Page 36 of A Hard Habit to Break

Rachel’s gaze softened as she took in the scene. “I’m happy for you—for the both of you. You make it seem so easy.”

“It’s not,” Penelope said. “But it’s worth it. You have to want it enough. Our office is downtown. Stop by sometime, please. We’re on your side with the clinic. Driving forty minutes from Whynot with a crying toddler strapped in a rear car seat after immunization day is mommy torture. Taylor volunteers as the town treasurer, and he’s the fifth council member. Bethany has our vote, and he’ll make sure the money goes where it’s supposed to once it’s allocated—wink, wink.”

She smiled, nodded, and listened to updates about kids, casseroles, and committee drama. But her gaze kept drifting.

Across the patio, Rachel caught sight of Noah talking, head tipped back in laughter, the porch light catching the edge of his jaw. Kanaan, Noah’s cousin, laughed along with someone dressed in navy with the firehouse emblem on his chest. Noah wore that same cocky confidence, now in dark jeans, a button-down rolled to his elbows, and the weight of a thousand unspoken words in his steady gaze.

Their eyes met. For a beat. Maybe two.

Then he looked away.

“If you do stir up some hearts while you’re home,” Penelope added, following her gaze, “I say go for it. Especially that one. You two were never quite finished, were you?”

Rachel blinked and looked down into her drink. “I don’t know.”

“Then maybe it’s time to find out.”

Instead of agreeing, Rachel pasted on a smile. “Let’s talk soon, Pen.”

Benji walked up, tucking himself into her side like he had a secret to share. “Oof, FriendFriend, Noah’s giving you the soulful stare. That man has feelings.”

“Don’t,” Rachel warned.

“Don’t what?” Bethany asked, eyes dancing with playfulness, as she sandwiched Rachel between them.

Benji, so eager to form a drama duo, started talking. “Acknowledge that Noah ‘Hot Guy’ Calvary is ready to pull up to Rachel’s fire engine and connect his big hose.”

“OMG, Benji. Shut it.”

“Too late,” Bethany chimed in. “Benji’s right. And Noah cleaned up nicely today. I’m just saying.”

Rachel shook her head. “You’re both fired.”

Bethany elbowed her playfully. “Admit it. Part of you missed this.”

Rachel looked around. Her dad laughing with the Zunigas.Kids playing tag near the toolshed. The smell of hickory-smoked brisket, wildflowers, and home.

“Maybe,” she whispered, “I did—a little bit.” Then she sighed. “I also miss Caribbean cafés and people who don’t know my eighth-grade GPA.”

“Give it a day,” Benji said. “You’ll remember why this town truly gets under your skin. Spoiler alert”—he waited a beat—“it’s not the grades, it’s his waves. Oh, that hair.”

“Is that a Noah reference?”

“I’m just here for the cupcakes and drama, FriendFriend.”

Rachel leaned into the swing of conversation and laughter, catching up with old teachers, childhood friends, and folks she hadn’t seen since high school. But a constant hum buzzed beneath her skin.

She didn’t have to look up to know he was coming. The air shifted when he moved. Noah always had that effect—like the storm that rolled in silently and suddenly, all pressure and heat.

“I wanted to check on you,” he said, his voice low and warm, caressing her body, which no one had touched in months.

Rachel turned slowly. He stood beside her now, arms crossed loosely, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m fine.” Her throat tightened around the word.

“Is that always your first response?”

“When it fits.” She glanced at his rolled sleeves, strong forearms; the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides like he didn’t quite know what to do with them.