“Your best yet. Seriously. But why don’t you want anyone to know? The guys were nearly fighting over them. Two guys arm-wrestled for the last one. I’m not even kidding.”
Shrugging, Haven finally said, “I do it because it makes me feel good and I enjoy it. I don’t need anything more from it than that.”
“Well,” Cora said, reaching up and swiping her fingers over Haven’s eyebrow, “you might want to get rid of the flour-y evidence, then.”
“Oh,” Haven said, scrubbing her hands over her face. She’d been so tired after eating her bun that she’d lain down and fallen immediately asleep. At last.
“Besides, Bunny said she’d take us to the mall to get some clothes and so I can get this stupid hair fixed.” Cora fingered at the choppy, blunt ends of her hair. When they ran away, Cora’s hair had been halfway down her back, and one of the first things she did was take a pair of scissors to it. Haven had been shocked at how violently Cora hacked at it at a truck stop along I-95, but Cora laughed off her concern. It signified the new her, she said. So far, Haven had declined the offer to lose her long locks. It was one of the few parts of herself she thought was truly pretty. “Maybe you should get yours done, too?”
Haven fingered her hair, the thought of going out in public taking her belly on a loop-the-loop. There was no way her father could know where she was—heck, she barely knew where she was—but that didn’t keep her from worrying. “Maybe. You really think that’s wise? Going out, I mean?”
Cora twisted her lips, her expression going serious. “I think it’s okay. We’re a long way from Georgia here, and Ike said no one has any way of knowing that we’re with the Ravens anyway.”
“I guess that’s right,” Haven said, wishing she shared Cora’s certainty. But Haven knew her father well enough to know he had to be livid that she’d defied him—and that she’d gotten away with some of his money to boot. No one crossed him. Or, at least, no one remained around to tell the tale if they did. “Okay. Well, I should grab a quick shower if we’re going out.”
An hour later, they were at Frederick’s mall with Bunny McKeon, an older firecracker of a lady who’d gone out of her way the past few weeks to make them feel at home at the Ravens’ compound. The mall was bigger and busier than Haven expected. The compound was so secluded that it made it feel like they were in the middle of nowhere, when in reality they were less than an hour away from the cities of Baltimore and Washington.
Haven hadn’t been out in public like this in years. Her father’s controlling possessiveness of her had started when her body began to visibly mature and worsened when he discovered she’d slept with her first and only boyfriend. Once her father had pulled her from school, he’d slowly but surely walled off her life until she could only leave the house with his permission and in the company of one of his drivers, usually Jack Carter. On the positive side, Jack was never mean to her, but the fact that he followed her everywhere revealed that his true purpose was to make sure she didn’t run.
Not ready to cut her hair, Haven declined an appointment at the salon, but she enjoyed watching her friend’s excitement as the stylist shaped Cora’s blond hair into a cute and sassy shoulder-length cut full of soft waves and long layers.
“So, I have two questions for you,” Bunny said as they waited in the chairs nearest the stylist’s station. As Dare’s great-aunt, Maverick’s mother, and Doc’s sister, Bunny had earned a ton of influence and respect from the club. She was also married to one of the Ravens—an older guy named Rodeo. And she was the person Haven had gotten to know best during their two-week stay with the Ravens.
But that didn’t mean Haven had a clue what Bunny could want to ask her. “Okay,” Haven said, equal parts curious and nervous.
“Were those your cinnamon rolls, and, if so, what do I have to do to get the recipe?” The older lady gave her a knowing smile.
Heat filled Haven’s face as she nodded. “I don’t really work off of written recipes, but I can probably write it down.”
“That would be lovely, hon, because I haven’t stopped thinking about them all day. The guys treated me like royalty thinking I made them and hoping I’d do it again soon, but now that I know it was you, I’ll make sure to give credit where it’s due.” Bunny patted her arm.
“You really don’t have to do that,” Haven said. “I mean, I’m happy to make them again. And, in fact, helping in the kitchen makes me feel like I’m earning my way a little, especially with all this.” Haven gestured at the salon and the three big shopping bags of clothes that sat at their feet.
Bunny’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you don’t mind if I don’t tell anyone or that you don’t want me to tell anyone?” As usual, she saw right through Haven. Haven just hadn’t decided yet if she really liked that about Bunny or wished the woman wasn’t quite so perceptive.