Page 28 of Bennett (HC Heroes #15)

He grinned and picked up another slice. “And yet, you invited me to use your shower. I’d say we’ve crossed the line into fully compromised.”

She bit her bottom lip, clearly fighting another smile, and something in his chest tightened.

“You’re not wrong,” she murmured.

Bennett set his pizza down and leaned in close enough to see the tiny gold flecks in her eyes. “Good,” he said quietly. “Because I don’t want right. Never have.” His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, then back up. “I want real. And this? You? This feels real.”

The shock rippling through him wasn’t because he meant every damn word. No, it was because he’d spoken them out loud without any hesitation. The incredible woman not only rocked his world in that shower, she’d also blasted away his damn braincells, and now, he was currently operating on instinct.

She arched a brow, that teasing glint slipping back into her eyes. “Careful, Vaughn. Say too many things like that, and I might start thinking you’re secretly romantic. Next thing I know, you’ll be quoting poetry and building me bookshelves.”

Still holding her gaze, Bennett sighed. “You always deflect when things get real?”

Her hand stilled, the crust dangling from her fingers. She set it down before meeting his gaze. Laurel looked at him, really looked, and something soft flickered in her eyes. “Only when I really like the person I’m talking to.”

That did it.

He leaned in and brushed a kiss against her cheek. She turned slightly, and their mouths met. The kiss was slow, familiar, sweet, but full of promise.

When they pulled apart, she leaned her head against his shoulder with a soft exhale. He slid his arm around her and tucked her close.

“I don’t do this,” he said quietly. “Any of this.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“And yet…”

Her hand slipped over his where it rested on her leg. “Yeah. Me too.”

The air between them shifted again, the same teasing rhythm but laced now with heat and something quieter beneath it. That low, whirring current that had followed them since the moment he’d pulled her into the shower.

He let his head tip back against the couch cushion, her weight warm beside him, her presence sinking deeper under his skin than he ever intended. And for the first time in a long damn while, Bennett didn’t feel like a man passing through.

He felt like a man staying put.

For several minutes, they sat in silence, the low hum of the fridge the only sound in the quiet, dim apartment. His gaze drifted to the door. He was grateful it was locked and to fate for keeping the world out for once, giving him a damn break.

She shifted beside him, her body warm against his, her presence something he was already getting used to in a way that should’ve made him uneasy but didn’t.

Then her hand moved to rest flat on his chest. Her fingers flexed slightly, like she was anchoring herself. Or maybe anchoring him.

“Bennett…” she said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “Who’s Theo?”

The name landed like a blow, low and sharp.

He froze.

For half a second, he didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. Because what the hell? He hadn’t said Theo’s name aloud—not once since arriving in Harland. That ghost stayed buried. Or so he’d thought.

He forced his face to remain neutral, though his pulse betrayed him. Inside, a thousand thoughts snapped to life at once.

How does she know that name? Who told her? Why now?

Laurel turned her head to look at him, her expression shifting, and before he could formulate a response, she reached up and lightly touched his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to blindside you. I saw the name on your phone, the other day. Just a text that popped up. I wasn’t trying to snoop, I swear. It stuck in my head because you deleted it without responding.”

Her honesty disarmed him more than the question had.

He looked down and flexed his jaw. “Theo’s…someone I used to trust.” He hated how flat his voice sounded. “Family. He made mistakes. And I made the mistake of thinking I could fix them.”

That was all he was willing to say. The rest—the guilt, the fallout, the grave he’d watched his father get buried in—that stayed behind the wall. The one that cracked more every damn time the beauty looked at him like she saw him.

He didn’t want to keep seeing that look. Didn’t want to feel that ache again.

So, he leaned in and kissed her, because kissing her was simple, powerful, but grounding. And because the weight of that name had no place between them.

Not right now.

Maybe not ever.

Laurel’s lips softened under his, her breath catching, her hand curling against his chest. But she pulled back just enough to murmur against his mouth, “Who's deflecting now?”

He drew back half an inch, arching a brow. “You want me to stop?”

She didn’t hesitate. Her smile was wicked, her gaze heated.

“Hell no.”

As if to prove it, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back to her.

And just like that, the storm passed.

For now.

He was under no illusions that this formidable woman would let it go indefinitely.

Laurel’s lips found his again, soft and certain, and that was it.

Whatever threads of control he’d started to gather unraveled in an instant. She kissed like she meant it, as if she wasn’t afraid of how deep this thing between them might go.

And hell, he didn’t want her to be.

His slid his hands along her waist, securing her on his lap, her body straddling his.

She threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to drag a low sound from his throat.

It wasn’t a kiss this time—it was a pull, like gravity had finally made up its mind.

And when her tongue brushed his, the last of his restraint slipped away.

She shifted in his lap, gasping when their bodies aligned again, and heat blazed through his veins. Bennett tightened his grip, splaying one hand at the base of her spine as his mouth left hers and found the curve of her neck.

God, the way she tasted…

Laurel tilted her head back with a breathy moan, giving him more access as his lips found that soft, perfect spot just beneath her jaw. The one that had undone her in the shower.

She was already trembling again. His name slipped from her lips on a whisper, and she tugged his shirt up to skim her nails across his skin.

She wanted this.

And so did he.

He pressed a kiss to her throat, then dragged his mouth down to her collarbone. Her hands fumbled between them, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He broke the kiss and pulled back just enough to yank it over his head and toss it aside.

Her gaze slid over him, dark and wild, full of the heat burning him up inside. With a growl, he reached for her, his mouth just about to claim hers again when—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

They both froze.

A pause. Then another knock, firmer this time.

Laurel’s head dropped forward, forehead pressing to his bare shoulder as she groaned. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

Bennett bit back a curse and exhaled hard. “Apparently not.”

She laughed, soft, breathless, a little frustrated, and rolled off his lap with reluctant grace. He stayed seated for a second, hands braced on his thighs, willing his pulse and other parts of him to settle.

Whoever the hell was on the other side of that door better be bleeding.

“Want me to get it?” she asked, shifting her top back into place.

He stood and grabbed his shirt off the floor, already tugging it back over his head. “No. I’ve got it.”

Laurel gave him a sideways glance, her smile returning with slow, wicked charm. “You gonna scare them off with that expression?”

“Depends on who it is,” he muttered, stalking toward the door with more heat in his veins than he knew what to do with.

“Put the charm away, Vaughn,” she called after him, teasing and sweet. “Save it for me.”

Damn right, he would.

Once this interruption was handled, he had every intention of finishing what they started.

And this time?

He wouldn’t stop until she was too blissed out to remember who the hell knocked.