Page 83 of A Hard Habit to Break

“Come on, ClamClam. Let’s head home.”

ClamClam trotted after Rachel, but not before turning to give Pete one final, withering stare that would have made a wiser man reconsider his life choices.

“Dumb cat,” Pete muttered.

“She’s just protective,” Noah said, though he was beginning to wonder if ClamClam might be onto something.

Now, why did the sight of Rachel walking away from his home drive a spike through his heart? And that comment about trust? Of course he trusted her.

“Lady problems, Noah?”

Spinning to face his friend, Noah chuckled. “No such thing, partner.”

“You got that, right. She’ll be lucky to snag Service’s number one son.” Pete walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Though I gotta say, she’s got some mouth on her since leaving town. Reminds me why I stick to quieter women.”

“Rachel’s never been quiet,” Noah said, a note of pride creeping into his voice despite everything. “You just have to pay attention… when women speak with more than words.”

“Yeah, well, a woman who knows how to stay quiet is underrated.” Pete laughed, but there was nothing funny about Rachel’s absence.

Noah looked over his shoulder in the direction Rachel had gone. She’d vanished. His heart lurched in his chest. Tonight, he’d make her understand Pete had the best resources to help Noah win. Deep down, he knew trust was based on actions, not words. Ultimately, what he did now would secure his career and their future. Rachel would sulk about the secrecy until they celebrated his win in the end. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

RACHEL REACHED HERdad’s place in record time. The walk from the Calvary land back to the Johnson family farm had been a blur. She felt uneasy about Noah conversing with Pete—whether from fear of competing ideas or jealous uncertainy, she couldn’t say.Probably both, she thought grimly. Nothing like a good old-fashioned emotional cocktail to keep life interesting.

Whiskers twitching, ClamClam prowled alongside her, tail swaying regally on the well-worn path made smooth with tire treads. Rachel glanced at the room above the barn. A light shone through the pane. She considered visiting Benji, but she didn’t know if she wanted to breach the subject of Noah… and Benji would want all the sexy details. Which she’d generally be ecstatic to share, she mused, except now she was unsure if they were sexy details or red flags wrapped in romantic packaging.

ClamClam trotted into the mud room, moving immediately to her waiting food bowls. Rachel swore the cat ate her body weight in eight-hour intervals. At least someone had their priorities straight, she thought, watching the cat dive into her Kitty Kibble with single-minded determination.

Walking in the back door, Rachel called for her father.

“Dad?”

“No, sorry,” Bethany said, “it’s just us.”

Rachel frowned. Who wasus, she wondered, shucking her dust-covered boots on the custom mat with JOHNSONprinted in a giant serif font. It was a nice touch for a home, the kind of detail that made a place feel permanent and settled, unlike her life, which felt about as stable as a house made of toothpicks.

She found Bethany sitting at the kitchen table with Amarie and Benji. Copies of the renderings Rachel had done earlier were spread out on the table, the salt and pepper shakers pushed aside. Amarie had a purple notebook in hand. Benji’s iPad lay open, but Rachel couldn’t read the website address.

“You look”—Benji paused, before adding—“different.”

Rachel nodded in the affirmative. “I am.” Like a woman who’d just discovered the man she’s falling for again might be hiding something significant? Or like someone who’s questioning whether Noah Calvary actually grew up, or just got better at presenting a shinier version of the same old story?

“Hey,” Bethany said, her voice carrying that gentle concern that made Rachel both grateful and nervous.

“What’s up, big sis?” Amarie winked. “Back to add more shock and awe finishing touches to your plans?”

“Sure.” She sighed. “And giving Noah his space.”

“He doesn’t want that.” Amarie grinned. “That had to be your idea.”

Rachel pondered Amarie’s words. She tended to overthink when it involved Noah. He said he had everything undercontrol. She trusted him. So, why was her stomach twisting in knots? Because maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t overthinking. Maybe she was thinking clearly for the first time since she’d stepped off Noah’s porch.

She needed a distraction. “So, what’s this meeting of the great minds about?”

“We’re working on the final proposal for tomorrow night’s town council meeting.”

“Oh fun, I’m just in time,” Rachel said, grabbing a bottle of water from the wine cooler. The four of them, Bethany, Amarie, Benji, and Rachel, would tackle the town council. A week ago, she never thought this project would bring genuine joy into her life. Today, she was thankful it had arrived. This was solid. Something concrete that she could control.