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.
When they were putting away the last of the dishes they’d hand-washed and dried, Bunny turned to Haven. “You realize that when you two leave, the guys are going to wonder why they’re not getting any more amazing baked goods. All my marriage proposals are going to dry up overnight.” The older woman was wearing an amused smile and a vintage Harley Davidson T-shirt with a pair of jeans.
And that was when Haven realized that she was going to miss Bunny almost as much as Dare, maybe more, since she’d never had a mother figure in her life before. Her own mom had fled from Haven’s father when Haven was still in diapers. Guess he’d treated her badly, too. There’d been a time when Haven resented the heck out of her mother for leaving her behind, but after a while it had felt pointless to hold a grudge against someone she didn’t remember and would never again see.
But Bunny, in just a few short weeks, had offered her friendship, advice, guidance, protectiveness. Haven wasn’t going to forget her any time soon, and it made her ache.
“I didn’t think of that,” Haven said. “Though I hadn’t actually expected to leave so soon, I guess. What should I do?”
“I hadn’t expected y’all to leave so soon, either,” Bunny said, her expression sympathetic, almost sad. “But on the baked goods”—she reached behind her and grabbed the plate of peanut butter cookies—“I think you gotta start with telling Dare.”
Haven stared at the plate like it might bite her. “Really?” The thought of revealing something else she’d been keeping from him made her big breakfast sit like a rock in her stomach.
“Really,” Bunny said, exchanging a look with Cora that Haven couldn’t read.
Cora nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
Haven accepted the cookies into her hands. “He’s going to be mad at me.”
Bunny shook her head. “I doubt that, honey. You just go see. You two will both feel better after you talk.”
“Fine,” Haven said, deciding to get this over with sooner rather than later. “But when he’s mad at me, I get to say I told you so.”
“Deal,” Bunny said, giving her a wink.
Haven crossed through the clubhouse doling out cookies along the way to guys who saw what she was carrying. The more Ravens she talked to, the less intimidating she found them. They were just guys, guys who were really loyal to one another, as far as she could see. Maybe they wore the badges of their club on their backs and had lots of ink on their skin, but they also took in and helped people like her. And that counted for a lot in her book, because she knew that brand of kindness and generosity wasn’t universal. Not by a long shot.
By the time she got to Dare’s office, the pile of cookies wasn’t as high as it had been, but she still had plenty to offer up as an olive branch. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came his voice through the door. His gaze cut up when she opened it. “Haven. What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, slipping in and shutting the door behind her.
“Of course. Is everything okay?” he asked, getting up and coming to her.
“Yeah,” she said, thrusting the plate into his chest out of nervousness. “Bunny said I should bring these to you.”
He chuckled and grasped the plate. “That’s because Bunny knows these are my favorite cookies in the world.”
A wave of satisfaction rolled through Haven’s body at the thought. “Really?”
Popping one in his mouth, Dare nodded. “So damn good,” he said around a bite. When he swallowed, he added, “I told Bunny she was officially my favorite person ever for making these again.”
Haven hugged herself and nodded, and something Bunny said came back to her—that it would make both her and Dare feel better to talk. What the heck was that supposed to mean? And why was Haven thinking of it now?
Dare placed the plate on the corner of his desk and grabbed another cookie. “And you’re my second-favorite person for bringing them to me,” he said with a wink. He took a bite.
Heat filled Haven’s cheeks, and she shook her head.
“What is it?” he asked, stepping closer. He ran his knuckles over her cheek, clearly noticing her blush.
“Um,” she said, fortifying herself with a deep breath to make her admission. She looked up at him, ready to tell him.
“I didn’t think I could like your hair more than I did before,” he said, stroking his fingers through it at the side of her face. “But you look beautiful, Haven.”
The words stole her breath and kicked her heart into a sprint. Did he just call her beautiful? “I do?”
He nodded. “Could barely keep my eyes off of you at breakfast. I know you noticed.”
And she’d thought her blush couldn’t get any hotter. She shrugged. “I guess so.”
