by Laura Kaye
Cora popped back in wearing jeans and a tee not a minute later. “Okay, I’m ready. Are you?”
“SHE’LL BE RIGHT down,” Dare said, walking back into the kitchen. Bunny stood at the counter, pouring a cup of coffee, while her friend Joan set up a makeshift shop on the kitchen table. Two towels lay over the back of a chair pulled out into the middle of the floor.
“Don’t worry, Dare. Joan’s great. So good she’s usually booked weeks ahead of time. She’ll take care of Haven,” Bunny said.
Dare nodded, though he didn’t care if Joan was the best hair stylist who ever lived. None of that would make a difference to Haven if she really didn’t want this done. Despite how much sense Phoenix’s words made back in Church, for right that moment, Dare didn’t feel that much different from her father. Or, at least, he feared that she’d feel that way. And he wouldn’t blame her.
A few minutes later, Haven and Cora came in. Haven’s face was scrubbed clean and her hair was a little messy from sleep, but she was showing the most skin he’d ever seen in a skimpy pink tank top—well, except for when he’d found her in bed wearing nothing but a men’s white T-shirt. Without even trying, she’d looked sexy as fuck, making him wish he’d been there for a totally different reason.
“Ah, Haven, this is my friend Joan.” Bunny made introductions and the women exchanged greetings, Haven shaking the older lady’s hand.
“Have a seat, hon,” Joan said, tucking the side of what Dare supposed was a stylish cut behind her ear. “And tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, well.” Haven slid into the chair, looking small and even a bit fragile. She had a way of doing that, suddenly shrinking into herself as if to make a smaller target, or to blend into the background. “Mostly, just different,” she said. And that was the moment Dare knew she wanted no part of this. Because what woman didn’t know exactly what she wanted done to her hair?
“Stop,” Dare said. “You don’t have to do this.”
Frowning, Haven peered up at him. “Yes, I do.” She turned to Joan. “Shorter. Maybe up to here,” she said, holding her hand flat against the top of her biceps to mark an invisible line.
Joan unwound the band holding the length of Haven’s hair in a braid. “Do you want any color?”
“Uh.” She glanced to Cora. “Maybe . . . maybe I do. But I don’t know much about it.”
Haven was doing exactly what he told her to do, and he hated it. He shoved off the counter and stalked out of the kitchen, through the clubhouse, and into the rec room. A few guys playing pool called out a greeting, but Dare only had eyes for the bar, where he grabbed a glass and poured himself some whiskey. He tossed it back, savoring the burn, and then poured some more.
Fuck, what was he doing? If she was going to suffer through having the change made, then he sure as shit could man up and sit with her while it happened. Whiskey in hand, he returned to the kitchen.
“I don’t think we should go too dark because of how fair you are,” Joan was saying. “But a light brown would give you a change without washing you out. We could even do some low lights to give it more depth. And brown would be so pretty with those gorgeous blue eyes.”
Gorgeous blue eyes which held so much uncertainty. But Haven pushed through whatever doubts she had, because she agreed to Joan’s suggestions and watched as the woman set about mixing solutions in small bowls with brushes. Finally, Joan wrapped a towel around Haven’s shoulders and clipped it together in front of her throat.
“All ready, hon?” she asked Haven with a smile.
Haven’s gaze went to Cora again, and the other woman gave her a small nod. Licking her lips, Haven glanced to him. “Wait. Can I have a drink of that?”
“The whiskey?” Dare asked, lifting the glass.
She nodded and accepted the tumbler into her hand. Tipping the crystal to her lips, she took a long enough drink that she almost emptied the glass. “Okay,” she said, passing it back to Dare. “Let’s do this.”
Fucking hell. He emptied the glass and tried not to think about the fact that it’d just been between her lips.
“You’re cutting off so much length, you should consider donating the hair to one of the organizations that uses it to make wigs for cancer patients. I could take care of that for you if you like,” Joan said, sectioning the long lengths into small ponytails and wrapping them in rubber bands.
“People do that?” Haven asked, her eyes going wide. “Because I would love to do that.”
“Oh, yeah,” Joan said. “You’re a great candidate for that with all this beautiful hair.”
Dare feared that the words might make Haven hesitate, but instead, she smiled genuinely for the first time since she’d come downstairs, like she wasn’t just resigned about getting her hair cut, but interested in doing it. “I love that idea so much,” she said.
Well, what do you know? When the cut was about protecting herself, she seemed to regret doing it, but now that the cut could help someone else, Haven was suddenly more enthusiastic. As if he didn’t already admire enough about her. Because he really did.
One by one, Joan chopped each of the ponytails off, showing Haven as each one came free.
“No going back now,” Haven said, smiling at Cora.
“It’s gonna be great,” Cora said. “Just you wait.”
For the next hour, Haven sat and chatted with the other women while Joan painted a solution onto Haven’s hair and wrapped chunks of it in foil.
“Maybe I’ll just go with this look,” Haven said when her whole head was covered in aluminum. “What do you all think?” The women all laughed and joked.
