Page 17 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)

E vening settled over Harland with a thick haze that clung to the salt air, warm and heavy.

Inside Laurel’s apartment, the soft hum of conversation and muted clinks of tools were the only sounds breaking the quiet.

Bennett stood near the freshly installed kitchen island, arms crossed, and instead of watching the security feed Carter was adjusting on a tablet, his attention was on Laurel chatting animatedly with Brandi near the sink.

From the corner of his eye, he noted everything that had changed in just a day.

The place looked different. Lived in.

A new refrigerator, dishwasher, microwave, and stove gleamed in their new spaces, along with an impressive coffee maker on the counter near the sink.

Three stools lined the island, an oak dining table sat in front of a tall window by the kitchen, and all the damaged drywall had been patched.

In the corner of the living area, a gray wing back chair had been positioned beside a standing lamp.

There was even a rug now—one of those woven ones that looked like it belonged in a catalog, softening the sharp edges of construction.

The bedroom down the hall had a bed with clean linens and a nightstand with a lamp someone had already plugged in, he’d noted earlier.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Brandi’s crew moved like a unit on a mission. While she and her team tackled the interiors, another crew worked to frame and wire the other apartments. Carter said plumbing was nearly finished on one side. They were pushing hard to meet Annie’s mid-summer target.

But all Bennett could think was it was too much progress too fast, exactly the type of thing that pissed off the wrong kind of person.

Like whoever had been trying to sabotage this place from day one.

His gaze returned to Laurel. She was rinsing a mug and laughing softly at something Brandi said.

Her hair was still damp from a recent shower, hanging in loose waves over her shoulders.

She wore black leggings and a faded diner T-shirt.

Nothing flashy. Nothing special. But somehow, it still knocked the wind out of him.

Laurel looked like a woman making a home in spite of the chaos.

He hated how much he noticed that now.

She caught Bennett’s eye, and for one brief second, the coil of tension lodged between his shoulders all day unspooled. She looked good like this—relaxed, warm, lit by soft kitchen light.

Dangerous.

Every time she grinned, it did something to his chest, somewhere behind the Kevlar-lined walls he’d spent a lifetime building.

Dammit.

“You happy with this camera angle?” Carter asked, shifting the tablet toward him, regaining his attention. A camera feed showed the stairwell and most of the back hallway. “Catches all the entry points.”

“Looks solid. Make sure it’s recording to both the cloud and the back-up,” Bennett said, working hard to keep his interest from drifting back toward the sink again.

Carter snorted. “Please, I’m not a rookie. This thing’s got more back-up than your average boy band reunion tour.”

Tyler wandered in from the unfinished unit next door, brushing drywall dust from his shoulder. “Side sensors are up,” he informed. “Still working on the second-floor motion detectors. Storefronts are next.”

Matthew was on his six, now holding an energy drink instead of tools. Looking around, he let out a low whistle. “Gotta admit, this place is shaping up faster than I thought.”

“Which makes it a bigger target,” Bennett muttered.

Tyler frowned. “You thinking the same person hit the diner?”

“Not sure.” He shrugged. “But if it was, they knew when to strike and where. It’s pressure.”

Tyler’s brow furrowed. “Pressure on Annie? Or Laurel?”

“Annie,” Bennett said without hesitation. “Laurel’s just in the blast radius.”

He felt it in his bones. And that was the reason he’d reassured Laurel they’d put someone on her aunt. Mac had agreed that Sinjin was the perfect agent to shadow Annie. The woman would never even know he was around.

Sinjin Acothley was a former Delta operator who’d spent years in the shadows, running black ops across the globe. If he didn’t want to be seen, you’d never know he was there. The man could ghost through a crowd like smoke—silent, invisible, and deadly precise.

He was exactly what Annie needed.

“What about Duke Carver?” Matthew asked, keeping his voice low. He’d done a quick dive on the guy earlier today, and no one liked the results.

And even though that afternoon they’d questioned a few of the realtor’s clients who’d sang the man’s praises, no one at ESI felt any different.

The guy was slick, and that usually wasn’t good.

Carter crossed his arms. “According to one of Mac’s cousins, Duke is an asshat who’s been sniffing around that building for years.”

For the first time since he’d received Laurel’s text that morning, a smile tugged at Bennett’s lips.

Matthew laughed outride. “Did Mac’s cousin really call him an asshat?”

