Page 10 of Bennett

“Of course,” she said. “I’m here for as long as you need me, so don’t worry.”

Annie patted her arm. “Thanks. And who knows? You might just find a reason to stay even longer.”

The sudden gleam in her aunt’s eyes had Laurel narrowing her own. “That better not be a reference to a certain broody trivia champ sitting at one of my tables right now.”

Annie took another sip of coffee, her expression far too innocent. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bullshit.

Laurel groaned. “I should’ve stayed in Austin and let you struggle to butter your own toast.”

Not that she would have even entertained the idea.

Annie just laughed again, setting her mug down and heading back toward the front. “Thanks for sticking around, sugar. Now go on, before yourhot and cluelesscustomer starts wondering where you went.”

Great, she’d heard their conversation.

Laurel grabbed the coffee pot, shaking her head as she followed.

Trouble. All of this was trouble.

And if there was one thing she had learned the hard way, it was that men like Bennett were the biggest kind.

She’d been down that road before and crashed hard.

No way would she make that mistake again.

Laurel took her time topping off coffee cups at her other tables, but her ears were attuned to the sound of the ESI guys’ easy banter. Her lips twitched.

She shouldn’t find it appealing.

She shouldn’t findhimappealing.

But there was something about a man who could hold his own in a battle of wits. Something about the way Bennett had stayed calm, unreadable—except for that tiny glint of amusement in his otherwise unreadable expression.

She sighed.

Nope. Nope, nope. Not happening.

She had zero plans to make eyes at a brooding ex-military type, no matter how obnoxiously attractive he was.

She had a job to do.

And maybe, if she were really lucky, Bennett would find another restaurant to brood in before she had to remind herself again why men like him were a terrible idea.

The ding of a bell, followed by Pete calling out, “Order up,” had her returning the pot back to the kitchen so she could grab their orders.

Balancing the plates on a large tray with practiced ease, she made her way back to the big table where the walking recruitment poster for testosterone sat waiting.

“Here you go,” she said, sliding Cooper’s ridiculous stack of pancakes in front of him first, then Matthew’s omelet, Mac’s eggs, bacon, and toast, followed by their biscuits and gravy.

Just as she reached for Bennett’s plate, his low, steady voice cut through the conversation.

“Outta Here: A Practical Guide to Escaping Awkward Situations, Bad Dates, and Possibly Prison?”

Laurel froze for half a second before following his gaze to her apron pocket, where the book’s cover peeked out.

Cooper made a choking sound that might have been a laugh.