Page 107 of Bennett

Rick Nolan. The camera tampering. Duke Carver playing a long game with someone else pulling strings. And then…Theo.

Bennett hadn’t said more than the name last night. Hadn’t told Laurel the real story. What Theo did. What his father sacrificed. How everything he trusted fell apart in one long, unraveling mess—and how he’d never really forgiven himself for letting it happen.

Not yet.

Her fingers twitched lightly against his ribs in her sleep, grounding him. She was a gift he didn’t deserve. She hadn’t pushed for more. Hadn’t demanded answers he wasn’t ready to give.

But she would, soon. And when she did, he owed her more than just a name.

Bennett let out a slow breath and shifted just enough to slide gently out from under her. She stirred but didn’t wake. He tucked the blanket back over her shoulder and stood quietly, before grabbing his jeans from the chair.

There were answers to chase and a past he couldn’t outrun any longer.

Moving silently through the apartment, Bennett waited until he was in the kitchen before he pulled on his jeans. Light filtered through the single window above the sink, hitting the smooth quartz counter and casting a quiet warmth across the room.

He didn’t bother with the overhead light. The quiet was too nice. He just filled the coffeemaker and braced his hands on the counter as he waited for it to start brewing.

Behind him, soft footsteps padded down the hall.

He didn’t turn. He didn’t have to.

A moment later, Laurel’s arms slid around his waist from behind, her cheek resting between his shoulder blades.

“You always get up this early?” she murmured, her voice still sleep-heavy.

“Only when I’ve got too much in my head.”

She didn’t ask what that meant. She just leaned into him, warm and present, letting the silence stretch.

Guilt punched his gut. Poor woman didn’t have to be at the diner until the afternoon again today. She deserved to sleep in.

After a beat, she pulled back and reached around him to flip the switch on the coffeemaker. “Works better when it’s turned on.”

Dumbass.

He blew out a breath in a half snicker.

She brushed his back with her lips before moving away. “Guessing you might need the entire pot.”

He turned finally, watching her move around the kitchen with bed-tousled hair and bare feet, wearing one of his t-shirts like it had always belonged to her. And maybe it did.

“You didn’t sleep,” she said without looking at him.

“Didn’t need to.”

Laurel gave him a look over her shoulder. “Liar.”

While the coffee dripped, he stayed quiet as she removed two mugs from a nearby cupboard. She moved with an ease around him in this space that already knew her rhythm. And without even trying, she made it feel like this wasn’t temporary.

Like this was theirs.

Bennett watched her, something in his chest going still in a way that told him he’d found the eye of the storm.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t waiting to be displaced. Wasn’t looking for the catch or the clock. Being here with her felt simple. Natural.

Right.

She turned and leaned against the counter across from him. “I know you’re not ready to talk about Theo,” she said softly. “But I hope you will.”

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