Stirred: A Love Story by Tracy Ewens

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.
    “Wait.”
    Garrett stopped, hand on the door.
    “I. . . don’t want to do this. I had too much to drink and I called—”
    “Texted,” he interrupted and moved away from the door.
    “Right, well, whatever. It’s not important.”
    “It sort of is, because if you’d called, you would have heard my voice and probably would have hung up. We’d be in a different situation.”
    Wow, someone was awfully technical this morning. “Okay, sure, good point. Irrelevant, but I’m glad you got that out. Anyway, my point is it’s one of those things, and I’d like to move past it and go back to being civil, friendly.” Confident, moving on, good, this is good.
    “Were we ever friendly?”
    “Sure, I think we were.”
    Garrett grinned and sat at the bar, leaning in on his forearms as if he were watching a game or trying to figure out a puzzle.
    “Are you saying we weren’t?” Sage finally broke the silence. “Coffee?”
    “Please.” He took his knit cap off, and his deep brown hair danced with static.
    Sage slid the cup across the bar to him and brought up the sugar from the shelf below. She turned to get the cream out of the small fridge, because of course she knew he used cream.
    “Yeah, I guess we were friendly.”
    “Were?” She turned, still holding the pitcher of cream.
    Garrett appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “I, yeah, things were said and I’m not sure how you want me to respond. If I’m completely honest here, it’s a little weird now.”
    She couldn’t remember a damn thing in the book when he looked at her. If he was going to be honest, she’d try that too. “I. . . meant what I said, but it was still. . .” Completely humiliating , she wanted to scream, but didn’t.
    “Embarrassing,” he finished her sentence.
    Yup, he was a mind reader too. Sage laughed because laughing was easier than dying.
    “I was being honest. Sometimes that’s embarrassing I guess.”
    “You had too much to drink. It’s not a big deal.”
    “True, but you still have great eyes,” she said, accepting the space she was in and enjoying the bit of freedom honesty allowed.
    His mouth curved into a slow smile, and she wondered if he even knew the way he looked, the effect he had. “Thank you,” he finally said. “It was all very flattering.”
    “I’m glad. See, there’s nothing wrong with being told you’re hot.”
    “You didn’t actually say I was hot.”
    “Didn’t I?”
    He shook his head.
    She laughed. “Oh, well, hot is sort of a general term. You can throw that in there, too.”
    “Thanks again, it was nice.”
    “Nice?”
    “Yeah, you’re right. There are worse things. So, we’re good?”
    Nice. It was nice and I was nice. Damn it.
    “I’d rather be naughty,” she heard herself say.
    Garrett choked on his coffee. “Excuse me?”
    Sage, shocked at her