Stirred: A Love Story by Tracy Ewens

been on fantasy, which she knew a whole lot about, but she wasn’t sure how to fantasize about anyone other than Garrett.

    The following evening, after deciding to wear the black skirt with the white stripe along the bottom and to also bring three mixing glasses instead of two, Sage arrived at the farm a few minutes early. The path from the parking lot to the barn was now lined with tiny lights threaded through branches. Kenna had been there since the early morning, and it looked like something out of a movie or a magazine. They’d been sold out for months and, as she wheeled her supply cart toward the faded red barn positioned off the rows of rainbow kale, she had to admit she was nervous. Things like this were always a show, a coming together of all the elements that made for an “experience,” as their website had touted. She supposed it was similar to her cocktails, mixing things, but on a much larger scale.
    A breeze brushed through the silk of her blouse and she was surrounded by the smell of soil, smoked wood, and spices. The barn itself, Sage learned from Kenna a few weeks ago, was old and had been moved from another property up near Temecula. Garrett bought it at auction and had it driven down and reassembled on their property.
    There would be twenty-two guests, seated at a massive table that was positioned in the center of the barn. Bunches of local flowers, winter wheat, and candles lit the dining area with a glow that stopped Sage in her tracks on her way to the far end of the barn. It was breathtaking. There were a few overstuffed chairs around the bar, complete with blankets and pillows. Sage looked again at the high, vaulted lofts. It was official, she thought, the barn was nicer than her house.
    The sun was setting, their guests hadn’t arrived yet, and she already knew the evening was going to be unbelievable. It was in the air, energy so fresh and rooted in simplicity, it was impossible for it to go wrong. Everything looked like a scene in the lifestyle magazines Sage saw at Fisher’s bookstore. She liked stopping by Fisher’s on her way home after her coffee dates with Kenna and Paige. Sage liked magazines, sometimes thumbing through them for hours, but she often wondered why anyone would pay twelve dollars for a magazine filled with pictures. Now she understood. Twelve dollars was a small price to pay for a frozen glimpse of the magic that was presently all around her.
    Taking out her mixing glasses and spoons, Sage opened the cooler that held her fruit and herbs. Jeremy approached, and she decided he was attractive in a clean refrigerator sort of way. She could appreciate it, but she preferred hers packed with food and a little messy.
    “Hey, beautiful.”
    And that greeting, the same one every time, was rehearsed and obnoxious, she thought, but smiled.
    He looked over her spread and picked up a bottle of gin before setting it back down. “So what are you shaking up to compete with our wines?”
    “Not exactly competing, more like complementing. I’ve created two drink variations that I think go well with the pork ribs, I’m sure people will love—”
    “Sage”—he touched her arm—“I was joking, and I don’t need the details.”
    “Oh, right.” No need to clutter things up with the details. Sure. “Sorry, I’m a little wound up.” A buzz of energy that had nothing to do with Jeremy coursed through her body. “Maybe it’s the night air or this spot. I mean, look at this place, it’s gorgeous.”
    As if he had been cued from some back door, Garrett joined Travis and Logan while they tended to the short ribs smoking at the front food station on the other side of the barn. Another breeze kissed the back of her neck, and she shivered. Sage had brought a sweater but didn’t want to put it on.
    He wore jeans and a button-down shirt with patches on the elbows. The shirt was out, his hair still wet from a shower Sage refused to allow herself to imagine. Everything about him, about his