A Hard Habit to Break

Book 2: The Calvary Brothers

by Siera London

Genres: Small Town & Rural; African American Romance

Synopsis

A small town wedding is going to bring together firefighter Noah and architect Rachel for the first time since their tragic break up... and force them to learn to work together to save their town of Service, West Virginia--perfect for fans of Farah Heron and Sajni Patel.

It's been fifteen years since Noah Calvary and Rachel Johnson last saw each other when they broke up on that fateful prom night. Since then, Rachel has been building up her career as an engineer in California. And Noah is now a firefighter, protecting his small hometown of Service, West Virginia, never dreaming of leaving. His devotion to those he loves has paid off and he's finally up for the promotion to fire chief only to learn that the role isn't as guaranteed as he thought it would be.

Then Rachel returns to Service as her dad is getting remarried, something she was never sure if she'd be okay with after her mother died when she was so young. But nothing could have prepared Rachel to come face to face with Noah again  the man who broke her heart. When they find themselves working together to secure redevelopments that Service really needs, they’re reminded why they once loved each other. But old habits are hard to break. Will Rachel and Noah find their way back to each other, or will they break apart all over again?

Release date: August 11, 2026

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 352

Sample

Twenty-five years later

NOAH CALVARY STRUTTED into the Service County Fire Station under West Virginia egg yolk sunshine on Thursday morning, ready to prop his boots, polished to an obsidian crystal shine, on a new desk. For him, the elevator of life went in one direction—up. He operated at one speed, a high-octane sprint across every finish line, which left his opponents in awe. Winning was threaded through Noah’s DNA, as elemental to his existence as breathing. Today, he’d earn another gem for his crown, the first firefighter lieutenant to chair the town’s redevelopment committee. His strategy moved him one step closer to his ultimate goal—the only fire captain in the state’s history to hold the position by age thirty-one. He’d worked toward the position since his volunteer fire service days as a fifteen-year-old cadet.

“Mornin’, fellas!” He waved to Stroker, Jimmy, and Caleb, the team of firefighters he led daily, a responsibility he shouldered with pride every day that an alarm bell called them into harm’s way.

“Purd-dy boots, Noah,” Jimmy joked, aiming the water nozzle at the rig’s tires while Stroker and Caleb buffed the red door panels to a streak-free glimmer.

“That’s ‘Chairman Noah’ to you.” He grinned, adjusting his Stetson back on his head.

Stroker looked up, raising his middle finger. “Not as long as I draw breath.”

“With your fancy new title and old flame coming home for the wedding, you’re not the least bit nervous?” Jimmy asked, stowing the hose.

Noah’s pulse did a clumsy two-step at the mention of Rachel’s impending return. He forced a grin, toothy and broad. His plan for the one who got away—dazzle her with his dynamic deeds for the town she abandoned. “Nerves are for second-round draft picks. Remember that, boys.”

Noah had known all three men since elementary school. They’d spent summers swimming in the creek, autumn on the football field, and spring chasing girls around the town pavilion. Back then, the girl next door held all his attention. For that kid, Rachel and Service had encompassed his whole world. “Living the dream,” his father had called life in this small town. Noah agreed. If life were an oyster, Service was the luminous pearl. However, like that precious natural beauty, when examined closely, visible pits came into view. No less beautiful for its imperfections, his rural community, like many across the country, struggled against a destroying trifecta—a shrinking population, job losses, and limited community services. Noah had a vision for the town he loved—as committee chair, he and the mayor would oversee Service’s long-awaited infrastructure upgrade.

Caleb, being the mature one out of the whole lot of them, muttered, “Told ya both not to say a word. Noah’s inner four-year-old sucks down attention faster than Bubba Baker downs a six-pack on Friday night.”

“Like smoke, I rise,” Noah chuckled. “And leave Baker out of your comparisons. Coach led our football team to state finals every year of high school.” The man had earned Noah’s respect by being a winner and training them to do the same. “As for Rachel… did she RSVP for sure this time?” he asked with a false casualness, absently checking his reflection in the gleaming side of the fire engine. Five years had been good to his physique and his hairline. Rachel would notice.

