With Noah, I needed to be careful and feel him out. The last thing I wanted to do was to rush into something. I wasn’t even sure if he wanted a relationship with anyone. He’d certainly kept CJ at a distance, from what he told me.

  I knew plenty of guys like that. Happy for the sex, but talk about anything more than that, and they ran for the hills.

  Not to mention, I was sure I needed time alone to heal. That’s what people did, right?

  Lying flat on his back, Noah inspected under the sink. “Everything looks good down here,” he called out.

  “It was spraying from here.” I pointed as he came out from the cupboard.

  He leaned in to investigate. “You tighten this screw?” he asked, pointing to a tiny hole in the side of the handle.

  I shook my head and leaned in to examine it. “Didn’t even realize that was a screw.”

  “Hand me that Allen wrench.” He nodded to Grandpa Paul’s toolbox, which had become a permanent resident of the kitchen counter.

  After a few twists, Noah turned on the water and the faucet ran smoothly.

  I sighed in frustration. “I was so close.”

  Noah chuckled, a kind look on his face. “Was that your first time?”

  “Yeah, can’t you tell?” I gestured to my shirt.

  “Not at all. You did amazing. One little screw, three little turns. That’s all I did. You did the rest. Good work.”

  His praise shouldn’t have mattered to me, but dammit, it felt good. I smiled at him.

  “Listen,” he said as I smiled to myself. “I have some work to do still, but we should get together soon. Hang out.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I held back any snarky remarks about his friend CJ, even though the immature part of my brain wanted to say something petty. “Anytime.”

  “Great. I have to head out of town for a few days, but after that?”

  “After that,” I said with a nod.

  He stepped closer, hesitantly but expectantly.

  In a panic, I stuck out my hand. He smirked and took it in his, pulled it to his lips, and kissed it.

  All at once, I melted into a puddle as the six-foot-something hunk strode from my house. Keeping my cool around Noah was going to be a Herculean effort.

  15

  * * *

  TAKING A CHANCE

  Noah

  I carried a fresh batch of bottled lager from the shed and handed it up to Austen as he stood in the bed of the truck. It was a small order we needed to fill today at a brewery a few towns over.

  “You apologized yet to Rachel?” I asked.

  He scowled. “I can’t believe she tattled on me.”

  I held back a laugh. Mom had given him hell the next day.

  After heading back down to the shed, I returned with another cartload of boxes.

  “So, that’s a no,” I said, taking the straps off the cart and handing Austen the first box.

  “That’s how she and I are. I tell it like it is, and she comes around eventually.”

  He neatly stacked the umpteenth box and reached for another. We were a well-oiled machine by now.

  “If you’re sure,” I said warily, highly doubtful that Rachel approved of his words.

  Who would want anyone to suggest they couldn’t run their own household? Just thinking about it, even the version he told me, pissed me off.

  “Speaking of Rachel,” he said, and I shot him a warning glance that he promptly ignored as he stacked the next box. “You think we still have any chance of convincing her to sell?”

  “Listen. There’s something you need to know.” My tone was definitely harsh. I was offended on her behalf and starting to seriously question my brother’s sanity. “I don’t want to put words in her mouth, but trust me, she’s not going back to Houston.”

  “Did she say she’s staying for good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he took the last box from me and spun around to place it.

  I hopped into the truck bed with him to secure the straps around the cargo.

  “She lost her job there, okay? So, no, I doubt she’ll be leaving anytime soon. She has no reason to rush off.”

  I didn’t mean to snap at him, but Austen had me loaded like a gun over here when it came to Rachel.

  “She doesn’t belong up here. You know that as well as I do.” He shook his head as he cranked on the strap.

  We hopped from the truck and hit the gravel with a thud.

  “Why do you keep saying that?” I asked.

  He looked thoughtful for the first time since he’d gotten on this Rachel-selling-us-land kick. Then he shrugged. “I just never pictured it.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean anything. Luckily for us all, what you picture and the reality of the world are two unrelated things.”

  I was starting to get really irritated at him then, and felt the strong urge to defend her. I broke out into a passionate speech as he walked around to the driver’s side door.

  “The other night . . . you should have seen it. She delivered a baby in town, and she was practically glowing after that. I think she likes feeling useful here.”

  I was beaming at the thought of it. Seeing Rachel contented filled a hole inside me that I didn’t know I had.

  “Surely, there’s more land available around here?” I said, challenging him.

  Austen wore an exasperated expression as he slid into the driver’s seat. “You don’t think I’ve looked? There’s nothing in town that’s suitable for sale.”

  “Then go further out,” I said as I leaned my arm on his door frame.

  He shook his head. “That creates other logistical issues. It’s time for Plan B. I didn’t want to have to suggest this option, because it’s not the best move for us financially, but what if you convinced Rachel to lease us the land?”

  He turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

  His idea might have had merit, but his little outburst at Rachel the other day meant that I wanted nothing to do with anything involving the words convincing and Rachel.

  I scowled. “We just need to find another option. That’s all there is to it.”