Bunny kept giving Dare odd looks, probably wondering why he was hanging around for what was clearly a female bonding ritual, but he didn’t want to leave Haven, even though he wasn’t really contributing a damn thing or helping in any substantive way. He stood against the counter, arms crossed, and every once in a while he’d respond to a text message or check his e-mail to see if the photo of her father had come in yet.
As the foil came off, Dare got the first glimpse of her new dark hair. He’d found the blond striking from the very first time they met, but Jesus if she wasn’t gorgeous with brown hair, too, and not lacking a single iota of the brightness and lightness that he associated with her.
Joan spent more time cutting, and then finally blow-drying, until she was asking Haven, “Well, what do you think?” She handed her a mirror.
A total fucking knockout. That’s what Dare thought. Maybe a little edgier and definitely a lot sexier, but still very much the Haven he— Well, the Haven he’d come to know.
“It feels so much lighter,” Haven said, turning her head back and forth to make it move. She played with the ends as she looked in the mirror. “And so much wavier now.”
“You were long overdue, my dear. It’s so much healthier now,” Joan said, wiping her hands on a towel.
Haven nodded as she continued to look at herself, an awed expression on her face.
“It’s so much shinier now, too,” Cora said. “God, you look freaking fantastic, Haven.”
“I like it,” she said, a big smile lighting up her face. “I like it a lot.” She shot to her feet and gave Joan a hug. “Thank you so much.”
“Oh,” Joan said, caught off guard. The older woman laughed and patted Haven’s back. “You are more than welcome. It’s not every day that I get to give a complete makeover like this. I enjoyed myself.”
“How come you never make me look that good?” Bunny asked, winking at Haven as she brought over a broom.
“Oh, Bunny, you and me both,” Joan said as the women laughed.
The happiness on Haven’s face was a sucker-punch to the gut—Dare was relieved and glad to see it, but also completely blindsided by how damn important it had become to him to see Haven happy. When the hell had that happened? And what did it even mean?
“What do you think, Dare? Do I look different enough?” Haven asked, smiling at him.
“You look g
ood,” he said, unable to hold back the compliment and play it cool. “Really good.”
She grinned like he’d just given her the best present ever. “Well, thank you,” she said. “If it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve known how much I’d like this.”
She was . . . thanking him? Beyond floored, Dare shifted his feet and nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Just then, his cell phone rang. “Better get this,” he said, and then he ducked out of the room—as much to keep his mouth from running away from him as to find out what news might be coming down the line.
HAVEN WASN’T THE least surprised she hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep. Yesterday had been quite possibly the most eventful day of her life—between the motorcycle ride with Dare, what had happened between them at the beach, the club’s decision on relocating them, and having her hair changed. Her brain was like a merry-go-round with no Off switch.
And she was just as happy to be up, because it gave her time she hadn’t taken in a few days to do some baking—cinnamon buns and peanut butter cookies, because of how popular both had been the last time she’d made them.
Waiting for the dough for the buns to rise, Haven lined up balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet and flattened them with presses of a fork. Within minutes of putting the cookies in the oven, the kitchen smelled incredible—like rich peanut butter and sweet cinnamon. Mindlessly filling the minutes until the cookies would be done, she cleaned up and wondered how many more things she could make here before they had to leave. Would her new place have a nice kitchen she could bake in?
A shiver of dread ran over her. Wherever they moved, how were they supposed to live? Cora had waitressing experience, but Haven had no skills at all. She’d never held a job in her life and didn’t even have a high school diploma. The unknowns that lay before her were so numerous she could barely think on them all.
When she’d left Georgia, there’d been a lot of unknowns then, too, of course. But she’d believed to the depths of her soul that whatever happened, wherever she went, it would all be better than where she’d been—trapped in hell with her father.
Now that she’d lived with the Ravens for nearly a month, she wasn’t sure she could believe the same. It was good here. How did she know whatever came next would be, too? Because now that she’d found safety and good people and a little sliver of happiness, the prospect of giving it up hurt in a way that her father’s mean comments and treatment never had. Because she hadn’t let that get under her skin. She’d refused.
But this place . . . oh, and Dare—he was so far under her skin she wasn’t sure how she’d ever get him out. Or if she’d ever find another man who made her feel all the things he did.
The timer on the oven went off, pulling Haven from her thoughts. She scooped the cookies onto a flat expanse of aluminum foil to cool, having made six dozen total. When the ovens reached the correct temperature, she put the buns in to bake next.
Waiting again, sleepiness finally hit her, so Haven busied herself with cleaning up to keep awake. A little before five in the morning, the buns were done and iced, giving Haven just enough time to grab a few hours’ sleep before breakfast—which she planned to attend.
If they only had a few more days here before they had to go, Haven didn’t want to spend another second of it hiding out in her room. Because who knew if she’d ever feel as safe again as she did with the Ravens.
And with Dare.
CHAPTER 16
Haven came down to breakfast late to find at least twenty people already digging in. She’d been so nervous to walk into a big group of mostly strangers that she’d delayed in her room forever, fussing over her clothes and her new hair, which she loved even more in the light of day. But she was done with letting her fear keep her from doing things, trying things, living life to the fullest.
