Page 23 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)

A fter a quick talk with the framing foreman next door, Bennett stepped back into the apartment. The window was now fully secured, the sunlight muted behind newly installed glass, but the memory of that projectile crashing through it last night was still fresh in his mind.

He took in the space at a glance. Laurel was over by the kitchen counter, talking on the phone with Annie, her hands moving as she described something with her usual animation.

She looked fine. More than fine, actually.

Her hair was twisted up now, a few stubborn strands slipping free to frame her face.

Her voice carried with a spark of humor. Definitely not rattled.

Good.

Tyler and Carter were out in the common area by the elevator, finishing up the installation of a new camera, and he’d passed Matthew on his way in. The guy was heading out to help one of the delivery drivers unload the final box for the unit next door.

Bennett turned at the sound of boots on the stairs, his senses snapping into alert mode as Rylee stepped into the apartment. Her stride was confident, her dark ponytail swaying behind her, a file folder in one hand and her phone in the other. No wasted movement. No unnecessary words.

The kind of presence that said something mattered.

“Tell me you have news,” Bennett said, stepping toward her, his voice low and clipped.

Rylee nodded once, calm but serious. “Hunter tracked some light boot prints out near the alley fence line. He followed them for two blocks before the trail faded. No clear exit point. But it’s something.”

Something was better than nothing.

She passed him the folder, and he flipped it open with practiced ease.

Inside were several printed stills, grainy, but clear enough to show the rear corner of a dark-colored SUV.

Mud-splattered, no plate visible in the frame, but the taillight shape and roof rack stood out enough to help narrow the make and model.

“This from last night?” he asked, eyes scanning the timestamp.

Rylee nodded. “Yeah. Caught it on one of the building’s external cams right before the window shattered. Not the same vehicle from the diner. Different angle, different timing. Gabe’s trying to pull traffic cam data to get a plate, but we’ve already ruled out the white pickup.”

Bennett studied the still again, a prickle of unease crawling up the back of his neck. “So we’re dealing with more than one player.”

“Looks like it,” Rylee said. “And this one’s more careful. No direct angle, no lingering. Just a toss and gone.”

He studied the photo again, tension pulling tight across his shoulders. Whoever this was, they weren’t reckless. They moved with purpose. Precision. They knew when to strike and how to vanish.

Ghost-like.

Just like the kind of enemies he used to hunt overseas.

Bennett handed the folder back with a short grunt of approval. “Good work.”

Rylee didn’t smile, but the acknowledgment in her eyes said she understood just how serious he was.

They were getting closer.

And whoever had thrown that lock-filled warning through Laurel’s window was running out of time.

“Hi, Rylee,” Laurel said, walking over. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Rylee snickered. “It’s no wonder. The door was already open.”

Laurel sighed. “Been like that all day. Too many people coming in and out.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Rylee smiled. “Oh, guess what? I was just talking with my friend, Jenna, from California, and she is actually looking to move out here. She’s leaving the legal world behind and wants to open a craft store with her sister.

I told her about the storefronts, and she’s definitely interested. ”

Laurel’s brows lifted. “Really?”

“She said to expect a call sometime this week. I hope you don’t mind that I gave her your number.”

“No, that’s great.” Laurel smiled. “Thank you.”

Rylee winked. “We girls have to stick together. Especially when you’re surrounded by this lot.”

Bennett frowned. “What do you mean? We’re delightful.”

“Debatable,” Rylee said as she turned toward the door. “I’ll catch you later. And don’t worry. I’m going to actually shut your door.”

With that, the woman disappeared, leaving a hush in her wake after the click of the door. The apartment was suddenly too quiet.

Laurel moved back to the sink, rinsing a mug, the sleeves of her soft cotton shirt pushed up to her elbows. The mundane domesticity of it—her standing barefoot in a kitchen that hadn’t existed three days ago—felt strangely intimate. Real.

Before he could second guess it, Bennett moved to help. No hesitation, just instinct. He stepped beside her, reached for the cleaned mug, and their hands brushed.

Electric.

Not a jolt. More like a pull. A low and steady one, curling in his chest and tightening everything else.

She looked up at him, and he was hit with the full force of her gaze. Beautiful, clear, steady, sharp as ever, but with a flicker of warmth that made his breath hitch.

