Page 13 of A Hard Habit to Break

The world seemed to tilt slightly on its axis. Rachel stared at them, momentarily speechless. Work with Noah? Spending hours in meetings with the man who’d broken her heart, who’d chosen his dream over their future? Who still expected the world to arrange itself according to his wishes?

“I’m only here for two weeks,” she managed finally. “The wedding.”

“The committee’s on an accelerated timeline,” Bethany explained. “Major decisions will be made within the next fourteen days. You could make such a difference, Rachel.”

A sudden image flashed in her mind. Noah’s guilt on prom night, when she’d confronted him about the rampant rumors, when she’d refused to stay in Service. The hurt, the anger, the utter incomprehension that she could choose something else—anything else—over him.

“I don’t think I can help, sorry.”Not sorry.

“MRAAAAAAAAAAAAAOWWWWWWWWW!”ClamClam howled from inside the truck, as if offering her opinion on the matter.

“Your cat seems enthusiastic about you thinking on the matter,” her father observed with a small smile.

Before Rachel could respond, the distinctive rumble of a powerful engine drew everyone’s attention to a gleaming red truck approaching from the town side of the road. Her heart stuttered as the vehicle slowed to a stop behind the goats.

The driver’s door swung open, and a tall figure in a pressed uniform stepped out, Pro Warrington boots polished to a black diamond finish, navy pants pulled smoothly over lengths of conditioned muscle, a silver badge pinned to a broad chest that reached her before the rest of him. Time seemed to suspend as he adjusted his hat, revealing a chiseled jaw, pillowy bottom lip, and a bronzed face that had haunted Rachel’s dreams.

Noah Calvary, somehow even more handsome than she remembered, raised his head and surveyed the scene with those keen hazel eyes. Then his gaze locked with hers, and a slow, devastating smile spread across his face—equal parts surprise, pleasure, and pure cowboy.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his deep voice carrying easily across the distance. “If it isn’t Rachel Johnson, come home to cause trouble.”

One of the goats bleated loudly, as if in greeting. ClamClam responded with another ear-splitting howl. And Rachel stood frozen, caught between her past and her future, as Service, West Virginia, wrapped itself around her once more.

She’d walked away from Noah Calvary once. But something told her that this time, escape wouldn’t be so simple.

CHAPTER THREE

NOAH HADN’T MEANTto box Rachel in, preventing an escape. It just happened when he spotted the Ford F-150 with those ridiculous black rims, the kind only city folk thought looked good, parked in the middle of the road, his muscle memory registered the threat. It wasn’t a city slicker with more money than sense. It was Rachel herself, standing there, looking like she’d just stepped off a magazine cover. One glance and his body saidgowhile his brain sat on the sidelines with popcorn waiting for the…and, actionscene in his live stream romantic comedy of errors.

Thirteen years hadn’t changed her much. That was the first knife twist. The second was how good she looked in those tailored pants and that silky blouse pinned up to her neck, which caught the late afternoon sun and made her glow like an urban goddess incarnate. Her red curls had gotten longer, tumblingpast her shoulders in a way that made his fingers itch to touch them, to see if they still felt like warm silk.

“My biggest fan in the flesh,” he called out, unable to keep his drawl from deepening. “Here to cheer me on.”

One of Matthew’s goats, Diana, the ringleader, bleated loudly, echoed immediately by an unholy yowl from the tricolored tabby perched inside Rachel’s truck. Perfect circus soundtrack for this little reunion.

Rachel’s spine straightened, those copper-hued eyes narrowing in a way that used to mean he was in for it.Some things never change.He watched her face pinken with a velvet rose, and her mouth tighten into that stubborn line he’d once spent hours kissing into submission.

“Lieutenant Calvary,” she greeted him with exaggerated formality, extending her hand like they were strangers at a business meeting. “Or would you prefer #TomCatNoah hot firefighter?”

Hmm, she’d checked out his TikTok page. Her hand felt smaller than he remembered, but just as warm. He held it a beat too long, just to watch her squirm. And didn’t that have an undesirable effect on his body?Stupid move, Calvary.

“No need to add thefirefighter. You can call meHot,” he replied, releasing her hand and nodding toward the goats. A red tint started covering her nose. Noah gave himself a high five for a job well done. He could still turn her the prettiest shade of red. Clearing his throat, he said, “Your father’s livestock is obstructing a public thoroughfare.”

Matt stepped forward with a wry,don’t go theregrin. “They’re exercising their First Amendment rights, Noah.”

“Pretty sure goats were excluded from constitutional rights, Matt,” Noah said, but couldn’t stop his lips from twitching. “Unless your daughter and her boyfriend want to argue otherwise.” Yep, he’d noticed the California dreamin’ male riding with Rachel.

“Not that it’s your business,” Rachel began, just as the tall blond man beside her said, “We’re partnered, but not coupled.”

Interesting. Confusing.Noah felt something coiled in his chest, something he refused to acknowledge.

“He’s my colleague,” Rachel clarified, gesturing to the man. “Benjamin Wiles. He’s here to help me,” she belatedly added, “with—”

“Anything else she might require,” the man added with a playful grin that made Noah want to aim a football at his head.

Noah nodded curtly. “Benjamin.”

“Benji,” the man corrected, offering his hand. “And you must be the infamous Noah. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, which means I’ve heard everything.” Then he leaned in and sniffed Noah’s shirt.