  Austen shook his head. “Dammit, Noah. Thinking with your dick again.”

  Normally, he’d be right. He might have been right the first time, about why I’d pushed off talking to her for so long. But not now. For once, I actually wasn’t thinking with the wrong head.

  Would my dick like to be parked inside of Rachel? Absolutely. But that’s not what this was . . . plus, we seemed to have cosmic bad luck. Anytime we tried to hook up, an obstetric emergency conspired to keep us apart.

  “That’s not it.” I tried to argue, but it sounded feeble and just gave Austen more ideas.

  “You still in love with her, bro? After all these years? After how she left you?” Austen raised a brow as if to say checkmate.

  I shook it off. “No, I’m not still in love with her. And I’m not mad at how she left either. But I still care about her, of course. We all do.”

  Austen shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in ten years. I don’t really know her anymore. You know?”

  I huffed out a breath as he reached out and gently pressed me back.

  “I don’t want to be late. Just think about what I said. Don’t fuck me over in this business, Noah. Not for a chance to hook up.”

  As he drove away, his words swam in my head.

  Was Rachel a hookup?

  She’d been on my mind a lot, but we hadn’t actually spoken in three days. I’d texted once or twice to check in with her, but I had to attend a brewing workshop I’d committed to. I knew she’d been busy restoring the cabin—mainly addressing the long list of shit Austen had reminded her of.

  She’d definitely taken Austen’s advice about winterizing, because I saw the AmeriGas truck hauling a load of propane up the hill yesterday to where her grandfather’s tank was buried.

  Could she really be staying through the winter?

  I knew she was toying with the idea, but there was a fear in the back of my mind that she’d decide to leave after all. I guess because that’s what happened when I was sixteen.

  I knew she’d just graduated, but I was immature and didn’t think ahead back then. It had never occurred to me she was leaving. And she didn’t bother mentioning it until the end of the summer, only a few days before she was set to fly away and out of my life, seemingly forever.

  The loss I’d felt back then had been all-consuming. I’d sulked for days.

  At that moment, as I reflected on it all, those memories burrowed deep in my gut and strengthened a new resolve in me. If I had a shot with a girl like Rachel, I wasn’t going to waste it.

  As soon as I could finish up my work today, I was going to see her. And I’d be damned if I was mentioning Austen’s new harebrained scheme of leasing her land.

  16

  * * *

  MAKING UP

  Rachel

  My phone pinged around three in the afternoon. It was Noah. Before this week, I hadn’t seen a text message from him in so many years, we didn’t even have an existing thread anymore. Hell, that was four or five phones ago.

  Noah: Can I take you on a real date tonight?

  My heart beat harder at his words. A date? Was that where we were heading? Maybe he just meant it in the old-fashioned sense, as in plans between two people. Two friends.

  I could try to tell myself that was all I wanted, but it was pointless. Megan’s words played in my head, urging me to have a little fun. That’s all it had to be, after all. A little fun.

  I texted back a casual “sure” with a smiley face, and he replied with a time. Five o’clock.

  Looking at myself in the mirror that hung in the hallway, I let out a wild laugh. I looked like a ragamuffin, as Grandpa Paul would have said. What that was, exactly, no one could ever figure out. But he said it to me when I needed to comb my hair.

  Apparently, it was time to do a little self-care.

  I stepped into the steaming shower and looked down. How long had it been since I’d shaved? My legs weren’t too bad, but I was definitely, ahem, overgrown elsewhere.

  As quick as I could, I jumped into the cold air that bounced off the wetness of my skin and shuffled through my bag for a razor. Thankfully, I’d packed one. I didn’t even remember tossing it in my bag, but I thanked my past self for whatever intuition must have been there when I was hastily throwing everything I could into a suitcase.

  After my shower, I set to work on my hair and then my makeup.

  How long had it been since I’d made a real effort? I was clearly out of practice, because two hours flew by so fast that I was just buttoning my jeans when Noah knocked on the door.

  A date. With Noah Hart.

  I tried not to inflate it, but it was useless. The butterflies were already fluttering around inside me.

  “Hey, you.” I managed a casual smile as I pulled open the door.

  “Wow. You look . . . incredible,” he said, his eyes wide.

  I frowned and playfully slapped his arm. “Don’t you dare sound so surprised.”

  “You have on makeup,” he said, as if this was proving his point. “And you curled your hair.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “Aren’t men supposed to be blind to those sorts of things?”

  He pulled me in for a hug and laughed. “I’ll let you in on a secret. We’re all lying when we pretend not to notice. You look beautiful tonight.”

  Our eyes connected then. A little part of me wanted to say to hell with the date so I could drag him back to my bedroom.

  But no. I needed to behave myself. And besides, I really needed a normal night out.

  When was the last time I’d left the cabin, other than to hit the hardware store? It was worrying to think about. I’d become a hermit. A hermit who was seriously learning her way around a toolbox, but a hermit nonetheless.

  “You look handsome too.” I lifted my eyebrows, taking in Noah’s dark-washed jeans and soft gray button-down shirt. “So, where are you taking me on this date?”

