Page 95 of Bennett

Bennett wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and held her there.

Silent. Solid.

You are what damn sure matters, he thought, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Chapter Nineteen

Three days later, in that familiar late-morning lull, Laurel moved behind the diner counter, balancing a fresh pot of coffee in one hand and swiping her dish towel across the laminate with the other. Her gaze flicked to the corner where Annie was supposed to be sitting, sipping her herbal tea and behaving like a model patient.

Instead, just forty-eight hours after her second wrist surgery, the darn woman was trying to refill the napkin dispensers with her non-dominant hand like she had something to prove.

“Aunt Annie,” Laurel warned, using her mom voice, the one she’d perfected over the past two weeks. “You are supposed to be resting.”

Annie froze mid-napkin stuff, then turned with exaggerated innocence. “I’m sitting while I do it.”

“You’re perching. And scheming. Which is basically exercising for you.”

Belinda snorted as she passed with a tray of clean glasses. “Told you she was going to try it. Give her ten more minutes and she’ll be back on the griddle flipping pancakes one-handed.”

“I would never,” Annie said with mock offense. “Not while the stitches are still fresh.”

“Laurel,” Pete called from the kitchen pass-through. “You want me to put her in a booth and duct tape her to the seat?”

“I’ll allow it,” Laurel said, pouring a fresh cup for Mr. Crawford at the counter, “only if we use the neon pink tape from the to-go drawer.”

“Classy,” Belinda said. “Very on brand.”

Annie huffed but dropped the napkin holder like it had personally offended her. “I’ve been cooped up for two days. You expect me to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you all run around?” she asked, rising to her feet to face them.

“Yes,” Laurel said at the same time Belinda muttered, “Absolutely.”

Annie narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to remember this the next time one of you needs a favor.”

“Sure, you will.” Laurel walked around the counter and took her aunt gently by the elbow, steering her back toward the padded booth by the window. “Now sit. Sip your tea. And let Belinda and me do the hard stuff for once.”

“You mean like run this place without me?”

Laurel gave her a pointed look. “Your brother raised me to be capable. Don’t act surprised when I prove it.”

Annie grumbled under her breath but sat with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But if the place burns down while I’m out of commission, I’m blaming you.”

“I can live with that,” Laurel said with a smile, then turned back toward the counter, shaking her head.

Her aunt might be down, but she was far from out and keeping her on light duty might be the toughest challenge yet.

The bell over the diner door jingled.

Rylee stepped inside, her dark ponytail swinging. “Hey, Laurel. Just picking up a to-go order for ESI and grabbing a tea for my brother, Josh. He has a second interview with the DA this morning.”

She’d met the man when the entire Bryson family stopped in for breakfast yesterday. He had the same dark hair as the others, his still cut military short. It suited him, showing off his gorgeous blue eyes.

Laurel grinned. “Best of luck to him! Give me two minutes. Pete’s boxing up your food now.”

“Thanks.” Rylee smiled. “But he won’t need luck. Josh won any race or contest he was ever in and succeeded in every position he occupied. This job is as good as his.”

“Huh. An over-achieving Bryson. Who would’ve thought?” Annie snickered. Then she raised her chin and turned her attention to Laurel. “So, your dad called to check on me this morning. Said you two talked about you staying here permanently and opening a bookstore in your uncle’s building.”

“You are?” Rylee perked up immediately, her expression brightening.

---