Free Waking Up to You: Overexposed by Leslie Kelly Page A

being worth thousands of dollars. There was a small fortune within these walls, and, frankly, Oliver couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.
    They weren’t all gems. He had found a few broken ones, dry corks or just plain duds according to the books. Some that were good wines still weren’t worth much, even if in mint condition. Those included vintages that had been bottled during a surplus production year and just weren’t collectible.
    It was one of those he was eyeing now. A 1971 burgundy from one of his favorite vintners that was still around today. Buddy had told him to feel free to help himself to anything that wasn’t too valuable, and this one wasn’t worth more than about a hundred bucks.
    He deserved a hundred bucks worth of wine, especially after putting up with Buddy’s sexy, infuriating granddaughter.
    “How’s it going?”
    Said sexy, infuriating granddaughter who almost startled him into dropping the bottle. He spun around, seeing her eyeing him from the doorway. “Oh. You’re back.”
    Obviously he had lost track of time down here. It was probably a good thing she’d come looking for him—fully, if sexily, dressed in a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a lightweight pink sweater. With his luck, he’d have consumed the bottle of wine and headed upstairs after she was home and ready for bed, wearing that flimsy little bathrobe and nothing else.
    His horny-man brain quickly rebelled at the idea that that would have been bad luck. But he shut that part of his brain down.
    “Visiting hours are over. It’s after eight. I saw the lights were on upstairs and thought you might still be here. Grandpa told me where to look for you.”
    She looked like she wanted to come in, but was carefully eyeing the cobwebs and shadowy corners.
    “All clear,” he told her with a smile, knowing what she was looking for. “I think the mutant spider from outer space is still trying to find his way home.”
    That was a lie—there were enough webs down here to house the spiders from Harry Potter’s Dark Forest. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.
    She managed a weak smile and slowly entered, her attention focused on shelf after shelf of bottles. She whistled as she walked around the twelve-by-twelve chamber. “Wow. He wasn’t exaggerating, was he?”
    “Definitely not.”
    “Amazing!”
    “You have no idea.”
    He quickly filled her in on what he’d discovered, and saw her eyes light up with hope as she realized her grandfather might have actually stumbled into a treasure to help him make this old house into the showplace he envisioned.
    “Are you sure?”
    “I’m no expert,” he told her. “I can only judge by what the books say. Buddy will have to get an appraiser out here. And of course it depends on whether the wine is any good, or if it’s gone over.” Then he lifted the bottle, holding it up against the milky light coming from the overhead bulb. “I was just about to crack open a bottle of the cheaper stuff and check it out.”
    She nodded anxiously, looking like a kid agreeing to a dare. “Oh, yes, let’s!”
    “Are you a wine fan?”
    “I’m a woman. Of course I’m a wine fan.”
    Reaching into his pocket, Oliver drew out a multifunction tool that had a wine opener on it and almost held his breath as he uncorked the bottle. He was careful not to shake it in case of sediment and immediately smelled the air for any scent of vinegar.
    Nothing. So far, so good.
    Testing the cork and finding it completely moist and not at all crumbly, he began to hope they weren’t about to drink a bottle of salad dressing in the making. “This really should be decanted so it can breathe.”
    Her face fell.
    “But there’s no point in going upstairs to find a decanter and glasses until we know whether it’s worth drinking.” He lifted the bottle and extended it to her. “Ladies first.”
    She didn’t put on any fussy airs or complain about drinking out of an old, dusty bottle. Wiping the rim with