Caleb ribbed Jimmy with an elbow. “Bet you’d like to know.”

Noah snorted. “Just watch her melt when she sees me. She missed out.”

Stroker shook his head at Noah’s antics. “Missed… more like dodged a high-powered hydrant with wavy hair and an ego.”

“Can’t fault a flame for burning bright,” Noah called, shaking off the playful jab and taking the stairs to the administrative office two at a time.

It was Rachel’s loss, but he’d been the one to drift after their breakup. If Noah traded a penny for his thoughts on the matter, he’d find himself begging for a payday loan, because he never could pinpoint how he’d gone wrong with her. He knew the where—it had to be the worst senior prom night ever for a Calvary brother. But the why remained evasive. They’d danced under twinkling lights, her head on his shoulder. Halfway through the night, he was the prom king who’d lost his queen. Rachel returned his class ring the next day. The following month she’d left for college without so much as a goodbye text.

No matter. Given their years apart, he couldn’t be sure he wanted anything from Rachel. Maybe, a chance to prove she’d missed out by leaving. He was respected, successful, and on the verge of making real change in their hometown.

He pushed through the closed door and pulled up short. The blast of air-conditioning wasn’t the only thing that made his arm hair stand on end.

Cheyenne sashayed from behind the information systems console, bouncy red ringlets framing an Instagram model face. Her heels click-clacking against the aged tile, her smile as wide as the net she cast trying to snag his ring finger, which was a big no-can-do in Noah’s dating playbook.

“I waited all night for you to dance with me at the Black Bear, Noah.”

“Now, don’t hold it against me, darling. I tried to fend off the ladies last night. But it takes two to two-step, and I’m a gentleman.”

When she wrapped her toned arms around his neck, Noah stiffened against the weight of the woman’s lithe build. Public scrutiny of his private life could lead to career fumbles. A relationship with her—too risky. They’d hooked up a few times before she took the job at the station. Too late, Noah realized his mistake with the pretty redhead. Lifting her arms aloft, he lowered Cheyenne’s limbs just right, one finger on the underside of wrist, a gentle brush of his thumb against her alabaster skin.

“Cheyenne, this here is the job. You can’t be huggin’ me. I have to set the example for the guys to follow.”

“What?” she cooed. “You’re not the boss. And… I was hoping we could get together later tonight. You can personally thank me for voting for you to serve on the town council.”

He hadn’t considered her role on the town council would ever impact him. Hindsight burned him with the poor headwork concerning Cheyenne.

“Now, don’t go mixing business and the boardroom,” he crooned. “That could ruin both our reputations.”

She gave him a pout. “I wouldn’t but… It’s been a while since one of our deep conversations.”

Oh boy, she’d learned his metaphor for the horizontal hoedown throw-down. Waking up to a beautiful lady in his bed—nothing compared to it. But he’d choose rushing into fires over running into feelings, every time. Smoke and flames did less damage.

“Now, you know how much I enjoy our long talks,” he whispered. Because he’d learned between senior year and graduating from the fire academy, if he conversed enough and listened twice as long, he could talk a pretty girl right out of her Daisy Duke shorts. And he’d done that one too many times with Cheyenne. But now she had her sights set on more than he planned to offer any woman. Women who chose to buzz around him knew upfront that he’d provide one helluva mating flight, but in the end, she’d be returning to the hive alone.

“Then when are you going to invite me over to your place? Just the two of us.”

Cheyenne had prepared. He needed to change tactics. Catching him off guard had been a brilliant play. “Now, you know my us mantra.”

“Talking about us leads to a big fuss. I know. I know,” she sighed in disappointment.

That wouldn’t do. Noah had reached expert status in the dating game by keeping his female companions content—full-time friends were better than part-time lovers. He tilted his head back, giving the air a deep whiff. “I smell something good… besides you.”

Cheyenne giggled. “I packed up a dinner picnic. Thick-cut ham. Homemade bread. Potato salad. Ice-cold beer.”

