Page 70 of Bennett

She swallowed. “So, that happened.”

His brow lifted.

“I guess I should be grateful we’re not entertaining the team with...more kissing footage,” she continued, her voice a little breathy. “That is...if there’s even going to be more footage.”

A charged beat passed between them.

Bennett stepped forward, gaze never leaving hers. “Oh, Laurel, there’s definitely going to be another kiss.”

Her breath caught.

He moved closer. “And much more.”

Now her knees wobbled.

But then he stopped, his expression dark with something that wasn’t quite reluctance, more like restraint. “But first, I need to head to my rental and take a quick shower.”

Laurel blinked, her brain taking a moment to catch up. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Of course.”

“Unless,” he paused, quirking a brow before continuing, “you don’t mind me smelling like sawdust and caution tape.”

“I don’t,” she said, a little too quickly, then smirked to cover it. “As long as you don’t mind me smelling like grease and pancakes.”

“I don’t,” he repeated her words, gaze deliciously dark and heated as he stepped into her space. “But what do you say we solve that together?”

She tilted her head. “Solve?”

His fingers brushed lightly along her hip. “I was thinking we continue this conversation in the shower.”

Holy Hannah.

Her heart skipped several beats before barrel-rolling in her chest. “You’re proposing a joint efficiency model?”

His lips curved as he leaned in. “Exactly.”

Laurel swallowed hard, but her voice stayed steady. “Okay.”

Bennett didn’t wait for her to second-guess it. He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and led her down the hallway, every step igniting sparks along her spine. The moment they reached the bathroom, he turned to face her in front of the shower, eyes scanning hers for any hesitation.

There wasn’t any.

He cupped her face with both hands, kissed her deeply, slowly, anchoring, and then reached past her to open the shower door.

Clothes hit the floor one piece at a time, each soft thud against the tile echoing louder than expected. Laurel broke the kiss, and her hands trembled slightly as she peeled off her shirt. Bennett’s dark gaze was locked on her with fierce appreciation. His fingers brushed hers, steadying without pressure, before tugging his own T-shirt over his head in one smooth motion.

Sexy as hell.

Her breath caught at the sight of him, all solid and scarred, heat radiating from every inch of bare skin, ridges, and muscles. He was magnificent.

Boots, shoes and socks followed, then jeans and leggings, before underwear, leaving nothing between them but air and everything unspoken.

He jutted out long and proud and big, stealing her breath.

And it felt like more than just shedding fabric.

It felt like stripping away armor. His, hers. Both.

Bennett’s voice was low, rough-edged with honesty as he cupped her face. “You’re so damn beautiful, Laurel.”