Page 35 of Love Among Vines

The door slid open, and she shuffled out into another hallway. There was a railing next to her with a view of the living room down below. A framed print of an antique-looking wine bottle hung directly in front of her. It was nice, but it had no personality.

“This way,” he said, leading her past the loft and down the hall. “You’re across from me if you need anything tonight.”

He opened a door and turned the lights on. There was a king-sized, four-poster bed with elaborate blue damask drapes.

“I see your grandma decorated this room,” she said.

Rett rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I haven’t had a chance to do many updates since moving in. But I think you’ll be comfortable here.”

“Oh, I was not throwing shade on your grandma at all. This room is amazing. I immediately feel eighty percent more royal just by stepping inside. It just definitely wasn’t designed by a twenty-nine-year-old straight man.”

“Definitely not.” He stepped further into the room and reached for another light switch. “You have your own bathroom.”

There went her half-formed drunk plan to walk in on him naked. It was for the better.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower.”

She nodded vehemently. A cold one would be best.

“I’ll leave you to it and meet you downstairs when you’re done. There’s something I want to show you.”

What else could possibly be left to show her? An indoor tennis court? A chocolate fountain?

“Sounds great. Thank you so much again for letting me stay here. I honestly think I would have rather slept in the party bus than under Ashley’s roof.”

“I’m just excited to have a chance to use the guest room. Most of my friends live here so it barely gets used. I’ll see you downstairs.”

He closed the door behind him and left her in silence. She took a moment to center herself. A cold shower truly was her only option.

The guest bathroom had great bones but was also in need of a slight update. Some navy, maybe. A nice set of pendant lights.

She reached around to her back and groped for the zipper. Shit. It had taken Kenya to zip her into this wretched satin nightmare earlier. Even with years of CrossFit, she couldn’t reach the damn thing. She had no option but to ask Rett for help.

“Really, universe?” she muttered to herself as she stepped out of her room and crossed the hallway.

His door wasn’t completely closed. She knocked on it, and it drifted open.

He stood across the room with his back to her, and he was shirtless.

He whirled around. A chiseled six pack and biceps for days greeted her. The universe was enjoying her suffering.

“Everything okay?”

“Uh.” She seemed to have lost all of her vocabulary. All she could do was stare at this stupidly hot winemaker like a googly-eyed goldfish.

“Do you need help with your dress?”

She snapped her eyes back up to his. “Please. I almost dislocated my shoulder trying to unzip it.”

He smiled and crossed the room. Good lord. She spun around and moved her hair out of the way.

As he tugged the zipper down, the straps fell from her shoulders. In an instant, her dress was puddled on the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay. Satin’s slippery.” She stepped out of it and bent to pick it up. Of course she was wearing unflattering undergarments—a nude strapless bra and matching thong.

“Thanks for your help.”

---