies at things. Once he had a handle on all the tasks he needed to delegate, he’d get someone, but the thought of moving further and further away from the parts he loved made him uneasy.

Garrett and Logan worked farmers markets and had thought for a while about having a farm store, but that was put on the back burner once the CSA program blew up their business. Kenna continued to push for a farm store, but Garrett always managed to squash the idea by telling her if she wanted a store, she could run it.

Garrett delivered The Yard’s order every morning, and sometimes in the afternoon if they needed more. He didn’t need to. He could put them on the route with the rest of the stops, but he brought Logan’s order himself. It was a chance to see his brother and sister, to check how things were going, and to find out if they needed anything before their family meetings on Wednesdays. He didn’t mind the little extra effort of driving an hour each way. It was on his schedule, and it kept them connected. Besides, Jack loved riding in the truck almost as much as he liked the tractor.

While the guys loaded the flats into his truck, Garrett noticed the lemons. They were for her. Picking one up, he tossed it in the air and put it back in the flat. He wondered if she was working today.

“You heading out?” George asked, pulling up next to him on a tractor.

“Si.”

“Can you pick up a tray of lasagna from Logan before you come back? Angela could have any Mexican feast she wants for her birthday and she chose your brother’s lasagna instead. That’s almost embarrassing, right?”

Garrett laughed. “You should cut her a break—it’s pretty powerful lasagna. And yes, I’ll bring it back with me. Everything good this morning?”

“Things are good. Kind of slow now that everything’s planted. We’re pruning the trees today, getting ready because you know we’ll be up to our
culos
in a few months.”

“That we will. I’ll be back soon. By the way, did that guy show up to finish the electric in the barn?”

George nodded. “First thing this morning.”

Great, Garrett thought, one thing off his list already.

“All right, I’ll let you know if anything new comes up with these dinners they’re planning.”

“It’s going to be great having fancy events out here with us farmhands.” George laughed.

“Yeah, apparently we’re trendy now,” Garrett said, using finger quotes.

“I know. Marisa told me some celebrity recently had a farm-to-table wedding. I asked her if she wanted to help her papa get that food from the farm to the table and she looked at me like I was nuts. I was cool for about a minute.”

Both men laughed, and Garrett still couldn’t believe George’s daughter was old enough to care about what was trendy and what wasn’t. Seemed like yesterday she had braids and braces.

“It’s good though, people paying attention to what we’re doing out here. Even if it’s only while we’re trendy.”

“True.” Garrett kicked the tire of the huge machine. “See you in a few.”

“Take your time. I’ve got this, amigo.”

“Yeah? I should take my time? You want to handle the paperwork on my desk?”

“I will if you want me to.”

Garrett shook his head. “Get back to work.”

George laughed, tipped his hat, and left in a cloud of dust.

Garrett whistled for Jack and they were on the road by nine. As he drove past their old school, he thought about Jenny Kapoot. He was nine when she wrote him a love note on a napkin during lunch. The bell rang and while they were all going back to class, she’d handed it to him and smiled. Jenny had strawberry blonde hair and freckles on her ears. He remembered because he’d sat behind her in class the year before. She was pretty and wore incredibly shiny lip gloss that he knew smelled like bubble gum even a few desks back; a lot of the boys liked Jenny. The letter said she wanted to be his girlfriend and he should ask her so they could hold hands. Pretty forward for a nine-year-old, he thought now, putting on his sunglasses.

On that day, as he’d walked to class, his heart had drummed in his chest at the thought of holding her hand. He’d never thought about a girlfriend until the moment she’d put that napkin into his hand. Class started and he’d shoved the note into his pocket.

Later, after school, two older kids were messing with Logan, who was seven at the time. Some shit about him not wanting to help them with their worksheets. By the time Garrett had arrived, it had escalated to pushing and his little brother hitting the dirt. Garrett punched the biggest of them and knocked his short, chubby sidekick into the trashcans.

He and Logan had picked up Kenna and walked home. Logan’s lip was bleeding, so Garrett handed him the napkin from his pocket. The next morning at the breakfast table, their dad told them their mom had left and she wasn’t coming back. Makenna ran to her room, Logan cleared the breakfast dishes, and Garrett helped his dad with the harvest until dark. Jenny’s love note had ended up in the trash; it wasn’t until she sat glaring at him a couple of weeks later that he even remembered her handing it to him.