“You know what I like.” Another mistake he’d made. Noah always had an exit strategy when it came to women—keep the game fun, stick the touchdown, always go for the extra point, and make the walk off the field memorable. He was the one who always got away.

“Likely story. We could celebrate your new appointment tonight. I could drive up to your cabin after work. Now that it’s complete, I want to be the first to see it. We can eat all your favorites on that back deck I’ve been hearing so much about.” She blushed, her cheeks warming to a soft rosy glow.

“It’s not official yet. And how could ol’ Noah say yes to you when you know I’ve turned down other offers?” He didn’t lead women on. Other than his mama and Eli’s wife, Amarie, no woman had seen the inside of his home. A move like that would be too close for his comfort.

Cheyenne’s only response was a full pout, reminding him of all the wonderful things she would do after a good conversation. Two things Noah Calvary understood on instinct: fires and females. Noah admired the power of both and lived for the challenge, the risk, and the thrill. One paid his bills, and the other—well, when he stalked onto the dating field, women gushed over him faster than a hydrant under pressure. He loved to soothe and subdue wild things—a unique ability he applied to lovely creatures like Cheyenne, whom he enjoyed entertaining till their Mr. Right came along. A man like him, who found a beautiful quality in every woman, needed a strategy to avoid hurt feelings or, worse, papas with double-barreled shotguns. Noah readied his smile, a counteroffensive to block Cheyenne’s amateur scrimmage.

“But we could—”

“Calvary, stop whatever you’re doing.” That alpha bark was Fire Chief Harvey Novak. The man’s heroics in the face of reckless yahoos torching the forest in drunken revelry and negligent campers with unattended fires bordered on legendary. Noah planned to exceed his accomplishments by the time he reached retirement age. His portrait, like his PawPaw’s, would have a permanent brass nameplate regaling his years of service.

“Duty calls,” Noah crooned, lowering his voice to a wolfish rumble the ladies responded to on a primal level. On cue, Cheyenne leaned closer, pressing her slender curves against his hip.

“But… what about hosing me down again?” she whispered, trailing off into a coquettish giggle.

Yeah, that question reminded him why he kept his dating casual and on rotation. “You know my rule. Fighting fires before dousing flames, even for a smoking hot redhead.” When it came to the job, nothing came before putting out fires.

Behind Cheyenne’s desk, Noah heard the hinges squeak before the door handle made an angry thunk against the wall.

“Calvary. Now.”

“Sir. Yes, sir. Just saying good morning to the lady.”

“Noah,” Jimmy yelled above Beyoncé’s melodic “Jolene” flowing through a Bluetooth speaker. “We’re all expecting a state-of-the-art training facility for shouldering your big head while short-staffed.” With the budget constraints, Noah had mandated the team cross-train to cover a broader range of tasks around the station.

“Yep.” He trotted past the file cabinets. “I know. Equipment upgrades. A second engine. Public safety offices.”

Jimmy grinned up at him. “That’s right. So go in there and work your Noah Calvary magic.”

“You know I will,” he tossed over his shoulder before taking the steps up to the captain’s domain. Noah’s heart swelled with pride and anticipation as he surveyed the office that, in a few weeks, would be his to command. He had come a long way since Service County High.

“Mornin’, sir.”

“Noah, take a seat.” Harvey Novak’s voice matched his stature, big and full-bodied. He’d been a star quarterback, like Noah. Attended Bluefield College close to the West Virginia–Maryland border, like Noah. After hiring on at the fire station, he’d married his high school sweetie, Marilyn, and built a sprawling ranch home on a half dozen acres right there in Service… unlike Noah.

“I prefer to stand,” Noah said, surveying the wall-mounted photo ops, thinking about how he would change the drab little office into his new throne one day.

The captain pointed a beefy finger at one of the two leatherette chairs in front of his battered metal desk. “That wasn’t a request.”

Noah didn’t take offense. His father has taught him better than to try to upstage a man in his own home. Until Harvey retired, Noah had to abide by the rules to secure the ultimate prize: his name, gold-stenciled, on the door. Then he’d control the playbook and players—firefighters, paramedics, fire prevention staff, and administrative support—all his to command.