“Thanks for not hovering today,” she said, her lips tilting in the barest smile.

He arched a brow. “I was totally hovering.”

“I know.” Her grin deepened. “But at least you did it from a respectful distance.”

That invisible thread between them tightened again. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but somehow they were closer now. Close enough to see the flecks of amber in her eyes. Close enough to feel the soft exhale from her last breath.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said. Truth, not flattery.

Her expression shifted, vulnerable for half a second. “You always say things like that when I least expect them.”

“Maybe that’s when you need to hear it,” he murmured, his voice rougher now. Something about her did that to him. It stripped him down to honesty before he could stop it.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

It pulsed.

Heavy with heat and hesitation. A breath. A heartbeat. A choice.

She leaned in, just a fraction. Just enough for the question to rise in her eyes.

His set a hand on her waist to steady, to anchor, but he wanted more. Her body was warm under his palm, soft curves tempting the hell out of him. He clenched his jaw to fight his need, but then her breath caught, and her sweet lips parted.

Screw it.

He covered her lips with his, determined to take his time with this kiss.

Slow at first, testing, learning the shape of her mouth, the softness of her lips.

But then she kissed him back, fierce and sure, and something in him broke open.

The part he’d spent years locking down. She pulled him in, fingers fisting the front of his shirt like she had every intention of keeping him there.

Aw, hell, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Both of his hands were on her hips now, and as she leaned into him, he lifted her up and onto the counter, her knees brushing against his sides. She fit there like she belonged, like they’d done this a hundred times. Her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders to brush the back of his neck.

He groaned and splayed his fingers along her spine. She tasted like sugar and fight and everything he hadn’t let himself want.

Until now.

It was a kiss that blurred the edges of restraint. A kiss that made him forget where they were, what he was supposed to be doing, why he’d ever told himself this was a bad idea.

Until a knock sounded at the door.

Sharp. Loud.

They froze. Breathless. Inches apart.

Another knock followed.

She blinked, her chest rising and falling against his. “You think if we ignore it, they’ll go away?”

His forehead dropped to hers with a groan. “Not a chance.”

Because, of course, the universe had perfect timing.

Brandi’s voice called through the door, slightly muffled. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but I need Laurel to sign off on the fixture placement.”

Laurel groaned against his chest. “Of course, she does.”

Bennett exhaled a laugh and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping back.

“Rain check?” she whispered, her eyes still dazed, and lips swollen from his kiss.

“Absolutely.”

He helped Laurel down just as Brandi cracked open the door and peeked inside, wearing that damn knowing smile that made Bennett instinctively brace.

“We all good in here?” she asked, not even trying to hide the amusement in her tone.

Laurel coughed, brushing her palms against her jeans. “Yep. Just washing some cups.”

Bennett hid a smile as he stepped forward to intercept Brandi like a guy who hadn’t just been kissing the woman he was supposed to be guarding. He nodded at her, gesturing her inside.

Brandi strolled in, clipboard in one hand, the expression on her face practically glowing with amusement. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on the untouched cups in the sink.

“Mmhmm,” she said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your, uh…cup-washing, but the design team’s done in here. Furniture’s all in, shelves are up, lighting’s adjusted. Damaged areas fixed. We’re calling the unit good for now.”

He glanced at Laurel, noting the flicker of surprise that crossed her face.

“Already?” she asked.

“Already,” Brandi said, tapping her pen against the clipboard. “This place is officially move-in ready. Minus the jackass throwing concrete through the windows, of course.”

His jaw tightened. “We’ll brief the crew again tomorrow. No one starts work without a security pass, and no one lingers after hours.”

“Appreciated,” she said, then her expression softened as she turned toward Laurel. “You’re part of this town now. We’ve got your back.”

Laurel looked down, and for a second, Bennett saw a crack in her armor. Gratitude. Maybe even the beginning of belonging. He didn’t say anything, but he felt it. Right in his damn chest.

Brandi gave her a quick squeeze on the arm and turned for the door. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

She was gone before either of them could respond, the door clicking quietly shut behind her.

Bennett exhaled slowly and leaned back against the counter.

“So,” Laurel said, her voice dry, “how long do you think it’ll take for that to spread across town?”