“You’ll never hear me deny that,” Marz said, grinning. No matter how much of a hard-ass Beckett had ever been, Dare had never seen Marz lose his cool with the guy. From what Dare understood, Beckett had saved Marz’s life in Afghanistan, though Dare had never heard the full story.
Just then, Haven came out of the kitchen, a serving dish in her hands. “Thought we might need more lasagna out here.” She leaned between Phoenix and Maverick to put it on the table, and Mav reached out to help her set it down.
“You are too good to us,” Maverick said, smiling up at her.
The shy smile she gave him in return was full of satisfaction. “No such thing.”
The words fucking slayed Dare. Just laid him out right there on the table. No such thing as treating his brothers too good.
“Haven?” Shane asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Hi, Shane,” she said, her cheeks going pink.
He rose and stepped out from his chair. “Your hair’s different,” he said, his Southern accent coming through just a bit.
Haven fingered at the brown waves and smiled. “Yeah. It’s good to see you.”
It looked like Shane was holding himself back from hugging her, and though Dare didn’t love the idea of the guy touching Haven—of any guy touching her—Shane was the one who’d found the women imprisoned in the basement of the Church Gang’s storage facility, so he had a special interest in them that Dare couldn’t fault. “You doing okay?”
“Thanks to you—well, all of you,” she said, her gaze scanning over Dare’s and Nick’s men both, “I am. Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”
“No, I’m okay,” Shane said. “Sara’s going to be really glad to know you’re doing good.”
“Tell her I said hello. And thank her for how kind she was to us that day.”
“You bet I will,” he said, sitting again.
Hands on the backs of Phoenix’s and Mav’s chairs, she asked, “Anyone need anything?”
“No. Stop taking care of us,” Phoenix said around a full mouth of lasagna. “You should come sit.”
“I ate already,” she said. “And I like taking care of you guys.”
More than one man looked up at her with affection on his face. Like she was part of the family. Their family. His family.
That’s when it really hit Dare—how comfortable she seemed with them. Or, at least, how much more comfortable. It was like he’d watched a butterfly come to life these past weeks—from cocooned chrysalis to learning to spread her wings to full-colored glory. And it fucking stole his breath.
She peered at him, a tentative smile playing around her lips. “You good?”
When I’m with you, hell yes. Not that he voiced that particular thought, especially as his mind spun on what that tentativeness was all about. “Yeah. Thanks.”
With a nod, she disappeared into the kitchen.
“So, can you catch us up on the plan?” Nick asked, pulling Dare out of his head. His e-mail from the night before had detailed the nature of the threat, because Nick’s people needed to know what these Iron Cross fuckers were all about, but Dare hadn’t laid out the plan, since they’d still been nailing down all the pieces.
Nodding, Dare passed his plate down for some lasagna. “In terms of security, we’ve got lookouts stationed around the property at all the access points and along the major ways in and out of Frederick. Thanks to Marz,” he said, giving the man a nod, “we have vehicle descriptions on all Randall’s men’s rides. We have the sheriff’s office on board with this, too.”
“You all work well with them?” Beckett asked, dark blue eyes maybe a little surprised. Sitting next to him, Easy’s dark eyes were curious as he listened in on the conversation, which was when Dare noticed the guy wasn’t really touching the little bit of food he’d put on his plate.
“Uh, most of the time, yeah,” Dare said. “Long history there. We’ll pull in some of those men and tighten the net around the property and track for Friday night, and we’ll also have the help of another MC from West Virginia. How many Brothers did Walker say are coming?”
Phoenix nodded and swallowed a bite. “He’s gonna try for a dozen.”
“How many people typically attend the races?” Easy asked in a deep, quiet voice.
“Capacity is two thousand, but average is usually twelve to fifteen hundred, depending on the type of event and which drivers are appearing. We never know the full number until race time, because we sell tickets at the box office, but advance purchases usually give us a decent idea. Tomorrow night looks to be a big crowd already.” Dare wiped his mouth with a napkin and dropped it next to his empty plate.
Easy nodded. “Plus drivers, pit crews, employees, and all of us. That’s a lot of bodies to police. We might want to divide the whole track area up into sectors and assign patrol teams.”
“Good thinking,” Nick said.
“I’ll pull a schematic of the venue for that after we’re done here,” Dare said.
“Sounds like we might want some monitoring of the parking lot that night,” Marz said. “Make sure no wheels get in that we don’t want in. You have security cameras out at the track?”