Page 22 of A Hard Habit to Break

He paused. “Is that the word of the night?Naked?”

“Oh, that’s such a Noah question.”

His outraged bundle of woman shifted in his arms. Even shadowed, he could make out her lowered chin and parted lips. The sexual tension hummed between them, unspoken, charged with possibility and years of unresolved longing. He smiled, a part of him pleased that the spark of attraction burned eternal. “Me naked—Is that a problem?”

“Yes, Noah. It’s a huge problem.”

She lifted her head higher off his chest, their mouths mere inches apart. “Then don’t look down.”

She threw her head back and whispered, “Too late.”

CHAPTER SIX

THE SECONDRACHELrealized it was Noah who swam in the plunge pool, she should’ve run—for the hills, for help, from her rapidly beating heart. She should have known. Of the three Calvary brothers, Noah had been born with fins and flippers. Like her, he loved the sound of rushing water, the exhilaration of constant movement.

She spotted him and his toned arms slicing through the current. His silhouette had snagged her attention, the muscles visible in his bare back mesmerizing her addled brain. He looked strong and fit. A man who ate his fruits and veggies and drank his milk. Of course, her assessment came from the purest observation, more scientific than appreciation. But a sliver of the ex-girlfriend buried deep in her consciousness was unprepared for the sheer beauty of the naked man who’d been a boy when she’d left.

Curse her crazy kitty for running off and leading her into Noah’s clutches. As if the universe had a funny bone, she’d led her back to Noah and the plunge pool, their spot. And Noah… more imposing, more handsome, impossible to ignore. Tapered and tanned, with broad shoulders and dark hair that had grown thicker. In a word, he was devastatingly appealing.

When he called to her, her first instinct was to run to him.

“Do you… do you want to come inside, Six?”

No… Yes.His voice wavered with the same uncertainty bubbling in her gut. Of course, she wanted inside. In a small town, being nosy was an Olympic sport. He’d completed his cabin since her last visit. The A-frame triangular design exterior, with its rear glass walls and expansive windows, piqued her curiosity about the spacious interior. From the deck, it was too dark to appreciate more than a foot inside the door, but she knew there was an upstairs loft overlooking the main living space—a blend of modern style and natural beauty. Did he sleep among the stars with the moon watching in envy?

What would she find inside Noah’s lair? Framed football jerseys, old pizza boxes, and beer cans. Or, mounted animal carcasses, a gun rack, and custom hunting knives. Then she remembered it was Noah. She’d most likely stumble over the bones of his former conquests and tumble, mouth open, into a pit of discarded bikini bottoms. Frowning at the visual, Rachel met Noah’s eye, then hardened her gaze before the hypnotic power of seeing him, in the flesh, the man who’d starred in her teenage dreams, rattled her restraint. “That would be a hardno.”

“I’m trying to help.” Why did she pick that moment to look at his mouth? The perfect bow in the center of his top lip, the slight downward angle of the fuller bottom. She, being the opposite of ideal, as always, probably looked a bedraggled mess. Benji’s flair had caused a drastic improvement in herprofessional persona, but in full disclosure, Rachel adored cotton and well-worn boots with gel support.

“You’re staring at my lips.” It was Noah, so the arrogance was baked in, but she caught the fast grip of his teeth where her eyes had been, the brief cutaway of his own eyes.

Uncertainty.

“Because they’re moving, when it should be your feet,” she bit out.

“You’re spicy when you’re wet.”

“And you’re glistening like a coconut-oiled cabana boy,” she shot back, her temper heating to match her curls.

He chuckled, then disappeared through the cabin’s hingeless panoramic glass doors. Nice choice for the versatility. Each of the four doors could slide, pivot, or stack, all while maximizing his view of the water.

“Can the handsome cabana man with eye-catching lips offer you a towel?”

Did he want her to want to kiss him? Wait, was that what she wanted? Or had he tricked her into lip-looking? A fantasy unfolded in her mind where she stared at his obnoxiously gorgeous lips. Kissable, suckable, probably tasted like grade A steak on a sizzling plate with steam rising. But if she kissed him, he’d get the win. That’s how Noah’s brain worked. Life, love, boiled down to wins and losses. He calculated his success rate, reviewed old stats, and created new plays to run. In this game, Rachel had to be the victor.

“Nope. In fact, you can drop me off at the clinic. I can walk back home.”

“The clinic’s gone, remember?” he called from somewhere inside. “The first aid kit is under the upstairs bathroom sink. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“That slow?”

“Har. Har,” he laughed. “Let the stars keep you company.”

She’d forgotten how the night sky sparkled over Calvary land, flawless diamonds on a black satin sheet. A porch light afforded a thin beam of illumination inside the cabin, but the shadows obscured most of her vision, for which she was grateful. Her imagination ran unchecked with Noah’s silhouette. If she could see him, then he could see her. And he might recognize how much he still affected her.

Noah stood just inside the open door. He’d slipped into gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt, an imposing figure at his height. Even in the low light, she spotted his brows pulled low and bunched. “Six, seriously. You okay?”

She realized she hadn’t responded to his last statement. She swallowed before answering, “Yeah.” She nodded. “Of course I remember.” She’d forgotten it and herself. Clearing her throat, she asked, “What else has changed… besides the clinic?”