Page 48 of A Hard Habit to Break
“Noah, what’s your plan to slow the God Squad down?” Deuce demanded.
Noah lifted the tail of his T-shirt and then wiped the sweat from his eyes. “Why am I the one charged with our rescue?”
Jimmy piped up. “On account of it was your ego that spat us into the direct, and I mean the direct, fire of God.”
“Yeah,” Deuce agreed. “That Benji may be California love, but he tackles like I stole his mama’s purse,” their friend lamented, collapsing in the dandelion weeds sprouting in parts of the field.
Stroker spoke up, his tone more impressed than annoyed. “He catches, runs, and throws as good as you, Noah.”
“Better.” Jimmy frowned. “I haven’t seen a guy our age that fast outside of the NFL.”
“Are you bunch of senior citizens done? Do you want to kill them with kindness or win the game? They’re a fine enough team. So are we,” Noah proclaimed, ignoring the nods of agreement from the hay bale gallery. “We don’t know his moves. So what? He doesn’t know all our tricks.”
“I’m all tricked out,” Deuce said.
Tobias ambled over from the sidelines, the red cross emblem stretching a little prouder across his straight back. “If your team needs medical assistance, brother, I have my first aid kit.”
Noah didn’t take kindly to the ribbing. He didn’t lose at sports, any sport, especially to a plus one and his two brothers.
“Keep your kit, traitor,” he called back.
“Oh, that’s rich, Noah. You’re the one who never picks his brothers for teammates.”
“’Cause I want to win,” Noah snapped.
Tobias’s grin widened. “Yeah, I admit, it feels great to hear my name cheered from the stands.”
“Next touchdown is game,” Rachel smirked.
The portable scoreboard blinked with the news of a tied game. A shrill ringing of cell phones, all from Noah’s team, cut through the cheers and speculations.
The crowd fell silent. Noah’s pulse shot from steady into a full-on gallop. Noah looked past the others to find Rachel. A spark formed in his gut and then spread down his spine.
A fire.
Dangerous and needy called him on two fronts, and Noah would answer. Behind her focused gaze, the fear flickered in smoky irises. demanding that he allay her concerns. The other spark burning in Rachel’s eyes, he prayed, would simmer on a slow burn for when he returned. And he would return to collect on the heat blazing in the taut lines of her body. As the gravity of the situation strengthened, determination demolished everything in its path.
In an instant, reality reminded Noah that Rachel was more than the woman who’d ripped out his heart. He risked his life for strangers every day; now he’d wage war for her to rescue him from the urge to pull her into his arms, to take a kiss from her plush lips to cool the wild desire coursing through his veins. As if drawn, her feet moved in his direction.
“Noah,” she called, her voice trembling with emotion.
Without a word, he made his way across the field. With each step, the weight of years of longing and regret faded.
He took her hand. Rachel looked at their fingers intertwined before looking up into his determined eyes.
“I’m the best at what I do, Six. I’ll come back to you.”
She pressed their joined hands to his chest, right over his heart. “You promise?”
“Promise,” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the roar of energy moving through the crowd. There was no room for doubt in his words, so he wrapped one arm around herwaist and hauled her close. With her head resting on his chest, she had to hear his heart rushing into a gallop, eager for tomorrow. Her warm breath brushed against his skin, a sweet goodbye kiss as another wall crumbled away. Noah forced himself to let go… for now. “Folks are gonna need the basics after a fire. Y’all start digging in your closets and cupboards. You’ll know soon enough where to deliver your offerings.”
Several heads dipped in acknowledgment, including Rachel’s. As she vanished from his sight, one thought ruled him. He would fight, battle a thousand fires to hold her again. And a Calvary man kept his promises.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PETTY.JUVENILE.
These were just a few words Rachel used to berate her actions on the field. She should’ve cheered for both teams. She didn’t hate Noah. Just—she couldn’t like him. That didn’t stop Rachel’s heart from pounding or the turmoil churning in her head. Rachel wanted to hop in her truck, drive across Cattail Creek, and go find him. Bring him to safety. Their lunchtime football game seemed like days ago, instead of a mere six hours. Under a billowy gray sky ravaged by smoke, the sun had vanished. The fire still raged out of control from the vicinity of the trailer park she’d visited only days earlier. Was he trapped by encroaching flames on both sides? Would the last words between them be laced with regrets and longing?
