Page 37 of A Hard Habit to Break
“You settling into the idea of us together?”
“If by ‘settling’ you mean being locked into this committee project with you and then lovingly smothered by half the zip code—sure.”
He chuckled, eyes softening. “Tomorrow’s my day off. Thought I’d hit the lumber yard in Whynot, pick up somematerials for the ceremony arch. Unless you had something different in mind?”
Her pulse tripped. “Actually, that could work—I sketched a draft.”
“When did that happen?”
She could slip on her professional mask, pretend this afternoon had left her unaffected, and on task. But, with Noah, she had always shown her true self—pale skin dotted with brown freckles, curls that tangled more than spiraled without their daily dose of control mousse.
“After the meltdown, before the surprise party. It’s in the barn.”
His smile deepened, but he didn’t push. “You want to show me?”
She hesitated for a beat too long. “Yeah. Sure. Let me grab the flashlight.”
“The barn?” Benji asked, materializing with the flair of someone who’d been just out of earshot. “Is that where a high school jock and the farmer’s daughter sneak off to after bonfires and Sunday school?”
Noah tilted his head, glaring at her plus one. “Go find something safe to do.”
“Whew,” Benji chirped. “Don’t go Cowboy Bebop on me. I spoke my truth. Have fun in the hay bale, FriendFriend. I know I will.”
Rachel groaned. “Benji.”
But he was already backing up, with a smug smile and a cupcake in hand. “Don’t mind me. Just saying Stella shouldn’t miss an opportunity to get her groove back.”
Noah shot him a dry look, then turned back to her. “Ready?”
She nodded. Her fingers trembled slightly as she raised her cup and downed the contents. He raised an eyebrow, clocking the motion.
“Liquid courage?” He winked.
Rachel grimaced as the brew burned a path to her belly. “Most likely chemical restraint.”
A wicked grin spread over Noah’s features. “Don’t hold back on my account.”
Trust and believe, she did them both a favor. Two weeks would come fast. There’d been enough hurt between them. Rachel might not want more than they once had, but she wouldn’t intentionally hurt Noah. Even as kids, Noah held on tight. Why entertain the possibility of more? They walked away slowly, the noise of the party dimming behind them. Rachel could feel the weight of Noah’s presence beside her, steady and unspoken. She didn’t dare glance at him.
The neon light beams bounced along the grass, illuminating the familiar path between the trees and the barn.
And just like that, she was sixteen again. Barefoot. Breathless. Pressed against weathered wood with his hands in her hair, and the world held still by moonlight.
“You still think about it?” she asked softly, surprising herself.
He didn’t answer right away. “Every time I drive past this barn.”
The wooden door creaked open beneath Rachel’s hand, revealing the warmly familiar scent of hay, dust, and horses. A single lantern glowed near the tack wall, throwing shadows across the interior.
A breeze slipped through the cracks in the wood, brushing over her bare arms like a whisper. Somewhere toward the back, the horses shuffled and snorted, tails swishing.
Noah followed her inside, his boot-falls quiet against the straw-scattered floor. The air felt thick, not heavy, but charged, like a thunderstorm about to break just beyond the hills.
“Over here,” she said, motioning toward the worktable in the corner.
Her sketch lay open on top—lined in pencil, detailed with soft smudges of charcoal. She reached for it, and Noah stepped closer, their shoulders bumping.
Neither moved away.
