Page 113 of Bennett

Laurel ran her fingers along the rough edge of the unfinished counter. “It’s really happening.”

“Sure is,” Brandi said, closing her planner. “You’re doing the damn thing, Laurel. I’ll stop by later this week with samples for the signboard and those pendant lights.” Brandi smiled. “You’vegot good instincts. We’ll finalize placement for plumbing this week, then I’ll walk the crew through the last electrical runs. But right now, Queen Laurel, I have two crews and a moody electrician waiting on me three blocks over.”

Laurel’s heart thumped with a strange mix of pride and disbelief. She wasn’t just daydreaming about a bookstore anymore. She was making it happen, on her terms. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Brandi gave her a wink and adjusted the planner under her arm. “But first, I need to check on the progress upstairs.”

Laurel followed her through the rear hallway and opened the door, the sound of hammering and low voices spilling in from the shared back corridor. “Thanks again, Brandi. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Brandi grinned. “Let’s make sure the espresso machine doesn’t flood your prep area on day one.”

The designer stepped into the organized chaos, dodging extension cords, sidestepping a rolling cart stacked with tile, and calling out a greeting as she made her way toward the stairwell.

Laurel watched the amazing woman climb the steps, the last of her voice blending into the thudding of boots and tools above. Then she let the door ease shut behind her, and the shop fell quiet again.

Turning around, she walked back into the front of her shop, her heart full and buzzing.

She was still smiling as she stood in the front corner by the windows when a figure moved past outside.

Tall. Dark-haired. Broad-shouldered. Familiar in a way that made her stomach tighten before her brain caught up.

Theo.

Her breath caught. Laurel blinked, stepping closer to the glass. He was already half a storefront down, head slightlylowered, hands in his jacket pockets like he didn’t want to be seen.

But she saw him.

And this time, she wasn’t letting him walk away.

She didn’t hesitate.

Her heart was in her throat when she rushed to the door, then stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Theo!”

He slowed instantly, but didn’t turn.

“Theo Vaughn!” she called again, louder this time.

That did it.

He stopped and slowly turned around, his eyes meeting hers with something between caution and resignation. He didn’t run. Didn’t speak.

“You’ve been watching,” she said as she walked toward him, voice firm. “But now you’re going to talk.”

A pause. Then he glanced past her toward the storefront window.

“Bennett isn’t here,” she told him on a hunch that it was the straw holding him back.

Finally, he gave a single nod. “All right,” he said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

She moved to her door and opened it. “Come in.”

Theo hesitated at the threshold, his gaze scanning the street one more time before he crossed into the shop. Laurel closed the door behind him. The silence stretched as he looked around, taking in the unfinished walls, the sawdust in the corners, the faint scent of fresh wood and paint.

“This yours?” he asked, his voice low.

She nodded. “It will be. Bookstore and coffee bar. First store I’ve ever owned.”

He nodded slowly, like he didn’t quite know what to do with that piece of information. “It suits you.”

---