Page 70 of The Sweetness of Life

He adjusts his head on his pillow, slips his arm around my waist, and pulls me until I’m flush against him. Tingles spread through my limbs as his warm muscles blanket over me, his heartbeat pounds steadily against my back, and a sense of belonging washes over me—a belonging that is foreign and, if I’m honest, scary.

“You smell good,” he says, his voice raspy and full of sleep. Dipping his head, he buries it in my neck and breathes me in.

“I probably smell like you.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs as his hand tightens against my stomach.

My eyes drift shut to the steady rhythm of his heart. Neither of us is lulled back to sleep, but neither of us makes a move to get up, either.

Slowly, the light blooms, brightening the room. Zach rolls over onto his back and lets out a contented sigh. I miss the feel of him already.

“Are you staying for breakfast?” I turn to face him. His eyes are closed, his hair is sticking up everywhere, and his lips look puffy and inviting. I swear he’s never looked better.

His drowsy eyes find mine, and his fingertips slide across the space between us in search of my hand. “I wish I could, but I need to get some work done.”

“Work, shmerk.”

He chuckles at my evident pout and rolls to face me.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he trails his thumb across my cheek, tracing every feature on my face before pressing down on my bottom lip.

“So beautiful,” he says, shifting us both so I’m tucked under him and he’s braced on his elbows.

“I made a coffee cake yesterday—it’s on the counter if you want to take it.”

He smiles, and I feel it straight down to my toes. “Don’t you want some of it?”

“No, I made it for you.”

He pulls back, and the heated way he looks at me makes me want to melt. “I don’t know why, but I find it incredibly sexy that you cook for me.”

“Well, maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll cook you something for dinner tonight, too.” I add a little sultry tone to my words.

He slides off me and stretches as he stands; I swear he does it on purpose, so much skin and so many muscles I can hardly think.

“Something tells me I have a little luck on my side.” He grins, enjoying my perusal of his gorgeous body.

“You might be right.” I smile back.

He pulls on his clothing. I want to beg him to stay, but I know he can’t, so I keep my mouth shut as he leans over and gives me a kiss goodbye. I listen to him as he moves through the house, grabs the coffee cake off the counter, and then shuts the front door softly behind him.

Sliding my foot across the sheets to his side of the bed, I find it’s still warm, and a piece of me falls even more for him. I know I’m really in trouble when I trade out my pillow for his and snuggle down. I just can’t help myself.

It’s midmorning before I drag myself out of the bed, brew a pot of coffee, and sit down to do some work. I look over the different recipes we’ve selected, meal plans I’ve put together, and the pairings to go with each. For the most part, I feel like I’m done with the assignment. I’m pleased with how it’s all come together, and I think they will be, too. Sometime before the final interview, I’ll sit down with Zach and Kyle to see if they have any last-minute changes they’d like to make. I think I’ll even invite the photographer.

Done with work, I pack a small bag, throw on my boots, grab my sun hat, and wander over to the barn. I could’ve taken the golf cart, but there’s something about today, something in the air that makes me want to move a little slower, memorize more of the details.

I think about Zach growing up here and how different his family is from my dysfunctional one. He has roots here. There isn’t one inch of this property that hasn’t been touched by Zach in some way, and I’ve never had anything like that. He’s a part of the vineyard as much as the vines are, and my heart longs for this, too, even if it’s just a tiny piece.

“Hi, how are y’all doing today?” I ask a couple that’s walking out of the barn. I know I’m not a part of the Wolff Winery staff, but I can’t help but feel pride as if I am.

“We’re great, thanks,” an older gentleman says. “It’s just so beautiful here.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to us.” I smile at the couple. “I hope you enjoy your time here, and don’t forget to taste The Queen Bee—it’s delicious.”

They nod their heads, and I give them a wave and walk into the barn.

“You know, if you ever decide on a career change and want to give up your fancy restaurant in Charleston, I might be able to squeeze you in as a staff member.” Kyle is grinning at me from his spot by the label machine.