Page 38 of A Hard Habit to Break

“You drew this today?” he asked, voice low.

“Mmhm. After reading your grant binder, I needed a pick-me-up.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “It’s just a draft.”

“It’s beautiful. You always had a way of seeing the shape of things before they became real. We’ll make Service gorgeous, too.”

Noah’s words settled warm and slow between her ribs. Were they still talking about bricks and mortar? Heat spread beneath her skin, raising her core temperature to what could only be described as a low boil. He leaned in, one hand braced beside hers on the table. Their fingers touched—her pinky grazing his knuckle. Just a brush. Barely there. Still, her pulse kicked. Behind them, one of the horses, Harry, exhaled a long sigh. Another shifted its weight, hooves thudding softly against the floor. ClamClam emerged from the shadows, tail curling high. She padded past their feet with a throatymeowand a rolling purr that curled through the air like velvet.“Mrrrwowww.”

From her cat, that was practically a love serenade. Rachel’s breath hitched.

Noah looked at her, noticing. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Just—remembering.”

“Yeah.” His gaze flicked to her mouth, lingering.

He leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his chest, the faint scent of cedar and water clinging to him.

Rachel didn’t move. Her lips parted. Her heart practically stopped.

His hand rose, fingers ghosting over her wrist. Then, slowly, he took her hand in his and interlaced their fingers.

A breath caught between them. Not a kiss—but something. Something just as intimate.

“You look beautiful tonight, Six. I miss the freckles.”

Noah had been one of the few boys who hadn’t called them spots. When he looked at the imperfections marring her face, her arms, her legs, he saw beauty. “They’re still there.”

Desire flared behind hazel eyes. Rachel saw her body through Noah’s gaze, felt the tightening of his fingers on hers, and gasped at the slow glide of his tongue over his lower lip.

“Six… I’d better go,” he murmured. His voice was rougher now, like it had scraped against the want he wasn’t saying out loud.

He should, but something old and familiar twisted with a taste of something new and exciting, and she wanted him to stay.

Then he let her hand go, turned, and walked out into the moonlight.

Rachel stood alone in the barn’s hush, her skin still tingling. The barn felt empty without him, hollow and aching like her chest. She pressed her hand to the spot on the table where his had been, trying to hold on to the warmth, the connection, the promise of what might be possible if she was brave enough to reach for it. The horses shifted again. ClamClam leapt onto her stool, purring from her perch.

“See you tomorrow, Noah,” she whispered to the dark. It struck her that once upon a time, she had uttered the same words every night with the same giddy anticipation that roamed her dreams.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE SCENT OFmaple syrup and sizzling bacon hit Noah the second he stepped through his mother’s screened rear porch. It was eight o’clock on Saturday morning, but the house was humming like a diner, with pans clanging, someone’s voice raised with animated storytelling, and laughter bouncing off the walls. His brother Eli’s golden retriever, Hiccup, stood from his dog bed by the door and lumbered over to bump his head against Noah’s hand.

Bending down, Noah obliged. “Morning, boy.” He heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. He announced himself just in case the story was about his performance yesterday. His brothers never passed up an opportunity to rib him. And he’d provided them with plenty of cannon fodder. “Mama. I have arrived.”

“Close that door, lil’ rabbit,” his mama called back. “You’re letting the blessings out and the devil in.”

The nickname reminded Noah of PawPaw. He wished his grandfather was alive to see all Noah had accomplished. To see Rachel grown up and successful. To see the family thriving, the vet clinic growing under Eli’s direction. To see their mom learning to do life without their father yet keeping them together on Calvary land.

The spacious kitchen, with its vaulted ceiling, smelled like a big country breakfast. The rich scent of fresh coffee clung to the air. On his left, one of the Dutch door gray cabinets hung open, showing empty spaces where mugs should be. There were simmering pots on the six-burner stove. The natural stone counters were lined with platters overflowing with crisp bacon, smoked sausage links, and slices of scrapple, a local favorite of pork scraps mixed with cornmeal, then pan-fried to perfection. Floral bouquets of peach and white roses, multicolored tulips, and daisies filled the farmhouse sink. Seated at the oak table at the center of the room were Amarie and Eli, hugged up and seconds away from feeding each other. Not that Noah minded the public display, but after another night of being so close with Rachel, yet miles away from any resolution between them, he didn’t need the reminder of what he didn’t have. He had today to remind her they’d worked well together once, that being stuck with him wouldn’t sabotage her career because her dreams were important to him.

“About time,” Amarie breathed. The chair legs scraped against the wood floor. She wrapped Noah in a hug, her head reaching his chest.

“What’s that for?”

“My apologies for yesterday’s meeting. I wanted to root for you. But my big sister-to-be was so amazeballs. You understand.”

“I don’t, Little Miss Double-Sided Coin.”