Page 18 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)

“Thank you for staying,” she said in that soft voice that ruled his pulse. “For not arguing with my aunt.”

If he were smart, he would’ve said something practical. Would’ve put distance between them. But he was an idiot, because he stepped closer, set his unopened bottle on the counter by the sink, and all that came out was the truth. “You make it really damn hard to argue.”

Laurel blinked and her expression warmed before her gaze dipped to his mouth.

Aw, hell. Something inside him cracked open.

Bennett took the bottle from her hand and set it next to his before he cupped her face and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t measured. It was hours, days of tension and stolen glances and stubborn standoffs unraveling into one kiss that short-circuited every rational thought in his damn head.

She kissed him back, fierce and warm, her fingers curling into his shirt as if daring him to pull away.

He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

No way in hell.

He pressed her against the counter, bracing a hand beside her hip, his other hand remaining on the curve of her jaw. The kiss deepened, her breath mixing with his. She tasted like mint and hunger, and he couldn’t get enough.

The world narrowed to her mouth, her sweet body tight against his, the sound of their breathing, the rush of blood in his ears—

CRASH.

The window by the table exploded inward with a blast of shattered glass.

Laurel gasped, and Bennett moved before his brain caught up. He grabbed her, twisting them both down to the ground, shielding her with his body as glass sprayed across the hardwood floor.

Her breath was ragged beneath him, heart pounding fast.

“You okay?” he asked, his own voice sharp and clipped.

She nodded, eyes wide. “Y-yeah.”

“Stay down,” he ordered, releasing her.

Bennett stayed low as he approached the window, eyes narrowing as he scanned the dark. He crouched beside the shattered opening, heart still hammering in his chest, eyes scanning the darkness for movement, for something, anything that would reveal the culprit.

Nothing.

The alley was empty and quiet except for the distant barking of a dog and the low hum of traffic several blocks away. Whoever had thrown the chunk of mortar near his boot was already gone.

Clean.

Fast.

Planned.

His phone rang with a call from Carter.

“We saw it,” the guy muttered. “Matthew, Mac, and a few others are on their way.

Everyone okay?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell was it?”

Bennett stared at the large chunk of mortar. “A piece of concrete.”

He narrowed his gaze on it. Not just any piece. Wrapped inside the concrete was a twisted fragment of metal. A lock.

Or what was left of one.

“Shit…”

Recognition hit hard.

“What? What is it?” Carter urged.

“Remember that lock you removed from the back entrance earlier in the week?” he asked, shoving a hand through his hair.

“The one that was bent and half smashed? Yeah, I tossed it in a scrap bin out back. Why?” Carter asked, his tone serious.

“It’s embedded in the mortar,” he replied.

Carter’s muttered curse rumbled in Bennett’s ear. “That isn’t good. I’m going to go through the outside feed and see if it picked anything up.”

“Roger that.” He ended the call and straightened.

Carter was right, this wasn’t good. The lock was vandalized then tossed in the trash.

Now, it was here, thrown through Laurel’s window.

No note. No words. But the message was loud and clear.

“I’ve been inside. I know what you’re doing. And I’m not finished.”

Bennett’s jaw clenched as he shoved the phone back in his pocket and turned toward Laurel.

She’d gotten to her feet and was drinking her water with shaky hands. Her face was pale, though her gaze was steady. The woman was amazing. Still standing. Still strong. But the look she gave him held a different kind of intensity now.

Not fear. Not anger.

Trust. And maybe something deeper.

“Whoever it was…they were fast,” she said quietly.

He nodded, moving toward her, careful to stay outside the glass radius. “They’ve done this before.”

Her gaze dropped to the shards of the broken window, then to the embedded lock in the mortar chunk. “They wanted to rattle us.”

“They did more than that,” Bennett muttered, stepping close. “They sent a message.”

She met his eyes. “You’re not letting me stay here alone after this, are you?”

“Nope.”

A beat passed.

“And you’re not sleeping in the apartment next door, are you?”

His lips twitched. “Nope.”

“Figured.”

He lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair off her face. “I’ll call Gabe. He’ll want a forensics team out here as soon as possible.”

Laurel nodded, her jaw set. “Good. Then maybe we’ll finally get a damn fingerprint.”

Bennett watched her a moment longer, a strange mixture of pride and protectiveness wrapping tightly around his chest. This wasn’t just about a renovation, it was about standing her ground. And damn if he didn’t admire the hell out of her for it.

He just wished she wasn’t such a tempting target.

Because whoever threw that makeshift projectile? They weren’t finished.

And the next warning might not come through a window.