Page 35 of A Hard Habit to Break

A familiar laugh floated toward her. Benji, in an ecru linen shirt and rolled-up sleeves with flowy pants, was somehow already holding two drinks. How had he changed clothes? No way would she have missed his transit to the loft.

“I see you’ve been emotionally ambushed. Isn’t this amazing, FriendFriend?”

Rachel took the drink gratefully. “You knew?”

“Bethany made me pinky swear that first night when she gave me a tour of the barn loft,” he said with a smug grin. “Tucked my ensemble in the closet before you forced that carb-loaded pancake down my throat. I rescued tonight’s playlist. You’re welcome.”

“You’re dead to me, plus one.”

But she wasn’t really angry. How could she be? Benji had seen through her from the moment he’d joined the engineering team. He understood that beneath her polished exterior was a girl who needed a place to belong.

“Says the woman drinking the lemonade I personally spiked with homemade moonshine.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, staring into her half-empty red Solo cup.

“Oh, I dared,” he grinned, watching as the crowd thickened along with the conversation. “Now go change.” He gave her a gleeful grin. “I may have picked the perfect pairing and left it on your bed.”

She nearly jumped in delight. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thought so,” Benji said, shooing her in the house.

Twenty minutes later, Rachel exited the rear porch feeling good. Makeup covered her freckles, and a black kohl liner accentuated her almond-shaped eyes, framed in shimmery green shadow. And the Zimmermann white and yellow floral sundress, a Saks purchase Benji swore he’d drop dead in front of the three-way mirror if she left on the rack, elevated her cleavage from single-story to high-rise.

She skimmed the yard, slowly, not knowing where to start. The Rhode Island Red hens, at least fifteen of the gorgeous red russet fowl, foraged for bugs amongst the newly laid flagstone walkway marking the path from the farmhouse. Ricky’s colorful hackle rose along with Rachel’s. She was never the center of attention. At many of the events she’d attended before leaving,she’d assumed she was only welcome because of Noah, that her place in this community was contingent on their relationship. But here they were, celebrating her return, and Noah was just one face in the crowd. Maybe she’d underestimated her own worth to these people. Maybe she’d always belonged here, with or without him.

Townsfolk waved and pulled her into half hugs. Laughter rose from the patio as fairy lights swayed in the breeze, their warm glow catching in Rachel’s curls as she moved through the crowd with a lemonade in hand.

“Pen?”

Rachel turned at the sound of girly hooting, and a heartbeat later, she was enveloped in a hug that smelled of lemongrass and vanilla. Back in high school, her fellownot itfriend had labeled Rachel as her bestie. Even though the cool kids had moved on from their more public taunts by tenth grade, Pen had Rachel’s allegiance. And Rachel had Noah. She imagined the three of them being together forever. Life proved her teenage fantasy wrong.

“Penelope Lee,” Rachel said, stepping back, eyes wide with delight. “Look at you.”

Penelope grinned, smoothing a hand over her orange wrap dress. “I was about to say the same. You are wearing that dress, sister. The town’s been buzzing about you coming back. That dress is a stinger. You planning to stir up trouble or just hearts?”

Rachel laughed. “Just a wedding arch and building plans. I think that’s enough chaos for now.”

Penelope looped her arm through Rachel’s and guided her toward a quieter corner near the rose bushes. “You know, when we were in high school, I thought for sure you’d be designing skyscrapers in Dubai or Paris by now.”

“I was. Kind of,” Rachel said. “Turns out, I like the San Diego skyline and mixed-use spaces that everyday people can touch.”

Penelope tilted her head, studying her. “And now you’re here.”

Rachel hesitated. “Just for the wedding. Assisting the redevelopment committee. Maybe some late-night swimming in the falls.”

Penelope smiled gently. “You’re so brave for choosing to leave. I never could decide between my career and this crazy community. I had to have both.”

Brave.The word stung because it felt so far from the truth. Leaving hadn’t been brave—it had been self-preservation. “That’s awesome, Pen.”

She nodded toward the dance floor. “It is. That’s my husband out there twirling our son to a country line dance. The loon.”

They both were laughing, lopsided and happy. Rachel thought,This is Service. “Staying worked out for you.”

“Yeah. Taylor’s an accountant, like me.”

“That’s Taylor—from our algebra class?” Rachel bellowed in recognition.

“One and the same, sister. We got married the year after we graduated from high school. Took us a while to conceive. But we’re parents now and doing what we love. It’s a dream, Rach.”