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“Me, too.” For a second, she was unsure how to extricate herself, and then she finally nodded and made a move for the door. “Merry Christmas,” she managed. Out on the sidewalk, she felt like she could breathe again. What was it about the members of the Raven Riders that made them so freaking intense to talk to?

She’d only made it a few buildings down when a man’s voice called her name.

“Emma?”

She turned to find Dare leaning out the door of Dutch’s. “Yes?”

“Are you walking? Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

It took her brain a second to compute what he’d just offered her, and then a flood of warmth spilled through her chest. The same kind of warmth that Caine arranging to get her medicine had unleashed that night they’d met. Who were these guys?

“No, I drove.” She pointed down the block. “I’m just a few doors further down. But thank you for asking.”

A single nod. “Be safe.” He ducked back inside.

Emma stood there kinda stunned. And in the wake of Dare’s kindness, her desire to see Caine again was even stronger than before she’d arrived.

That made her belly fall, though, because everything was in his court. Dropping by her house. Calling. Everything.

All she could do was wait.

* * * *

Three pairs of eyes swung Caine’s way as he stepped inside Dutch’s. Dare and Jagger sat at the bar, ogling him like he had three heads. And Haven’s whole face lit up.

“What?” he asked, wary as he made for the open stool next to Jagger.

Haven grinned excitedly at him, which was fucking weird. No one reacted to him entering a room that way. “What can I get you, Caine?”

“Black coffee. Thanks.” He peered to his left, where his brothers were still all about the three heads. “What the hell is up with you two?”

“We met someone you know,” Dare said matter-of-factly.

Haven brought his coffee, and he took a long sip, then shrugged. “Okay?”

“A very cute blond someone,” Jagger said, trying to school his expression. Trying and fucking failing.

Caine gave a bored sigh. And even though he knew exactly who they were talking about—hell, he could almost feel the echo of her energy in here now—he played it cool. “That doesn’t narrow it down very fucking much, now, does it.”

Jagger smirked.

“You want something to eat?” Haven asked, eyeballing him like she knew he was playing dumb.

Which of course he was. “You got chicken noodle tonight?”

She nodded. “That’s all?”

“Yeah,” he said. Not that he usually had much of an appetite, but his asshole friends ambushing him with their knowledge of Emma had chased away his ache for food.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out and unlocked the home screen. The text was from Dare. He frowned at the guy sitting four feet from him and then opened the message.

Emma’s number is 301-555-1851. She asked to get in touch with you.

His gut squeezed, and the question was out of his mouth before he’d meant to say it. “Is she okay?”

“Ohhh. Which she would that be again?” Jagger asked, his expression full of mirth. Even though that was irritating as shit, Caine couldn’t hold it against the guy. For months now, Jagger had been uncharacteristically serious—his old easy-going manner dimmed somehow, ever since he’d been released from jail back in November. He’d served almost four months for a crime he hadn’t committed. And even though he’d been exonerated, the experience had marked him in a way that they all saw.

So, fine, Caine wasn’t going to flip his shit. This time. “Yeah, yeah. D?”

Dare nodded. “She’s fine. Just feeling grateful.” He arched a dark brow that communicated everything Caine needed to know—namely that she’d told them what he’d done. And not done. “Anyway, sounds like you did good.”

Caine’s gaze cut to Dare’s harsh face. “The fucker got away. Nothing good about that.”

Haven delivered his soup and a big stack of salty crackers, just like she knew he liked. And that little personal touch… It wasn’t something he was used to receiving, because there weren’t many people who had any reason to know his likes and dislikes that well. “It sounds like you stood up for her, Caine,” she said in a quiet voice, “and that all by itself can mean a lot to a person if it’s not something anyone’s done for them before.”

Her words hit him in places he didn’t like to think too much about.

“You always look out for me…”

Caine swallowed hard against the memory of Grace’s voice. And Haven helped pull him back to the present when she placed a square white pastry box on the counter next to him.

“What’s that?” he managed.

“A little something for Emma. It sounds like she’s a fan of my peanut butter cookies. I baked these fresh, and I was thinking you could deliver some to her. You know, for me.”

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