  I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to find out what he was thinking.

  The way he softly let a breath fall from his nose told me he had caught my meaning. “To dinner at Marcelo’s, and then a surprise location.”

  “Never heard of that place. Is it new?”

  “A few years old, and one town over. You still like Italian, right?”

  “You remembered.” I practically whispered the words. I had, in fact, once told him that I wished I could live in Italy so that everything I ate would be Italian. It was definitely my favorite.

  “You ever get to visit?” he asked. “Italy, I mean.”

  I shook my head. “Not yet.” I grabbed my purse and followed him outside. “It’s still on my bucket list. What about you? Any international adventures?”

  “Like backpacking through Europe?” He laughed. “I’m a cliché, I’m afraid. Jameson, Austen, and I went when I graduated. Logan’s been reminding us lately that it’s his turn soon.”

  “Are you going to take him?” I asked.

  “It’s hard now, with Jameson married and me and Austen so busy, but we hope to find some time.”

  As we drove to the restaurant, I asked Noah a thousand questions about his travels.

  “But Italy is still on my to-visit list,” he said as we pulled into a parking spot at the restaurant.

  I couldn’t help my mind from wandering . . . picturing a romantic scene that involved Noah and charming cobblestone streets, great wine and long walks through the piazza.

  Pulling in a breath, I shut down my outlandish thoughts. Noah, as handsome and sweet as he was, wasn’t my boyfriend. I wasn’t even in the market for one of those. Like, at all.

  The parking lot was crowded, and my stomach rumbled. I worried for a minute that I’d have to wait forever for food, but when we got to the hostess counter, I learned that Noah had made reservations. Knowing the thought he’d put into tonight made my stomach do a little backflip.

  The hostess led us to a table in the back near a large stone fireplace. It was perfectly dark and cozy. The kind of place where you could linger over a delicious meal and great conversation.

  “So, tell me more about what it’s like owning your own brewery,” I said, swirling the red wine in my glass.

  “What would you like to know?” He met my eyes with a sincere look.

  I shrugged. “What’s the best thing about your job, and the worst thing about it?”

  His answer must have popped into his head immediately because he chuckled. “Working with my brother. It’s both the best and the worst.”

  I smiled, watching him. “How so?”

  “Well, getting to work with family is a cool perk. I know I can generally count on the guy, but at the same time, Austen is Austen. He can be a pain in the ass.”

  I nodded, still grinning. These were facts.

  Noah lifted the bottle of red wine from its resting spot on the table and poured a little more into my glass. “Thanks for saying yes to tonight,” he said, his voice low.

  After we ate piles of pasta and more bread than is good for any human, I swiped a mint from the hostess stand and passed one to him too.

  “You trying to tell me something, Rach?” He laughed as he held the door open for me.

  “Yeah, that I plan on kissing you later,” I said with confidence I didn’t know I had.

  “Good to know.” He smiled.

  “Where to next?” I asked, excited to see what else he had planned.

  He shook his head. “You’ll see when we get there.”

  17

  * * *

  ALL NIGHT LONG

  Noah

  There really was no reason to keep it all a surprise, but a little part of me worried Rachel would laugh, or worse, turn down my idea.

  This spot meant something to me, though. I had a thousand fantasies about it. About being here with Rachel. About things ending very differently the next time around.

  “You’re kidding,” she said with a chuckle as we pulled off on the side of the road.

  “Not even a little. You game?” I raised my eyebrows, daring her.

  She held back a smile but nodded. “Yeah, I’m game.”

  We climbed out of the truck, and I grabbed a couple of soft throw blankets from the back. When I looked up, Rachel was already jogging across the big field to the hot springs.

  I knew where she was headed. We both knew.

  Our pool. The one where we first kissed.

  She stopped at the water’s edge, tugging at the hem of her shirt, then paused. “You sure this doesn’t hold bad memories? I did steal your clothes.”

  I eagerly shook my head, a big smile on my face. I wasn’t even going to pretend. “Hell no. Anyway, I was thinking tonight we might make some new, better memories here.”

  In reply, she peeled off her shirt, and I stood there for a second, staring like a horny idiot. Her curves were killer. Black bra. Lacy. Cleavage that I wanted to bury my face in.

  I drew a breath and looked up at the stars, pleading with myself to find some self-control.

  Then I followed suit, unbuttoning my own shirt, but paused before I dropped the garment. “Just promise me one thing?” I fixed a very serious look on my face.

  Rachel’s smile fell, and she gave me a solemn look.

  “Don’t run off with my clothes?”

  Her shoulders bounced as she laughed, no doubt remembering my walk of shame in wet boxer shorts. “No promises.”

  I shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  We watched each other closely as we stepped out of our pants. Her skin was starting to get little goose bumps all over. It was fall now, and the air tonight was chilly.

  A few seconds later, we slipped into the warm water in our underwear, giggling and giddy, as if transported back in time.

  “This is so weird,” she said, grinning.

  “Being back here?” I asked her.