Page 19 of Benedict’s Rejuvenation (Dark Patriots #5)

As the saying goes, there could’ve been too many cooks in the kitchen if I hadn’t kiboshed the team size.

There was no way that a one-bedroom apartment’s worth of furniture and belongings being transferred to a two-bedroom townhouse required ten or more people.

I appreciated everyone’s willingness to help me move to my new place, but I had to cut it off at Beau, Keeley, Ben, Heath, and me.

I thanked Arnie, Reed, and Dickie for offering, and I promised to have them over for dinner once I got settled in.

They were okay with that idea. They weren’t big on lots of people anyway.

More of Ben and Beau’s Dark Patriot friends would’ve come, too, if I had said yes.

Somehow, the guys had managed to get four days off, except for Heath.

He’d help today and then fly out tonight.

I protested his coming, but he insisted he wanted to be here.

I think it was because he was Ben’s best friend.

Heath had come to Montana a handful of times with Ben since my rescue.

We’d gotten to know each other, and I found him funny and easy to talk to.

Sometimes, he might come across as being an asshole, but it was his odd sense of humor.

Heath cared about people. If you bothered to get to know him, you discovered that.

His recounting of the story of when he, Beau, and Keeley had gone to South Carolina looking for me, and he fell through the floor into the underground subbasement and hurt his leg, was filled with humor. He made fun of himself and highlighted what a badass my sister was.

Ben and Heath got in on the last flight to Missoula last night, so they stayed at a nearby hotel rather than the house.

We’d offered the extra bedrooms there and assured both that the late hour wouldn’t bother us, but Heath said it wasn’t worth his messing up the other bedroom.

Ben explained that he wanted us to get a fresh start, and if he came in after midnight, we’d end up talking and throwing off the schedule, which wasn’t a lie.

Ben would move to the house after Heath left.

The two of them arrived at the house at eight this morning, bearing pastries and begging for the good coffee we had ready to go.

After filling up on caffeine and sugar, we began loading the hauler truck.

We’d already started putting boxes in it yesterday.

All of those would go in first, and the furniture last, so that we could empty it in reverse.

It was better to have the furniture in place before bringing in all the boxes to unpack.

I was taking a bedroom set from one of the spare rooms in Keeley’s house.

I never had room for it in my old place.

Here, it would make the second bedroom a guestroom slash office.

I had a desk that would work there to make it a combo room without overcrowding.

I probably wouldn’t have overnight guests often, but having it just in case was nice.

I was always amazed at how many boxes belonged in the kitchen, especially if you liked cooking and baking, which I did.

When I got old enough, I learned to give Keeley a break.

She learned for self-preservation reasons.

We loved our dad, but the man’s cooking was terrible.

Lucky for us, there had been people who taught Keeley.

Dickie was one of them. When I was older, Keeley and Dickie taught me.

It took two hours to pack everything into the truck.

I was sure it would take longer, but we were well-organized, and with all five of us working nonstop, it went fast. Before unpacking the truck, we decided to stop and eat lunch.

We’d burned off the pastries. A local deli was a favorite of not only us but also most of Missoula, based on how busy it could get.

We hoped we’d beat the lunch rush. They had over thirty combinations to choose from for your sandwich or a build-your-own option.

Your choice of sides was chips, French fries, or potato salad.

I knew exactly what I wanted. We beat the biggest part of the rush, but it took a few minutes to order, allowing the others to study the menu.

After placing our order, we grabbed our fountain drinks and a table to wait for our order to be ready.

As we waited, we discussed the plan for the unloading.

It was somehow agreed upon that once all the furniture was unloaded, Ben and I would work on assembling the beds, then switch to either carrying in boxes or emptying them.

“The kitchen doesn’t have to be completely unboxed and put away tonight. I’ll have the weekend to do it. Preferably, the priorities are my bed sheets, the computer setup, clothing, and personal care items. Then I can work on the rest over time,” I told them.

“Take advantage while you have us here. I doubt Ben wants to spend all weekend unpacking with you. The two of you have plans, don’t you?” Heath asked.