“Look… ah, I got news.”

“And?” Noah said, relaxing against the chair frame, the thin aluminum groaning under his sinewy build.

“The county sent word this morning. My retirement and your redevelopment chair appointment have been approved.”

“That’s great, sir.”

“Yep, when I retire, don’t expect me to be hiring you on for any more room additions or roof repairs. The missus been busy dusting off the thirty-four-year honey-do list.”

“I appreciate the extra money, Captain. But better you than me,” Noah laughed at the captain’s soured expression. In his off time, he worked in building construction, using the bonus dollars to bankroll the construction of his cabin.

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose as if Noah had missed the final punchline. “One day, you’ll understand that a woman wanting you around, looking to you to handle things she can do on her own, is the best kind of busy bee.”

Once upon a foolish time, Noah thought he’d have something similar with Rachel. But she’d rendered his heart a blackened burn pit filled with smoldering ash. Maybe she’d show up this year, but he had his five years of doubts that she’d draft another well-articulated excuse to stay away. He wouldn’t dwell on his role in her swift departure from Service and prolonged absence.

Noah crossed his arms over his chest, fully confident that the only role Harvey held that he wanted to walk into involved a paycheck. “My bees know I’m only interested in a bit of honey.”

“One day, you’ll learn the best honey will have a man fighting to own the hive,” he groused, looking over Noah’s head to the door separating the office and the administrative space. Noah smelled the lingering effects of Cheyenne’s fruity perfume on his uniform shirt.

“Chief, you know the Cheyenne thing… I’m not doing anything to encourage her.” At least not anything else, Noah chided himself. But he guessed his boss knew what Noah’s conversations had led to where the lady was concerned.

“Noah, about the chair position request, there’s a—ah, development,” the captain said, twirling a ballpoint pen between his fingers before tossing it onto the coffee-stained desk calendar.

Eager to start his new gig, Noah shifted, pulling his phone from his rear pocket in a flourish. “What time’s the grand announcement? If I text now, the mayor and my family can be here in one shake of a lamb’s tail ’cause two is for losers,” he joked.

“Whoa, cowboy.” The captain ran a hand over his graying mustache. “Afraid it’s more complicated.”

“Why?” Noah stiffened. “What’s up, Captain?” Harvey Novak wasn’t a nervous man, but the way his gaze dipped to avoid Noah’s direct attention… What could’ve happened overnight? Noah was the best candidate at the station. No wife and kids. He pulled extra shifts. Studied for the fire safety exam and aced every question. He even rode on the holiday parade float, tossing Tootsie Rolls to kindergartners.

“First, let me say, it’s not a question of your capability to do good work. But it seems there’s some grumblings about a conflict of interest. There are enough townsfolk concerned with the mayor delaying the clinic vote already. Now there’s talk of him forming a political coalition to cut the clinic project out of the proposed grant money allocations.”

“It’s not Pete’s fault. There are plenty of documents that go along with environmental surveys and such. The process takes time.”

The chief sighed. “Especially when he keeps asking poor Bethany for duplicates of the triplicates she’s given him. He has plans for waterfront development for himself—that much is obvious. And… with him requesting you by name, there’s talk that you’re his political ace in the hole. This is a heads-up of protests against you leading the committee.”

“Protesting against me? This is Service, sir. We don’t protest. We picnic.”

Harvey inhaled. Noah swore in one breath, the man had sucked the oxygen out of the room. Blood roared in his ears. His throat constricted around a cactus bush, tightening his chest.

“Noah, everybody knows the mayor is your best friend. You’re a smart man. Your friendship with Pete Judelson draws a critical eye from the higher-ups. He’s been seen talking with the resort developers from Whynot, asking for a mayoral mansion, while our police chief operates out of his auto garage. People take issue with the two of you working together.”