In the space of a few days, the thought of walking down the hall with a girl became silly, and the thumping of his heart and his sweaty hands were all but forgotten. Things had changed and Garrett, even nine-year-old Garrett, no longer had time for silly. Jenny Kapoot moved on to Cory McCoy. She probably sent him a note too. Just as well.

Sharing his bag of granola with Jack, Garrett considered if he’d ever received another love note. He supposed what happened with Sage was similar, although more adult. The unfiltered declaration that she wanted him came out of nowhere and was probably nothing, but his heart had thumped a little.

She had too much to drink, and the woman barely speaks to you.

The texting episode and how small and shiny and relaxed she’d looked in his truck had been unexpected. The vision Garrett now had, as he changed lanes to let some guy in a Lexus race past him, was of Sage rubbing Jack’s ears while crossing and uncrossing long, shapely legs Garrett wouldn’t soon forget. She was a beautiful woman—that wasn’t up for debate—but he’d always thought of her as more than that. She was funny and flashy with her crazy clothes and her ever-changing nail color. Her hair was long and then it was short; she looked great either way. He didn’t know much about her or where she came from, but beautiful was too simple a word for her.

“Your eyes are like. . . they’re green, but like a watercolor. Different and swirling,” she’d said when he had walked her to the door.

Who said things like that?
She immediately had him thinking the ordinary eyes he saw in the mirror every morning were somehow art museum worthy. She’d put her hand on his chest before reaching up to kiss him on the cheek as thanks for picking her up. There had been no sign of her usual nerves, only a warm, grateful woman. And despite knowing this was a one-time thing and reminding himself she was drunk and this was a favor, his heart thumped again. He’d barely noticed the damn thing for the last few years and there it was, thumping away.

As he’d moved away from her front door, Sage had handed him back his jacket. He smelled her sweet but spicy-like-rosewood scent all the way home. Even her perfume was confusing.

Being with her like that, with her defenses down even for a few minutes, had felt like something he didn’t want to explore. At the same time, it was nice to be noticed, nice to put that look in someone’s eyes. Pulling up to The Yard, Garrett decided he’d leave it at that. Sage Jeffries was nice and even though he didn’t have time to be her boyfriend or hold her hand in the hall, grown-up Garrett would try not to shove her feelings into his pocket, either.

Chapter Five

S
age had been a little relieved when Garrett delivered the vegetables through the back door without incident. She’d returned from dry storage to find the lemons she’d ordered on the bar. Before she could delude herself into thinking this was some kind of gesture instead of the simple fact that it was on the order, Garrett walked, well rather, heaved his way through the front door of The Yard carrying what looked like a tree trunk on his shoulder. Sage tried to hit slow motion in her brain because she didn’t want the image to end. Kenna had mentioned some new bookcase that looked like a tree for the corner of the restaurant, but she failed to mention Garrett would be delivering it. Sweet Mother Mary, his blue flannel flapped open, exposing a white T-shirt that hugged a broad chest and woke up her already-active imagination.
Who the hell carries in a tree?
How was she supposed to be normal around this crap?

Kenna came through the door next and ran to guide her brother through the maze of tables to the corner she’d cleared for her latest find. As Sage finished putting the pieces of the blender she’d fixed back together, she heard grunts, the sound of a drill, and clapping. Makenna flew by her saying something about a meeting and that she’d be back. Garrett was right behind her, brushing dust and dirt off the front of his shirt. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but the man managed to make everything seem second nature. She was sure if she put him at a ballet or an art show, maybe he would look out of place, but watching him saunter past her, she doubted it. The ease and comfort, the pureness of him were things a person simply couldn’t fake.

“Sage.” He nodded and continued into the kitchen.

Oh perfect. Now I’m relegated to a head nod. Well done, Jeffries. Rush right in there with your stupid heart and scare the guy into head gestures.
Right as she was about to bow her own head in embarrassment, she remembered Chapter Four—“Balls Out.” “Naughty women never back down from conflict, and they simply don’t get embarrassed,” it read.