Page 2 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)
“Carter is already on it,” Mac replied as they continued to walk.
So that’s why the guy had been absent from the meeting. He’d served with Carter Sharp, the resident jokester of their unit, much like Cooper was in the SEALs.
“We were contracted to install security systems for each store and apartment once the renovations were closer to being finished,” Mac informed, motioning toward the building with his hand.
“But in light of the issues, we decided to get eyes on the building now, so Carter is putting in a temporary system. He started yesterday and should finish today.”
Bennett nodded. Good. The place was too damn exposed in this state.
As they walked past the building, Bennett spotted Carter crouched near the side, a tangle of wires in one hand and a look of deep concentration on his face.
The guy had always been a genius with tech.
Back in their unit, he could hack into damn near anything with a laptop and a grin.
Now, he was laying the groundwork for the security system, his sharp eyes flicking between the wiring and the tablet in his other hand.
Bennett’s lips twitched. If anyone thought about screwing with this place again, they were in for a hell of a surprise.
Carter’s gaze lifted, and when he spotted Bennett and the guys walking by, his eyes lit up, and he shot to his feet like a man who’d been stranded on a deserted island and just saw a rescue boat.
“Hold up!” he called, dropping the wires and jogging toward them. “Tell me you degenerates are headed somewhere with coffee and bacon.”
The guy hadn’t changed much—blue eyes full of mischief, dark hair worn long enough to touch his collar, and snark spewing from his mouth.
Cooper smirked. “Nope. We’re off to a green juice bar to discuss our feelings.”
“Damn, Coop,” Carter said, a hand over his heart. “I actually felt that betrayal. I thought we were friends.”
Mac, unimpressed, crossed his arms. “You finished wiring the system?”
A frown wrinkled Carter’s brow. He rocked back on his heels, glancing over his shoulder at the mess of wires he’d been wrangling. “Define finished.”
Mac raised a brow. “Are you done?”
Carter sighed. “Not even close.”
“Then, sorry. This is too urgent. Get back to it,” Mac said, already turning toward the diner. “You can eat when you’re done.”
Groaning, Carter dragged a hand down his face. “Mac, come on, man! That’s at least a few hours of work! By the time I’m done, all the good food will be gone, and I’ll be stuck with toast and regrets.”
Matthew chuckled. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
“You’re a personal problem,” Carter countered.
Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll think of you fondly while we eat.”
“Damn right, you will,” Carter grumbled, already heading back toward his wires. “And if I die of starvation out here, my ghost is haunting this place.”
Bennett smirked, shaking his head as they walked on. “Still dramatic, I see.”
“Always,” Mac said. “But don’t feel bad for him. He had breakfast with Dex, Dean, and RJ before they left on assignment this morning.”
“Yeah.” Cooper nodded. “Still, we should probably order extra food, just to rub it in.”
Carter called after them, his voice indignant and full of suffering, “I heard that, you traitors!”
This time Bennett’s chuckle echoed the others.
A few years had passed since they’d served together. He’d forgotten the camaraderie they’d shared and had to admit he’d missed it.
As they walked on, leaving Carter to his grumbling, Bennett let the easy banter settle over him, the familiarity of it stirring something he hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t just the job that had brought him here, it was this. The kind of team you didn’t find just anywhere.
They were family, and they would never desert him, unlike his blood.
By the time they reached the diner, the scent of coffee and frying bacon greeted them, grounding him in the present.
Annie’s Diner had an old-school, no-nonsense charm that came from decades of service and just enough wear to prove it had lasted.
The steel-sided building gleamed dully under the morning sun, the once-bright finish softened by years of exposure to salt air drifting in from the Gulf.
A red-and-white striped awning stretched over the row of windows, shading the front booths and the line of stools inside where the regulars probably had their own unofficial seats.
The entryway jutted out slightly, leading up three concrete steps worn smooth from use.
The glass-paneled door bore a hand-painted sign in faded red letters: Come on in, we don’t bite—much!
A wooden bench sat off to the side, likely where early risers nursed their coffee while keeping an eye on the town’s comings and goings.
A chalkboard sign near the entrance boasted today’s special: “Biscuits and gravy, just like Mama used to make”. Bennett had seen enough diners in enough towns to know that was either a bold promise or a well-earned reputation.
What stood out most, though, was how lived-in the place felt. The steel exterior had lost its high shine, but the building was still solid, still standing strong despite the elements.
