Page 28 of Broken Hearts

She nods, still smiling as she asks, “You know anywhere good?”

With a grin, I ask, “How do you feel about Mexican?”

After we get back to the shop, we go our separate ways to shower and change. As I pull on a pair of worn jeans, I try to figure out what this invitation to dinner is really about.

I mean, yeah, today was a good day, and as much as we got off on the wrong foot when she first showed up here, today I had fun with her. But does that mean we’re now friends? And if so, what does it mean for the shop?

“Nate?” comes her voice through the screen door, pulling me from all my questions.

“Yeah,” I call back from the bedroom. “Come in. I’ll just be a sec.”

I hear the creaking sound of the door opening, followed by the thump as it shuts again. Glancing around my bedroom, I try to find a clean T-shirt, only to remember they are all still in the small laundry off the kitchen.

With a sigh, I wander out to find Sage standing in my living room, her eyes slowly moving around the space as though she’s taking everything in. She’s wearing a dress now, with thin straps on her shoulders, the blue material hugging her chest and hips before barely reaching her knees. She looks fucking hot, especially with her long blonde hair hanging down her back.

“Hey,” I say, swallowing hard.

“Hey,” she whispers, turning to me, her gaze dropping to take in my bare chest.

I don’t miss the way her eyes widen or how the color of them almost perfectly matches the color of her dress. “Just gotta grab a…” I trail off, jerking my thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

Sage nods, and I turn and walk away to grab a clean T-shirt before walking back into the living room as I’m pulling it over my head.

“I’ve never been in here before,” she says, moving toward the small dining table, which is covered in sketches. “Wow, are these all yours?” she asks, looking up at me.

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod.

“Are they all for the surfboards?”

I blow out a breath, not used to having anyone in my space like this. “No, some are just for fun, and some are ideas I have for…well…”

“For what?” she asks when I don’t continue.

I shove a hand back through my hair as I make my way over to where she stands. Turning to the sketches, I grab one of a young kid surfing a barrel wave, his hand up in the classic Hawaiian shaka greeting of thumb and little finger out. Underneath it is the phrase “Living The Pipe Dream”.

“For T-shirts and shit,” I eventually say.

“Like for the shop?” Sage asks, turning to me.

“Yeah,” I reply with a shrug.

She turns back to the table, her eyes moving over all the sketches that are laid out. It feels weird to have her look at my work like this because I don’t normally show it to anyone until I have a solid idea for what it’s for. Even then, Tanner usually has to ask me for my designs.

“I think they’re fantastic,” she eventually says, her words barely audible. “You should definitely do it.”

I drop the sketch back on the table, turning to her, I offer a small smile. “Maybe,” I reply. “Guess it depends on what happens with the shop.”

It’s not meant as a dig and from the way she nods in acknowledgment, I don’t think she takes it as one either. But considering I have no idea what’s going to happen with it and she hasn’t elaborated on her plans any further, there’s little point designing T-shirts if it’s just going to close down.

“Anyway, should we go eat? I’m starving.”

We walk into the small town just a couple of blocks from the store. The night is warm, and there are plenty of locals around, enjoying the evening. Sage and I don’t talk much, and it’s not until we reach the small Mexican restaurant that she finally says, “This looks great.”

“It’s my favorite place to eat,” I tell her, holding the door open for her. “Mitch’s too.”

Sage smiles as she walks inside, and I follow behind her.

After we’re seated and have both ordered margaritas, strawberry for her and lime for me, she picks up the menu and asks, “Okay, so what’s good?”

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