Read Stirred: A Love Story for Free Online

Garrett always liked it when slimeballs knew enough to be uncomfortable.
    “My apologies for putting my hands on you, Sage. No hard feelings?” He looked at Garrett as if waiting to be prompted for his next line. “And. . . I’m a tool?”
    Sage laughed, hand to her mouth, as Garrett patted him on the back and turned them toward the exit.
    “Do you have a coat?” he asked as they pushed through the front door.
    “What kind of coat did you want me to pair this with?” She ran her hands up the sides of her body, completely unaware he was a male and they were standing under the stars.
    Hello, eyes up, asshole!
    He shook his head, took off his coat, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

    “My God, that was classic. How did you get him to apologize and call himself a tool?” Sage asked, still laughing and reluctant to let go of Garrett’s hand as she slid into the warmth of his truck. “Oh, hi there, sweet baby Jack.” She kissed the dog sharing the bench seat with her and leaned against him, all soft and wonderful, kind of like his owner but far less dangerous. Jack was a Britney, brown and white with what Paige called “freckles,” and the most well-loved eyes Sage had ever seen. He was always with Garrett whether he was at the office or out in the fields. As if the man needed any help being her ultimate hot-and-damn, he had a great dog too.
    “I asked him to say he was sorry,” he said, starting the truck.
    “Uh huh.”
    The corner of Garrett’s mouth turned up as they pulled into traffic. The truck, a 1957 Ford, smelled like rich oil and potted plants. It had been restored for as long as Sage had known the Rye family. The story, according to Makenna, was that Garrett had worked on the engine and the bodywork all during high school and then their father surprised him at graduation with all-new upholstery.
    She’d only been in his truck one other time when he’d picked her and Kenna up from the movies because Kenna’s Jeep wouldn’t start. That had been over a year ago, and not much had changed. Running her hand along the leather of the seat, Sage told herself, through the haze of tequila, to sober up and not make an ass out of herself. Her cheeks were warm, and she wanted to switch places with Jack and climb right into Garrett’s lap.
    “Let’s do it,” tequila, its voice a little fainter now, said.
    Stop it.
    Sage closed her eyes, petting Jack and knowing that the body of knowledge she’d gathered on Garrett Rye, through his family and eavesdropping from the bar, was a touch pathetic. Her interest in him was a little “consuming” according to pretty much all of her books, but Sage wasn’t sure how to stop. There was an energy she felt every time he was around that was hard to ignore. He wasn’t flashy and she knew she wasn’t his type, but that didn’t matter to her heart. She wanted him. And until she could move on and get a grip on herself, maybe learn to be nasty, no other date, or man for that matter, stood a chance. That was her problem. He was hers. He simply didn’t know it yet.
    She let out a slow breath, listening to the low, rhythmic lilt of a country song she didn’t recognize. Jack made himself comfortable and rested his head on her lap. Sage peeked at Garrett, driving silently beside her, his face lit by the dash, and her heart settled into her chest, content to stay right where it was. Her eyes were heavy and as she drifted off to sleep, she heard tequila, in a voice that sounded a lot like her own, say, “I love you, Garrett Rye.”
    Oh, me too, tequila, me too.

Chapter Four
    S age woke up the next morning with yuck mouth, but only a slight headache. At least she’d been aware enough not to mix alcohol during the party; there were some benefits to being a professional. Sticking with tequila but forgetting that she hardly ever drank anymore had landed her in the bathroom last night. So , she told herself as she pulled on her yoga pants and prepared to detox the final night