A bell chimed above their heads when they stepped inside, and beyond the scent of coffee and frying bacon, the diner had that lived-in feel—cozy booths, checkered floors, a long counter lined with customers. The kind of place where people probably had their own coffee mugs waiting for them.
“Just as I thought. Gabe’s here,” Mac said, nodding toward Bryson, sitting at a corner table near the back.
The former SEAL sat with a clear vantage point, his back to the wall, full view of the exits. Typical of an operator, active or not.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” A woman smiled as she came around the counter. She was petite, with gray hair, a bandaged hand, and two pencils sticking out of a bun at the top of her head.
Mac leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Hey, Annie.”
“None of that sweet talk.” Laughing, she swatted him away with her unbandaged hand. “You boys here to eat, or do you plan to just stand in my doorway looking pretty?”
Cooper grinned. “Can’t we do both?”
“You can try, honey, but I’m only feeding you.” Annie grinned before turning her warm brown gaze on him. “You must be the new guy.”
He nodded and would’ve offered his hand if her right hand hadn’t been bandaged. “Bennett Vaughn. Good to meet you, ma’am.”
“Such nice manners,” she said, with a smile. “But no need for formality around here. Please, call me, Annie.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, then cleared his throat at her raised brow. “I mean, Annie.”
Her smile returned. “That’s better.”
“How’s the wrist?” Mac asked.
“Yeah.” Cooper frowned. “I heard carpal tunnel’s a bitch.”
She snorted again. “It is, but Doc says I’ll be back to flippin’ pancakes in no time.
Thank God my niece, Laurel, is here to help out.
” Annie motioned toward Gabe’s table. “Go on, have a seat. I had Laurel set two full carafes on the table, so help yourself to coffee. One of us will be by to take your order.”
“Thanks, Annie,” Matthew said while they did as they were told.
On the way, they passed a woman delivering drinks to customers in a booth. She appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties with a ring on her left hand and smile on her face.
The niece, no doubt.
Upon their approach, Gabe’s gaze landed on Bennett. A smirk tugged at the sheriff’s mouth as he leaned back in his seat.
“Well, hell,” Gabe drawled from the head of the table. “Didn’t think I’d see your ugly mug around here, Vaughn.”
Bennett snorted as he sat to Gabe’s right, while Mac took the seat on the left. “Gotta say, Bryson, I didn’t have small-town sheriff on my bingo card.”
Gabe smirked. “And I didn’t have Bennett Vaughn willingly working with a team again on mine. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”
Truer words…
Bennett nodded, grabbing a menu. “Figured I’d at least eat before regretting my life choices.”
“Damn.” Cooper dropped into the seat next to Bennett. “I should’ve brought balloons.”
Matthew chuckled as he sat across from them. “Yeah, but you’d probably only take them home for your daughter.”
He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that most of his lethal, hardcore brothers were now married with children.
“True.” Cooper nodded with a smile. “Mindy loves them.” He lifted his chin. “But I still think Bennett deserves some pomp and circumstance. Maybe a ‘Welcome back to teamwork’ banner.”
Mac smirked, reaching for a carafe. “Give it time. He’s still in the denial phase.”
Gabe snorted, sipping his coffee. “Bet you five bucks he warms up to Harland faster than he thinks.”
Bennett arched a brow, flipping through his menu. “Not a chance.”
“We’ll see, Vaughn.” Cooper leaned back with a smug grin. “We’ll see.”
He ignored them, too busy scanning the menu, trying to figure out what made the food so legendary.
The creaking of the nearby kitchen door swinging open brought his gaze to a woman walking out balancing a tray in one hand.
She was of average height, around five-feet-seven, all confident strides and smooth efficiency, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. There was a notepad and pencil in one pocket of her apron, and the top of a paperback sticking out of the other.
“Miss us already, Laurel?” Cooper asked.
Bennett glanced at the guy as he processed the connection.
This was Laurel?
Annie’s niece.
The one she’d mentioned so casually, like she wasn’t about to walk out here looking like trouble wrapped in sunshine.
His gaze flicked to the other server then back to Laurel, taking in the easy confidence in the way she moved, the shrewd way her amber eyes scanned the room, as if she already had every one of them pegged.
Yeah. He knew her type. Smart-mouthed, independent, wouldn’t be easily impressed or intimidated.
And just like that, his morning got a whole lot more complicated.