Gah. She was being a total sap. It wasn’t like she was ever meant to be a part of these people’s lives. She’d always just been passing through.
A client, Dare had called her. A client like every other.
Whatever. She threw herself into the work, glad for the distraction from how fast the days seemed to be flying by. And from the fact that she hadn’t seen Dare more than in passing in almost three days.
By the time dinner rolled around, Haven was achy from standing on her feet all day, but she’d also had a ton of fun hanging in the kitchen with Bunny and Cora, a few Raven wives who stopped by to help or drop off dishes and platters, and the occasional Raven who dared to try to sneak a bite and risked the smack of Bunny’s wooden spoon. That lady was tough. And awesome. The kind of woman Haven wanted to be. Which was why Haven loved her.
Haven loved . . . so much about the Ravens.
The three of them took their dinners in the kitchen to keep an eye on the variety of dishes they had going—the trays of lasagna Bunny was baking, the cinnamon roll dough Haven was preparing, the meatballs simmering in the giant Crock-Pot. Cora had prepared huge vegetable and fruit platters, and followed Haven’s quickly dashed-off recipes for several types of cookie dough, also waiting to be baked. The big kitchen was like an assembly line, and they still had a lot to do.
A bunch of guys brought dirty dishes into the kitchen, signaling that dinner out in the mess hall had come to an end. Done with her own meal, Haven went out into the mess hall to help clean up. Dare sat at the head of one of the tables, head thrown back in laughter, Maverick, Phoenix, and Jagger next to him laughing just as hard.
God, Dare was freaking hot.
Really fucking hot. Say it. Tell me how hot it is.
The memory of his words licked over her skin and made her suck in a breath.
And then Dare’s gaze landed on Haven, hot and direct, and she felt it like he’d reached across the room and touched her. And, God, how she wished he had. Because, yeah. With his darkly handsome face, that mess of brown hair she knew was so soft, and that harsh mouth that gave her so much pleasure, Dare Kenyon was really fucking hot. Even if his words had crushed her heart.
Ducking her head, Haven grabbed as much as she could off the table and retreated into the kitchen. The thing was, unlike weeks ago when being in his presence scared her, now she craved it, even knowing nothing would come of it—that he wouldn’t let anything come of it. Not anymore.
She went back out for another load, and Cora followed, just in time to hear Phoenix shout into his cell phone, “Who the fuck is this?” He wasn’t playing.
The room went deadly quiet, the words freezing the maybe ten remaining Ravens in place as every eye focused on the head of the table.
Phoenix mouthed something to Dare, then said into the phone, “What are you talking—”
Dare’s expression was rank anger and outrage, and it knotted Haven’s stomach for reasons she didn’t understand. “Give me the phone,” Dare bit out. He pressed a button and held the phone out in his hand. “This is Dare Kenyon, Raven Riders’ president. Who the fuck is this?”
“Ah, Dare,” came a man’s voice through the speaker. “This is Dominic Hauer. We met on Monday. Turns out we have more business, just like I thought we would.” The menace in the man’s voice, the grim expressions on the Ravens’ faces—all of it had Haven’s heart racing and dread prickling across her skin.
“Our business is done,” Dare said, ice in his tone. She’d never heard his voice sound so . . . deadly.
“Turns out, not so much. You see, we now find ourselves in possession of something I think you’re going to be interested in.”
Dare made eye contact with Phoenix, who shrugged and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll bite. What would that be?” Next to him, Maverick, Caine, and Jagger sat forward, jaws clenched, muscles tense.
“Information that the Churchmen held two women in their possession worth fifty grand in cold hard reward to some redneck down in Georgia. Well, a hundred thou now. And we’ve recently made acquaintance with this fine gentleman.”
Haven slapped her hand over her mouth to smother her gasp as Dare’s gaze collided with hers. Oh, God. Ohgodohgod. Her father . . . her father was nearby. And willing to pay . . . a hundred thousand dollars to get her back?
“And I care about this why?” Dare asked, the nonchalance and disinterest so convincing in his voice.
“Because you have them.”
The words hung there, and Haven almost went wobbly on her feet. Except hands caught her, supported her. Cora on one side and Bunny on the other. When the older lady had come out from the kitchen, Haven didn’t know.
“Hang in there,” Bunny whispered into her ear.