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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 good,” 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?

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