Page 22 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)

Brandi chuckled. “I get that a lot.” She pulled out a mini bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans and tossed them across the counter. “For courage. And for dealing with the mountain of choices we’re going to go over later.”

Laurel caught the bag mid-air. “You’re my favorite person today.”

“Tell that to the inspector I yelled at yesterday.” Brandi winked before she slid her bag off her shoulder and spread a few revised sketches and paint swatches across the island.

Laurel leaned over them, grateful for something to focus on besides the adrenaline still pinging through her veins.

The ESI guys had arrived just before Brandi, and Carter and Tyler were seated at the dining table, reviewing blueprints on a tablet and discussing wiring adjustments, while Matthew crouched by the hallway with a notepad, jotting down notes about tomorrow’s reinforcements.

Bennett, of course, stood near the window, currently un-boarded for CSI, arms folded as he kept watch with that same steady intensity that made it hard to breathe if she looked too long.

He wasn’t hovering, wasn’t even watching her, but she still felt him there—solid, quiet, a wall between her and whatever came next.

It shouldn’t have been comforting, but it was.

Brandi’s finger tapped a section of the sketch. “I think we can speed up the trim work here without losing quality, especially if the crews rotate morning and evening shifts.”

Laurel nodded, then glanced toward Carter. “That going to cause any issues with the security install?”

“Not if you don’t mind us playing Tetris with extension cords and guys hauling sheetrock,” he said with a grin.

“Sounds fun.” Laurel smiled faintly, then forced herself to focus. But even as she discussed paint colors and walk-through timelines with Brandi, she was acutely aware of Bennett’s steady presence in the room, like a heartbeat she could sense without needing to hear it.

An hour later, Laurel leaned over the kitchen island, her fingers brushing the edges of a swatch book as Brandi rolled up the final set of design sketches.

The light hum of activity buzzed through the apartment, with measured voices, the thud of footsteps, and the faint sound of furniture being maneuvered up the back stairwell.

“My crew just arrived with the rest of the furnishings,” Brandi said, sliding her materials back into her oversized leather bag. Her hazel-green eyes flicked toward the door, then back to Laurel. “We’ll get everything set up before dark, but I’ll leave you alone once we’re done. Promise.”

Laurel smiled. “You’re not a bother.”

Brandi returned the smile, then rested a warm hand on Laurel’s shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

The quiet concern in her voice paired with that steady, grounding touch made Laurel’s chest ache in a good way. “Yes.” She nodded. “Absolutely.”

Across the room, Carter and Tyler were unpacking motion sensors and debating the best angles for coverage while Matthew leaned against the doorframe with his phone, half-focused on whatever Gabe’s team was doing.

Bennett stood a few feet away, watching the new couch being carried in with narrowed eyes, as if daring someone to scratch the hardwood floor.

Laurel didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t aware of him.

His presence filled the apartment even when he didn’t speak.

He looked calm, unreadable as usual, but she’d seen the way his jaw had clenched earlier when she’d stood too close to the broken window. The way his hand had hovered near her back, steady and protective.

She tore her gaze away before he could catch her staring.

“I’ll circle back tomorrow to check on the upstairs units,” Brandi said, drawing her attention again. “And I’ll send you some updated layout options tonight.”

“Thanks again. Really,” Laurel said, meaning every word.

Brandi gave her a wink. “You’re welcome. And Bennett?” she called toward the corner.

He glanced up.

“Make sure she gets some sleep tonight. She’s no good to me if she’s a zombie tomorrow.”

His mouth quirked just slightly. “Understood.”

Brandi paused at the door, her expression shifting just slightly. “Laurel? You’re doing great. Don’t let the assholes win.”

Laurel’s face warmed, but Brandi was already out the door, calling for one of her crew members to mind the paint samples on the landing.

The worst of the chaos had finally ebbed, replaced with the comforting sound of conversation, the hum of a vacuum down the hall, and furniture being arranged around her.

Bennett, Carter, and Tyler had helped themselves to mugs, and Matthew raided the small stash of creamers Laurel brought from the diner yesterday.

Carter leaned across the counter, eyeing her with a familiar gleam. “All right, Sinclair. What’s today’s weird fact? Give me something good. I need to impress my wife tonight.”

Always happy to spout facts, Laurel smirked. “Did you know there’s a species of jellyfish that’s biologically immortal?”