“That’s nothing but rumors,” Noah shot back at the implication of foul play by his lifelong friend. Petey had supported Noah on and off the field. Few appreciated Petey’s thirst for success. Noah did. Heck, he’d worked on Pete’s campaign, helping to rally enough votes to earn him the mayoral seat. Long live the tag team. “I’d point out that there is a designated space for official police matters.” Noah held his voice steadier than his emotions. As a lifelong resident of Service, he resented the very idea that he had anything but the town’s best interests in mind.

“Kinda hard to be tough on crime when a bunch of four-year-olds are singing ‘Baby Shark’ for story time on the other side of the wall.”

Kanaan, Service’s only paid law enforcement officer, was Noah’s first cousin. He had a two-room office, half of which was a holding cell between the library and the post office, down in the town mall.

“Mayor Judelson has a relationship with skirting this agenda over what’s best for the town. The battalion chief wants to make clear to you”—Harvey met his eyes—“if there’s the appearance of any impropriety, at any point in the process, you could get your walking papers.”

“Fired?” Noah shot to his feet; his muscles coiled too late for the strike. “I’ve poured my sweat into this firehouse since I was sixteen years old. I’m practically an institutional pillar.”

The captain stared at him, slack-jawed, unimpressed with Noah’s declaration. “You’re a… pillar. Noted,” he continued, but a hint of amusement entered his tone. “As I was saying, the pillars-that-be won’t tolerate a scandal that links back to this department. If you accept the position, make sure you focus on why you’re there. Advocate for the station and keep your nose clean. It will require strict adherence to the rules as defined by the grant and propriety.”

A knot formed in Noah’s gut. Rules and playbooks, he understood. But propriety wasn’t his leadership strength. He paced the length of the room. With his long legs, six steps later, he retraced his path. Understandably, the captain, knowing Noah’s behavior when stressed, kept quiet. A man respected a man’s time to think.

“What a kick to the gut,” Noah muttered. “There ain’t a Calvary man alive that’s been let go from a job. I ain’t aiming to be the first.” If his PawPaw were here, he’d roll through the engine bay with his green machine trailing behind him and talk some sense into leadership. Noah had built his whole life around earning that badge on Chief Novak’s chest. Now his ticket to the next level came with a threat warning.

“You and your brothers are good workers, but this position involves county politics. Better to know what you’re getting into so you can walk away. So, I’m asking”—Harvey raised both elbows, resting them on what was supposed to be Noah’s desk—“do you want to take this risk?”

“Yeah,” Noah immediately replied. He had a reputation to uphold. Besides, he never ran from a battle worth fighting. His guys needed that training center. The people of Service deserved a well-prepared emergency response system.

Harvey raised one bushy brow, the glint of silver hair a testament to the years he’d given to this community. Noah wanted the same thing: to give back to the folks who’d followed him his whole life, cheering him on.

“There’s no shame in taking a step back to reevaluate the situation, son.”

“Right,” Noah drawled. Shame, losing, walking into the Black Bear for a beer with his tail tucked between his legs. Not happening. Ever. “If you’re asking me to withdraw my name, it ain’t happening. I can win the people over. Get a new engine for the firehouse. Upgrades for the building. This town loves me.”

“This isn’t a high school football game.”

Stopping in his tracks, Noah looked down at the man who’d managed to secure the job and keep it for thirty-plus years. What would his PawPaw have done?

“What more is there that I can do?” He wasn’t being coy. It was a serious question that Noah couldn’t answer. Noah would never set out to hurt anybody, including the town he loved.

“My suggestion, show that your commitment to this department and the town supersedes a quid pro quo between friends.”

“Wait a minute,” Noah shot back, his temper flaring. “Questionin’ is one thin’, but accusin’ a man is another. I don’t cheat. And my friend would never put me in a position for others to assume so, Captain.” His Appalachian accent boiled over along with his blood. “I saved Pete Judelson’s life when we were stupid kids. The man has been nothing but loyal since that day. I didn’t let go of him then. And I won’t now. He’s had my back when it counted. He’ll do the same for this town. Folks criticize, but the man works hard—”

“The question is for who?” The captain held up one hand, giving Noah the Heisman stop sign. “The view is different depending on where you sit. Him being your friend doesn’t change the fact that since the election he’s edging closer to self-serving. You can’t save the man from himself.”

