Page 68 of A Hard Habit to Break

NOAH WAS HAPPYto watch Rachel work at a craft she obviously loved. She hadn’t said she was his—yet. But he couldn’t be more proud to see her accomplishments manifest right here in Service with the folks who loved her best. He’d forgotten the joy they once shared in building together. Witnessing her create for this wedding, hearing her enthusiasm for the redesign, affirmed his belief that Rachel belonged here in Service with him by her side. Perhaps when he retired from the firehouse, they could start a business and work for themselves.

He knew she enjoyed her work in San Diego, but home came first in his book. It was past time the hometown crowd saw her talent. Back when they were kids, her skills with wood, textiles, and mud pies had been undervalued. Anyone with eyes could appreciate her skill with a tool belt and design.

The real magic happened as Rachel transformed the barren patch of grass into a rustic wedding postcard of white-painted wine barrel tables, burlap-wrapped mason jar centerpieces, and soft earth tones to add a touch of casual elegance. Not everyone shared the joy of working together with their fellow neighbors. He grinned as Cheyenne stomped to her girl truck, a speckled trail of red gel polish dotting the construction site like a crime scene. Pete didn’t appreciate Rachel soiling his custom shirt, either. She showed more mercy than Noah possessed.

His friend, far from stupid, had acted with the intention of making Rachel jealous. But why? Noah had enough friendship to spread on both sides of the bread, best friend and best girl. Besides, no one, not even Pete, could distract Noah from his mission of making Rachel his, forever.

“I can’t believe you intentionally dirtied up two of our fellow citizens of Service.”

“Believe it. Cheyenne had it coming. Showing up on my farm, talking about helping hands and my spots. Who does she think I am?”

“I love your freckles. And who do you want her to think you are?”

“Rachel ‘Not to be toyed with’ Johnson.”

Noah chuckled. “Bit long for a name tag. How ’bout, ‘Noah’s girlfriend’?”

“Are you seriously trying to distract me right now? Do you see this hammer in my hand?”

“You’ve been distracting me for days. Turnabout’s fair play. Right, Six?”

“I swear you’re worse than Ricky when he gets his tail feathers in a ruffle.”

“Like Ricky. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

“Is that a Calvary man motto?”

“It is when I want someone.”

“Noah.” She glanced over in warning. They’d made progress on the wedding arch. Rachel had opted for a square over a round for ease of construction. The latticework would be added before they raised the structure and anchored it in place.

He gave her a wide-eyed stare. “Rachel.”

She sighed. “Can we just agree that we’re still sexually compatible, that it may be a lifelong affliction, and then ignore it?”

He narrowed the distance between them. “Now, what good would that serve? All I’ve been thinking about is kissing the ever-loving, poured-into-those-jeans curves out of you.”

She bent at the hip, tempting him with her derriere. “These jeans?”

“Aa ha, that would be them,” he said, hooking her around the waist.

A trio of ladies from the Black Bear staff chose that second to walk by the open barn doors, carrying rectangular pans covered in foil wrap.

One stage-whispered, “I guess last night wasn’t enough for him.”

“Gracie Lou, you and Caleb were doing the same thing in the storeroom not two hours ago,” came Mrs. Lois’s tinny soprano.

Noah turned, waving at their audience. “Afternoon, Lois… Gracie Lou. We’re working on the new redevelopment plan after this. Any suggestions?” Not that he fully embraced Rachel’s plan, but he had agreed to work as a team. To her credit, the town needed more than two upgrades.

Laughter from both women reached them. “Another restaurant,” Gracie Lou shouted, then added, “You two have fun redeveloping each other.”

Rachel buried her face in his chest, her skin blushing a beautiful rose behind her freckles. “Noah.”

She said his name with all breathy vowels and heated syllables.

“I’m listening,” he whispered, lowering his nose to brush along the shell of her ear.

“I’ve been working hard all day,” she whispered.