Page 60 of A Hard Habit to Break

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

AND HOW COULDshe forget his…Stay forever. Her body would certainly remember his claiming. Her skin still tingled, while her muscles hung loose and languid, as if Noah’s lovemaking had pulled her body into a new state of being.

Now Rachel lay beside Noah, awake in the dark, listening to the soft cadence of his breath as he slept. His arm curled loosely around her waist, as if even in sleep, he couldn’t quite let go. The air was still, quiet in that soft, reverent way night tends to be—like the world was holding its breath, just for her.

The vaulted shiplap ceiling cast subtle shadows across the cabin. The rustic, charming, solid cabin that Noah had built. Nestled into the trees like it had always been part of the landscape. And Noah, doing his Noah thing, had built it exactly where they used to daydream about it, back when they were muddy-kneed adolescents lying belly-down in the grass,sketching castles and cabins and futures in her spiral notebook. Back then, he’d promised to build her a place right here, where the water curved like a smile and the sunsets made everything glow like firelight.

And Noah, being Noah, had done it.

A real cabin. A front porch. That ridiculous, expansive rear deck shaped like a crescent moon she pretended not to notice while secretly marveling at its construction.

She could almost hear his teenage voice in her ear, cocky and sweet and so sure of himself.You’ll see, Six. I’m gonna build this for you one day. On Calvary land. Then you’ll stay forever.

How could she stay?

The thought twisted through her like a thorn.

Yes, today had been magical. But great sex didn’t fix geography. It didn’t erase time. Because she didn’t live in Service, and this love shack wasn’t just a romantic getaway, no… It was a fork in the road. Noah wanted forever, but what did that even look like now? Would having him require her to sacrifice the life she’d built? Her life—her whole life—was on another coast. A condo with a coveted view of the San Diego Bay. A job she loved. A team that relied on her. Respect and credibility she’d fought tooth and nail for. And a cactus plant she’d finally kept alive for more than six weeks. That had to count for something.

She closed her eyes and let herself pretend for a moment that this was home. That staying was simple. That forever was just a matter of saying yes.

But reality had a way of creeping in through the ache in her chest. What if they ruined each other… again? Only this time, they weren’t kids who could bounce back. And even if her heart was busy turning to goo over cabins and deck designs, her brain was waving a very large, very red flag.

She could still hear Pete’s voice, too. From years ago. Prom night.

“Put a ring on her fast, bro. Knock her up if you have to. Girls like Rachel don’t leave if they’ve got a baby and a backyard.”

It had made her sick then, hearing Noah laugh along, like trapping her was no big deal. Like that was love. Like she was a checkbox on someone else’s life plan.

The next morning, when Noah had come to the farm, gotten down on one knee with his PawPaw’s ring and that damn crooked smile, she’d known—known—if she didn’t leave, she’d never find herself outside of him.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, vibrating so hard it nearly launched itself onto the wood floor.

“Don’t you dare,” she muttered, fumbling for it, before the racket woke Noah from his deep slumber.

Benji:Okay FriendFriend, just

checking in to make sure you’re

alive, not kidnapped, and didn’t

end up in a Roku docuseries.

Text me back or I’m calling Liam

Neeson.

Rachel snorted. “Great timing,” she said to no one, possibly the universe. “Really nailed the mood.”

She typed a quick response.

Rachel:Tell Liam to stand down.

Still breathing—barely. Think

Mr. & Mrs. Smith cardio with…

more stamina.