“I get there’s been some disappointment with his public policies,” Noah replied, waving off the comment. “Pete’s not perfect. But it’s more than my friendship with him that I need to navigate. Bethany Walker has put in work to secure a portion of the grant for a medical clinic in town. She’s marrying my neighbor. Her daughter is married to my brother. Shucks, I’m running close to out of bounds on all sides.” For heaven’s sake, Noah had volunteered to haul supplies for her upcoming wedding. He had counted it a bonus that the woman was to marry Rachel’s father. It made it easy for Noah to rub his success in a cute little freckled face. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Noted,” Novak sighed, nodding his head in approval. “You’re smart, Noah. Decent. Don’t make waves with the other committee members. Keep it professional. Keep it civil. You’ll find a way to allay everybody’s fears and do what’s best for us and the town.”

The words flushed the salt from the fresh cut about the town’s reaction to his appointment and his friend but failed to solve his dilemma. Service residents had voted for generations to protect the natural beauty of their mountain town and its waterfall—unlike the nearby town of Whynot, which had surrendered to the expanding tourism market, devouring homesteads and farmlands of families who’d called the Appalachians home for generations. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Good.” Harvey nodded. “You’ve got two weeks to formulate a design and renovation plan for the council meeting that aligns with the grant guidelines.”

“Less than a month?”

“A lot less.” The other man shrugged. “This is leadership.”

The guys downstairs expected him to come through for them the way he always had. Noah won. Not sometimes. Every time. Gripping the chair back, he reclaimed his seat. “I’m not worried.” Yet somehow, the sure confidence he rode in on had dissipated like smoke vapor from the small office.

“Don’t underestimate the competition. Bethany Walker has garnered a lot of support for funding a healthcare clinic.”

Well, Noah wasn’t giving anyone a leg up, either. “Got it.”

“Remember. The position could be the tip of a potentially damaging iceberg. If this goes sideways, your job could be in jeopardy.”

Noah eased the chair back. Under his muscled frame, the metal legs scraped against the tiles. Novak winced. Noah’s mind focused on the task ahead. He stood up and shook the captain’s hand. “You don’t have to mention any of this to the fellas, sir. I’ll make it happen,” he said with a smile, ready to tackle his problem. The unimaginative accepted defeat. Noah was more determined to make his mark. No one knew this town better. He’d woo any protesters to his side, support his best friend, and protect the firefighters’ interests.

“That’s your call about how much to tell your friends.” Harvey Novak angled his head toward the exit as he reared back in his chair. The metal springs howled in protest. “One last thing.”

“Yes, sir?”

“With your expertise in building codes and regulations, the grant still requires someone equally qualified in urban planning and architectural design.”

“Makes sense to me, Captain.”

“Good. Rachel Johnson’s being floated by Mrs. Walker and her supporters.”

Noah bellowed. “What the—”

Captain Novak’s attention shifted to his desktop computer screen. “Close my door behind you, Calvary.”

Noah’s roots in this town ran deep enough to move a mountain. Rachel had left the town of Service in her rearview. Calm down, Calvary. He had the situation under control. If Rachel Johnson thought she could slide into town and upend his plans… Wrong. The only gliding at his expense would be her nose in his success. Game on.

RACHEL JOHNSON HAD never met a woman deserving of her widowed father’s love, yet somehow, he thought he had. Bethany Walker, a divorcée from Florida, followed her adult daughter Amarie 905 miles to the town of Service. Amarie fell captive to that Calvary brothers charm and married Eli, better known online as #SexyKittyVet, the viral TikTok pet vet. Once in town, Bethany flipped buckles over boots for Rachel’s dear old dad. As a result, Rachel had been summoned back to the family farm to build things and witness the nuptials. Questions needed answering, but her dad, using his daddy authority voice, ordered her to use her five-year architectural degree to design a custom wedding arch for his bride-to-be. She thought it was a joke. No such luck.

“Honestly, Rachel. If you don’t star. . .