Page 18 of Bennett

“Much better to tell her than to let her find out from someone else,” he said.

Carter shot him a look. “Man, I like living. I’ll tell her.”

Bennett gave a slight nod, turning back toward the damage. He could already picture how Annie would take the news—not with fear, but with the kind of stubborn fury that made him glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

And Laurel?

She’d be pissed.

For some reason, that thought stuck with him longer than it should have.

Chapter Four

Laurel had just finished stacking plates onto a tray when her aunt’s tone shifted mid-conversation.

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop—okay, maybe a little—but Annie wasn’t exactly subtle when something irritated her.

“What do you mean, another one?” Annie’s voice carried over the soft clatter of dishes as she balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder. “Damn it, Carter.”

Laurel’s curiosity sharpened. Her aunt rarely sounded this rattled, which meant something was seriously wrong.

She moved closer, wiping off the counter as an excuse to linger. Annie listened to whatever Carter was saying, her fingers drumming impatiently on a laminated menu. Then she sighed, rubbing her temple with her good hand.

“All right. Thanks for letting me know.” A beat of silence. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send someone.”

Laurel straightened at that. Send someone where?

Annie ended the call and exhaled sharply. “Well, hell.”

“That bad?” Laurel asked, wiping her hands on a dishrag.

Annie glanced up, frustration etched in her expression. “Someone wrecked more of the renovation site last night. Brandi’s gonna lose her mind when she sees it.”

Laurel frowned. “More? What do you mean, more?”

Her stomach twisted. This was the first she was hearing of it.

Her uncle had poured decades of blood, sweat, and tears into that business, the same way Aunt Annie had with the diner. After he’d passed, her aunt had agonized over whether to sell the old furniture store or try to breathe new life into it. The decisionhadn’t been an easy one. Annie had spent over a year mulling it over before finally deciding that selling wasn’t an option. Instead, she would transform the building into something that could benefit the community—a vision her husband had always believed in.

And now, someone was trying to destroy it.

Her chest squeezed at the thought.

“There have been little things, but this time there was more damage,” her aunt replied, her expression tight with frustration.

Laurel frowned. “What kind of damage?”

Annie sighed. “Carter didn’t say too much. Just that it’s bad enough Mac told him to call Gabe, and they’re waiting on him now.”

Now her gut twisted.

Not good if the sheriff was called in.

Laurel glanced toward the door, feeling a tug of urgency. “Since you’re the owner, you’ll probably need to be there.”

Annie shook her head, then pinned her with a look that made it clear she’d already made up her mind. “You go.”

She blinked. “Me?”