“Yes, along with some other choice words.” Carter grinned. “Apparently Connor McCall and Duke have been rivals since high school.”

He liked this Connor guy and made a mental note to track him down if they needed more insight. For now, they knew enough to put Duke at the top of their list.

“He’s got motive,” Bennett muttered.

“And the charm to hide it,” Matthew added. “Apparently, he shows up at the right time, offering to help.”

“If Carver is behind things, he’s not the type to get his hands dirty,” Bennett stated. “He’d hire someone else to do the legwork.”

They all went quiet.

“My brother said he’s still digging into the partial plate from the diner’s alley camera,” Tyler offered up about the sheriff. “Old white pickup. Might give us something.”

He and Matthew had called Gabe to the diner that morning to inspect Laurel’s findings. The sheriff hadn’t found any evidence to connect it to the break-ins in this building but was waiting to see if forensics painted a different picture.

Bennett nodded. “Let me know the second Gabe gets a hit. And keep this circle tight. Until we have proof, we don’t know who else is involved.”

After Carter handed the building surveillance tablet to Bennett and gave Laurel a quick rundown on how to operate the apartment’s new alarm system, one by one, the guys packed up and filtered out.

Brandi and her crew followed a few minutes later, waving goodbye to Laurel before disappearing into the evening.

The apartment settled into silence.

Just the two of them now.

Laurel walked over to a window, arms crossed, her gaze distant. “They really think this is going to scare us off?”

He didn’t answer right away. The setting sun shining through the window caught the edges of her hair, making it glow. She looked beautiful. Tired, but not broken.

He admired that more than he should.

She turned to face him, her expression guarded. “You okay?”

Surprise washed through him. “I’m supposed to be asking you that.”

Laurel laughed as she walked toward the kitchen where she grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, offering one to him.

His fingers brushed hers, the brief contact shooting through him like static. “Thanks,” he said. “And I’m fine. How are you?”

She took a sip and leaned back against the sink. “The same.”

He studied her for a beat, cataloging every defensive line in her body. Her shoulders were set but not tight. Her voice was level but her eyes were too sharp, too bright. She was tired but fighting not to show it.

“You know, Bennett,” she said, regarding him through those beautiful amber eyes of hers. “You really don’t have to sleep here every night.”

“Yes, I do.”

Her brow rose. “Because Annie asked?”

“Because someone’s targeting this building, and it’s not finished. Security’s not complete. You shouldn’t be here alone.”

The list was endless.

“I can take care of myself,” she said before sipping her water.

“I know you can,” he said quietly.

Her gaze flicked up, surprised by his lack of argument.

“I’m not here to protect you because I think you’re weak, Laurel,” he said. “I’m here because someone out there wants this renovation stopped, and I’m not going to let them win. Not while you’re living in it.”

Her demeanor changed. The wall she’d braced between them thinned just enough for him to see through. Her bravery, vulnerability, passion, and strength…he saw it all. Heaven help him, he liked what he saw, a lot.

Too much.

“Well,” she said with a blink. “Thank you. Even if your version of protection comes with lectures and lock installations.”

“Don’t forget tactical judgment and emotional repression,” he added dryly.

She laughed. “Right. How could I forget?” Then she sobered. “I’m glad you realize I’m not helpless.”

“I never said you were,” he told her honestly. “But you’re stubborn, and I’ve seen what happens when stubborn people face off with desperate ones.”

It always ended badly.

She exhaled, and her gaze softened. “I’m sorry you’ve seen so much of the worst in people.”

Her insight into him was startling and damned frightening, but also unexpectedly binding. Something shifted between them then. Something strong, silent, and electric.

“Thanks for not treating me like I’m fragile,” she said. “Even if you do treat me like a mission.”

“You’re not a mission.”

Her gaze widened, no doubt as startled by the low rasp in his voice as he was. Hell, he wasn’t sure he meant to say it out loud. But the words were true and already out there…hanging in the air, waiting for someone to make a move.

“Good,” she murmured softly.

The tension amped up, sharp and immediate, like a tripwire snapping.

She stood just a foot away—close enough that the heat between them felt like static waiting to crack.

Amber streaks in her hair glistened under the kitchen lighting, the curve of her mouth hovered in a half-smile, as the sweet, strawberry scent of her shampoo warmed his blood.