All of which led her to walk into a room of mostly seated people, and not a few heads turned her way—and did double takes.
“Whoa, Haven. Is that you?” Phoenix asked from where he sat across from Cora, who waved her over, wearing a big smile.
“I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you,” Haven said as she rounded the table and scooted between the chairs until she got to her own. Laughter filled the room, which eased some of her anxiousness until she noticed Dare staring at her from where he sat at the head of her table, dark eyes hot and intense.
“Please tell him then,” one of the Ravens she didn’t know said to more laughter. Phoenix flashed his middle finger at the guy.
By the time she sat, her face was on fire, but she felt good for having come.
“You came,” Cora said in a low, excited voice. “I’m so glad.”
“I’m here,” Haven said, her gaze flicking to Dare, who was still looking at her. “And I’m kinda starving.”
“Well, we have the perfect cure for that,” the big guy next to her said. He passed her a platter filled with scrambled eggs and bacon. “I’m Joker, by the way.”
The guy who’d tried to talk to her at the party that first night. She should’ve recognized those friendly green eyes and the dark beard. “Hi Joker, I’m Haven.” As she scooped some food onto her plate, other words threatened, and then she decided to throw caution to the wind and just say them. “I’m sorry I freaked out at the party when you tried to introduce yourself. I’m kinda ridiculously shy, and big groups like this . . .” She shrugged. “. . . well, they’re usually too overwhelming for me.”
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” he said with a wink. “We have a knack for being intimidating.”
“You do,” she said with a little laugh.
“Here, you gotta have one of these, too,” he said, passing her the plate with her cinnamon buns.
“I’d love to,” she said, biting down on her lip to try not to smile. She took one and then passed the plate to Phoenix, who was waggling his fingers for it.
Cora elbowed Haven in the ribs, and Haven threw her a look.
“Too bad you’re already taken, Bunny,” Phoenix said. “Because I’d marry you in a heartbeat for making these buns.” Raucous exclamations and agreements circled the room.
“You’d break those vows in five minutes,” Bunny’s husband, Rodeo, said with a wicked grin.
“Yeah, probably,” Phoenix said, not seeming to mind the ribbing at all. “But I’d be deep in love for all five of them.”
Shaking her head, Bunny laughed. “Well, I’m just glad you’re all enjoying them. Now stop all the yammering and eat.”
It didn’t take long for all the platters and plates to be licked clean, and then Cora and Haven helped Bunny and a few of the guys clear the table.
When they came back out for another haul of dirties, Dare waved Haven and Cora over. “Can I talk to you two for a minute?”
“Uh, sure,” Haven said, following him into the lounge with Cora.
“A contact sent us some photos, and I want to confirm identities with you two before sending them out to our people.” He punched a code into his cell phone.
“Okay,” Haven said, standing next to him. God, he smelled good. Like Ivory soap and leather and something all Dare.
He tilted the phone toward them. “Is this your father?”
“Yes.” Haven stared at a photo taken of him when he was out in public somewhere. He wore the same angry-at-the-world expression he always did, and just seeing it rushed a shiver that was part dread and part relief that she’d escaped him over her skin. “Did you have someone take these?”
Dare nodded, and thumbed to the next photograph. “All I know of some of these men is that they’re in his organization. Any names you can add would be helpful.” He showed them three pictures, and Haven was able to identify them all as people who worked closely for or with her father. “How about this one?”
Cora gasped. “That’s my father, Hank Campbell.”
Haven nodded, though something in Cora’s tone made Haven study her friend’s face. Cora gave her a small smile when she noticed, but Haven felt like she
’d just watched her friend don a mask.
“Okay,” Dare said. “Are we missing images of anyone you think we should know about?”
Haven and Cora exchanged glances. “The men you showed us are my father’s right-hand men, so I don’t think so. Do you, Cora?”
She shook her head. “Those are the most obvious guys.”
“Good,” Dare said. “Thanks. I’m gonna send these out to the club and a broader circle of contacts we have, just to get some other eyes on this.”
“Okay,” Haven said, the precautions Dare was taking making her nervous about just how much her father might know about her whereabouts.
Dare frowned and, for a moment, looked like he was going to say something more. Then he shook his head and backed away. It was almost like he’d had a whole little conversation—with himself. “Catch ya later, then,” he said.
Haven nodded, and, when Dare was gone, she turned to Cora.
“He is so into you,” Cora said, eyebrow arched.
“You got that from that weirdness just now?” Haven rolled her eyes, even though everything inside her wished it was true.
“No,” Cora said. “I got that from watching him watch you looking at his cell phone. His eyes were on you the whole time.”
Butterflies whipped through Haven’s belly. “Well, who knows what that means.”
“Only one way to find out,” Cora said, pointing toward the hallway down which Dare just disappeared. “And he just went that way.”
Haven shook her head. “I’m not following him. Come on, we have to help Bunny finish cleaning up.”
“If you say so,” Cora said, giving her an amused, challenging look.
“I do.” They made their way back into the mess hall, which was all cleaned up, but they were in plenty of time to help with the dishes.
