Chapter Six
THE SECOND RACHEL realized 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 hard no.”
“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 her professional 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?”
“Whynot sold its waterfall to the highest bidder, if you ask me. It’s a booming tourist attraction. That quiet town is noisy t’boot, trash littering the sidewalks. It’s a shame that money is moving to the other side of the mountain away from Service, but none of us wants resort condos in our town.”
“Wow, that would be unfortunate for all the families here. The tax increase alone would have a lot of folks losing their land.”
“True.” He nodded, one corner of his mouth dropped into a semi-frown.
Nice to know he still cared for this town and the people in it.
He’d always worked hard to showcase his hometown pride.
Every football game, he led the Service County Otters to victory.
If given a microphone, Noah praised the coaches and the girls who served as athletic trainers and provided the players with food.
He was generous with compliments, including his own.
Rachel had loved every second of it for him.
His friends became her friends. Noah’s spotlight had swung a wide beam into Rachel’s tiny corner, coaxing her from the shadows.
She stayed close, enjoyed his warmth, and then he hit a switch, plunging her back into darkness.
“What’s the town council doing to staunch the loss of community resources? Before Petey, Mayor Austin fought hard for Service to preserve its small-town charm and grow the budget.”
“Pete’s holding off the developers. That’s a start.”
“But… responsible development is necessary for growth and—”
“Hold that thought.” He held up a red zippered bag with a white cross printed on the front. “The patient comes first.” She looked up then, their eyes locking. A white towel hung over his shoulder. With one hand, he held it out to her. “You’re still wet.”
Why did a rush of heat spread through her chest, melting her insides? Swallowing the rise of awareness popping between them, she gripped the plush folds, running the softness over both arms and legs, before gathering the material in both hands to wipe her face.
“Maybe now I’ll get to see your freckles.”
She thrust the towel at him. “You won’t.
Waterproof makeup,” she clipped, tone sharper than the statement warranted.
“When clients’ first question is, What’s your background?
, and you realize they’re not asking about your educational or professional experience, you learn real fast to minimize the distraction, that being my face. ”
Noah’s lips thinned, and then he nodded. Not wanting another woeful side glance, she stared past him, unseeing.
Their fingers brushed as he slipped the damp rag from her limp fingers. “I imagine your beauty does render folks stupid. It does for me.”
Her heart thumped in her chest at the contact. Quicker than her brain could register the action, her gaze flicked back to him. Memories of gentle caresses, soft kisses, and whispered words nailed her.
“Sure about not coming inside to keep warm?”
Along with the timbre of his voice, his eyes dropped to her mouth. Rachel bit back a sigh. She refused to willingly walk into the lion’s den.
“Beyond sure, I do not want to do that.” Just her luck, he’d grab her by the messy red mop of hair, drag her to bed, and…
she’d like it. How could she be this weak for Noah after years apart?
Love might be cruel, but Rachel had a strategy.
His rear deck overlooked the water and was plenty big for the massive misstep she’d made on Day One back in town.
“Now, about that first aid kit,” she prompted, needing to move this encounter to a speedy end.
“Right.” He nodded, waiting as if he expected her to say more, do more. “You want help finding ClamClam after I patch you up?”
Rachel gasped, surprised that he’d volunteered. “You’d risk another encounter?” A twisted grin stretched his lazy smile and, honest to goodness, Rachel’s heart fluttered.
“She’s my gift to you, Six. You know a Calvary man honors his promises.”
Geezuz. They were six years old. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t hold himself accountable to the musings of a child in grief.
His hands were full, the kit in one and the towel in the other.
A wet mop image flashed in her mind just thinking what she must look like to him—matted hair, sagging T-shirt, and Army-camo boy shorts.
Grace and beauty, and the man was both, came naturally to Noah.
Hair tousled, eyes blazing, lips—kissable, snackable.