He broke a piece off his cookie and handed it to her. “Want some?”
She let him put it in her mouth, her stomach fluttering because the look in his eyes suggested those words might not be about just the cookie. Although he could be so hard to read, and she wanted him so much she was always half sure she was projecting her desire onto him.
“Good, right?” he asked. His gaze ran down her face and stopped at her lips.
“Yeah,” she said, swallowing the last of the cookie. Now tell him. Right.
“Shit, I have to . . .” His hand threaded into her hair and grasped the back of her head. And then his mouth found hers and his tongue slid in deep, stroking, twirling, penetrating. She surrendered to the kiss and pressed her body against his, loving how big and hard and strong he was against her. His erection dug into her belly, and she loved that, too, the evidence that she wasn’t the only one feeling so out of control.
By the time he pulled back from the kiss, Haven was breathing hard and a little dizzy and totally aroused.
“Had to taste you with that flavor in your mouth,” he said in a gritty voice. “Just as good as I thought it’d be.”
His words did nothing to cool her off, but still she managed, “Dare, I have a confession.”
His expression darkened, and he tried to step back, to put that old distance between them again.
But Haven grabbed the lapel of his club cut. “Don’t go. Please.”
He glanced down to how she was holding on to him, and it took everything Haven had not to shy away from the intensity of his gaze. “What’s your confession?”
“I made the cookies,” she rushed out. “And the cinnamon buns.”
The darkness bled out of his eyes and off his face, only to be replaced by confusion. “You made the cookies? You’re the one who’s been making all the cookies and bars and buns?”
She nodded.
“You?” His eyebrow arched as he stared at her, and then his eyes went wide with what looked like surprise. “Jesus, Haven, you’re really fucking good at baking. You know that, right?”
She shrugged. “I like to do it.”
“You should be doing it. It’s your thing.” An arm around her waist, he reached for another cookie. Ate it. Closed his eyes and hummed as he chewed it. “So fucking good. And you made it.” He shook his head.
The whole thing made Haven smile. “So you’re not mad?”
His eyelids flipped open. “Why the hell would I be mad?”
God, she loved the feeling of his arm thrown so casually around her, her body still pressed all up against his. “Because I kept something from you again.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care about that, but why did you? Just out of curiosity.”
“I bake when I can’t sleep. It calms me, and I really enjoy it. But I didn’t want any attention for it, especially when I didn’t know any of you,” she said, looking down at his chest.
Fingers gently tipped her chin back up. “I get it,” he said, and then he was quiet for a long moment. Suddenly, he frowned and his brow furrowed. “I’m glad you told me. And, well, I have something to tell you, too. A confession of my own.”
“You do? About what?” she asked, unable to imagine what he could need to reveal to her.
Sighing, he stroked his fingers through the side of her hair again, his eyes tracking the movement. “So, the other day—”
Bang, bang. The door flew open, and Phoenix and a man Haven thought was called Caine stepped in. Where Phoenix could be a playful screwball, Caine seemed quiet and severely serious to the point of being kinda scary. But she’d thought that about Dare once, too, hadn’t she? “Oh, shit. Sorry, Dare, Haven,” Phoenix said. Both men seemed upset. Or, at least, Phoenix didn’t seem like his usual smart-alecky, laid-back self. “We got something.”
Dare looked down at her, and that was the moment she realized that he hadn’t let her go when the men had let themselves into his office. His arm still wrapped around her lower back, holding her to him. “Can we finish this later?” he asked her. “I’m sorry.”
“Of course. I hope everything’s okay,” she said. She pulled away, only to have him grab her hand and tug her back again.
He kissed her long and deep and hard, and Haven thought her heart would beat out of her chest from the intensity of it, from the fact that he’d done it in front of his brothers—and that she’d liked that he’d done that. “Later.”
“Later,” she whispered, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She slipped out—or floated out, more like it—and wondered how she was going to avoid going crazy until she saw him again and heard whatever it was that he needed to confess.