Page 82 of A Hard Habit to Break

“Come on.” She rolled her eyes. “The house, the location. It’s the trophy you think I want.”

“You said you did,” he defended, heat in his voice.

“Yeah, when I was six years old. We’re adults, and I want more than a house by the water and a ring.”

“Don’t forget the hair,” he groused.

She grabbed his face. “That was your idea.”

“It worked,” he muttered, thinking back to their high school days. “Until it didn’t.”

“I love your hair and the house, but I love you more. That’s what I want, your whole heart. Fears, secrets, hopes, and dreams. I want you to be honest with me about what’s really going on in your life. Don’t keep things from me.”

Noah lowered his head and claimed her mouth. The kiss, gentle as a breeze, powerful as a summer storm, tore through him. Rachel raised up on her tiptoes. When she swayed, Noah looped a strong forearm around her back, steadying them against the onslaught of emotions. When he broke away, both their breathing came in a rush. “If you love me”—he looked up till their eyes met—“then trust me.”

“I see I came just in the nick of time.”

Rachel jerked at the sound of Pete’s voice. Not releasing her, Noah turned to see his best friend standing on his rear deck. ClamClam had abandoned her perch to stand sentry on the steps leading down the lawn, her back arched like a Halloween cat who’d spotted a particularly offensive ghost.

“Evening, Clam,” Pete said with forced cheer. “Still holding that grudge, I see.”

ClamClam’s tail twitched once, the feline equivalent of flipping him off.

“She’s got excellent taste in people,” Rachel muttered under her breath.

“Thanks for coming, Pete.”

“Of course. I’m always here to help with your problems. How you doing, Rachel? You look a little peaked.”

“Gee, thanks for mentioning my looks yet again. Save your Petey-isms for an unsuspecting victim. ’Cause, to be frank, it’s getting old, and I’ve been better,” she said, sarcasm dripping venom onto a contentious conversation. “Though I have to say, your timing is impeccable. Do you have a relationship disruption radar, or is this just natural talent?”

Pete laughed off the dig, the full-bodied smile genuine. But Rachel didn’t soften one bit. And what the heck was a Petey-ism? “Just lucky, I guess.”

“Oh, we’re all feeling lucky tonight—not,” Rachel said sweetly.

ClamClam chose that moment to emit a high, disapproving “MRAAAAAAAAAAAAOWWWWWW!” that sounded suspiciously like agreement.

Noah heard the barely contained hiss when Rachel next spoke. “You called him?”

Noah cut a sideways glance at his woman. He winced at the lightning burning in her eyes. “Just want to talk a few big-picture redevelopment issues with the mayor. He’s got eyes and ears on local politics,” he defended. “This complaint. Pete’s got intel. You understand, right?”

ClamClam made a sound that was half-purr, half-snicker.

Rachel moved to leave. “I have the revised renderings in my office. All three of us can go over them together.”

Noah tightened his hold. “Not this second, okay.”

Rachel rounded on him, her voice a whisper yell, which he found impressive and intimidating coming from such a petite package. “Are you going to show him our design idea that will support everyone? Or are you going to just advocate for yourself?”

He pulled back. The move created space, neither one of them closing the divide. “Six, really?” Taking a long exhale,Noah reached for a calm he didn’t feel in the moment. The heat had climbed several degrees since Pete’s arrival, and Rachel, well, her glare held hot coals. “This meeting is just me and Pete. Not chairman and mayor.”

“Oh, I understand,” she hissed. “Pete’s your go-to guy for everything except, apparently, sex after a hard night of firefighting.”

“Come on, Six. Tell me you get this is for us.”

“Yeah, I do. You trust his opinion,” Rachel said, her voice honey-sweet with acid undertones. Before he could say anything else, she started to walk away. “I have some stuff to finish up at my dad’s place. I’ll leave you boys to your very important, very secret tag team meeting.”

Not looking back at him, she threw up one hand, offering a casual farewell. Noah knew better. He’d hurt her.