“I’d like us to do something, but if we end up hanging out and working on the house, then so be it,” Ben replied with a shrug.

I told him, “I’m not putting you to work on all your days off. If I do that, you’ll stop visiting.”

Ben grinned and gave me a mischievous wink as he said, “I don’t see that happening, Kensy.”

The playful tone made me want to lean over and kiss him, but I couldn’t.

We still hadn’t told anyone that we were technically dating—or I hadn’t.

Maybe he told Heath. I’d have to find out.

We dug in when our food was delivered to our table, and the server took the plastic order number back with him.

I sighed contentedly when I bit into my bacon, tomato, avocado, and cheese on ciabatta bread.

I’d gotten chips as my side. It wasn’t that cheap, barely any taste bacon.

It was thick-cut, cooked crispy, full of flavor, and a generous amount.

That was true of all their sandwiches. This deli didn’t cheap out on their ingredients.

During the week, around lunchtime, the line was out the door and down the street.

You had to wait even when calling ahead to place your order, but it was shorter and worth it.

The guys ate faster than Keeley and me, but they sat there talking about how good it was.

We had two converts. Beau had been here before.

“Tell the truth, Beau. This is the reason you moved to Montana. It had nothing to do with Keeley,” Heath joked. He was grinning at her.

My sister let out a mock growl. “Keep talking, Heath. You can be taken out into the woods and fall through something. Or a hungry bear might need a snack. I have a few caves I can show you,” Keeley shot back.

Heath grabbed his chest and gave her a look of shock.

“Keeley Mills, I can’t believe you’d say such a thing. I know you love me. Remember our first car ride together?” he quipped back.

My sister opened her mouth to no doubt say something hilarious, but she never got the chance. We were interrupted by a man walking up to our table.

“Excuse me,” he said.

We all stopped talking and turned to face him. I had no idea who he was, but I assumed Beau or my sister did.

“Yes, may we help you?” Keeley asked.

“Keeley and Kensington Mills, right?” he asked next.

We both nodded. My curiosity was piqued. However, it quickly escalated to anger moments later.

“My name is Rich Ambrose. I’m from the Missoula County Bulletin . I’d like to ask you a few questions about Kensington’s kidnapping several months ago. The police haven’t been very forthcoming on the matter. I’d like to hear from you what happened,” he said matter-of-factly.

It was hard for me not to moan. God, not this crap again.

When I first returned home, reporters had made a few attempts to come to the house to interview me.

The word had gotten out, we think, from someone in the police department.

For weeks, I hadn’t gone outside the house or into town.

They would sit along the main road, waiting to catch a glimpse of me, and shout their questions.

They stayed there because they knew better than to come onto our property.

It only took Keeley bringing out the shotgun and threatening to shoot anyone who trespassed to convince them it wasn’t the smartest thing to be on the property.

When Beau was home, he’d go out and run them off.

Even Ben had done it once or twice. Gradually, when the reporters and even lookie-loos couldn’t get a story, they faded away, chasing whatever was the next big news.

What the hell was this guy doing, trying to stir things up again?

“You need to turn around and walk the other way. They have nothing to say about that story. We thought you people finally got a clue last time you circled like vultures,” Ben said sternly.

“And you are?” Ambrose asked.

“None of your business,” Ben answered.

“Please leave. We have nothing to say to you,” Keeley told him.

“Ms. Mills, we know there’s a story, whether you want to admit it.

The police have an open case on your sister and her disappearance.

All we want to know is what happened? You’d be doing the public a service, so they know who to watch for.

Your sister’s kidnapper got away. Who was he?

Kensington, what happened all those months you were gone?

What did that man do to you? Was he alone?

Or were there others? How did you get away? ”

The reporter spouted off his questions so fast that it was hard to keep up.

All three men came to their feet. They weren’t amused, and if I read them right, they were about to get into trouble.

Keeley stood and grabbed onto Beau and Heath’s arms. I got up and caught Ben’s.

He glanced at me. I saw the concern and anger there.