Tyler paused mid-sip. “Immortal jellyfish?”

“Yep. Turritopsis dohrnii . When it gets old or injured, it reverts back to its juvenile form. Basically, resets its life cycle indefinitely.”

“That’s cheating,” Matthew muttered. “I want that ability.”

Carter grinned. “You mean immortality or getting to start over whenever life sucks?”

“Both,” Matthew said. “Preferably with better knees.”

All three of the guys nodded in agreement.

The door swung open, and Rylee strolled in, a large white bakery box in her hands, and a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“Delivery,” she announced. “Courtesy of Champion Bakery. The twins said to tell you it’s a peace offering for a crap week.”

Laurel laughed as Rylee set the box on the counter and popped the lid open. The scent of fresh-baked pastries wafted out—glazed twists, bear claws, raspberry danishes, and their famous cinnamon buns.

“You’re officially my favorite person today,” Laurel said, already reaching for a twist.

“They were baking before dawn,” Rylee said, sliding onto a stool and grabbing a croissant for herself. “RJ and Dean are still out on assignment, so Loni and Lori insisted I bring reinforcements.”

Laurel smiled, vaguely amused at how everyone in Harland seemed to be either married to an ESI guy, cooking for one, or investigating something alongside them. It was like a small-town version of Six Degrees of Special Forces.

Bennett, still hovering nearby, cracked a reluctant smile. “That bakery’s dangerous.”

“Dangerously good,” Tyler added, already chewing.

“You got another fact for us?” Carter prompted again.

Laurel tilted her head thoughtfully. “Bananas are technically berries, but strawberries aren’t.”

Matthew blinked. “Wait…what?”

“Botanically speaking. It’s all in the seeds and how they develop. Google it,” she said, before taking a triumphant bite of her twist.

“Next time you’re in danger,” Carter said around a mouthful of danish, “I’m gonna throw that fact at your attacker and see what happens.”

“Could work.” Matthew smirked. “They’d be too confused to attack.”

Before the laughter could settle, Rylee’s tone shifted slightly. “Hey, on my way here, I noticed a guy walking past the alley. Ballcap, hunched over, muttering something under his breath.”

Bennett straightened. “You get a good look at him?”

“Not really. He didn’t stop, but he looked…off. Like he was irritated about something. Glanced toward the building a few times.”

Carter was already reaching for the tablet. “I’ll check the alley cam. Maybe we caught him.”

Brandi, who’d returned with her design team and had been loading dishes into Laurel’s upper cabinets, turned at the mention of a man near the alley, her brows knitting.

“Could’ve been Troy,” she said, frowning. “He was let go from the framing team two weeks ago. Wasn’t thrilled about it.”

Laurel looked over. “Why was he fired?”

“Late. Sloppy. And someone caught him pocketing tools,” Brandi said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Kade told me to let him go, so I did. The guy just stared at me and walked out. Didn’t say a word.”

Kade, her husband, used to be Harland’s sheriff. Now he ran the animal shelter where Tyler volunteered.

Bennett jotted the name down. “You think he’d sabotage the place?”

Brandi didn’t answer right away. “He had that quiet anger. The kind that simmers.”

“I’ll run the footage through facial recognition,” Carter said. “If it’s him, we’ll pull more.”

Laurel clutched her mug a little tighter and tried to smile. “Someone needs to tell him this isn’t how you get a good reference.”

That earned another round of grins, easier this time, but under it all, the tension lingered.

Still, for now, with coffee in hand, pastries on the counter, and these wonderful, steady people in her corner, it didn’t feel quite as heavy.

She could breathe.

Even if someone out there clearly wanted to rattle the windows.

Laurel reached for another pastry, trying to decide between raspberry and cinnamon, when movement near the island caught her eye. Bennett stood barely a foot away, coffee in one hand, the other sliding his phone from his pocket.

The screen lit up with a text. She caught the brief message , “It’s Theo again. You have to hear me out.” before his thumb moved fast and efficiently, deleted the message. No hesitation. No reaction.

He didn’t say anything, just slipped the phone back into his pocket and took another sip of coffee like nothing had happened.

But something had.

Laurel didn’t comment, didn’t want to invade his privacy, but the muscles along his jaw were a little tighter now. His shoulders were a little more squared too.

She tucked that away with all the other things she was starting to learn about Bennett Vaughn.