Page 63 of Bennett

Screw it.

He covered her lips with his, determined to take his time with this kiss.

Slow at first, testing, learning the shape of her mouth, the softness of her lips. But then she kissed him back, fierce and sure, and something in him broke open. The part he’d spent years locking down. She pulled him in, fingers fisting the front of his shirt like she had every intention of keeping him there.

Aw, hell, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Both of his hands were on her hips now, and as she leaned into him, he lifted her up and onto the counter, her knees brushing against his sides. She fit there like she belonged, like they’d done this a hundred times. Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders to brush the back of his neck.

He groaned and splayed his fingers along her spine. She tasted like sugar and fight and everything he hadn’t let himself want.

Until now.

It was a kiss that blurred the edges of restraint. A kiss that made him forget where they were, what he was supposed to be doing, why he’d ever told himself this was a bad idea.

Until a knock sounded at the door.

Sharp. Loud.

They froze. Breathless. Inches apart.

Another knock followed.

She blinked, her chest rising and falling against his. “You think if we ignore it, they’ll go away?”

His forehead dropped to hers with a groan. “Not a chance.”

Because, of course, the universe had perfect timing.

Brandi’s voice called through the door, slightly muffled. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but I need Laurel to sign off on the fixture placement.”

Laurel groaned against his chest. “Of course, she does.”

Bennett exhaled a laugh and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping back.

“Rain check?” she whispered, her eyes still dazed, and lips swollen from his kiss.

“Absolutely.”

He helped Laurel down just as Brandi cracked open the door and peeked inside, wearing that damn knowing smile that made Bennett instinctively brace.

“We all good in here?” she asked, not even trying to hide the amusement in her tone.

Laurel coughed, brushing her palms against her jeans. “Yep. Just washing some cups.”

Bennett hid a smile as he stepped forward to intercept Brandi like a guy who hadn’t just been kissing the woman he was supposed to be guarding. He nodded at her, gesturing her inside.

Brandi strolled in, clipboard in one hand, the expression on her face practically glowing with amusement. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on the untouched cups in the sink.

“Mmhmm,” she said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your, uh…cup-washing, but the design team’s done in here. Furniture’s all in, shelves are up, lighting’s adjusted. Damaged areas fixed. We’re calling the unit good for now.”

He glanced at Laurel, noting the flicker of surprise that crossed her face.

“Already?” she asked.

“Already,” Brandi said, tapping her pen against the clipboard. “This place is officially move-in ready. Minus the jackass throwing concrete through the windows, of course.”

His jaw tightened. “We’ll brief the crew again tomorrow. No one starts work without a security pass, and no one lingers after hours.”