Shelly, Wolfe’s wife, is getting in her car when I get to the Inn. She gives me a big wave. Okay, well, it must not be too major of a crisis over here. If there was trouble, she’d be right in the middle of it.
“Hey, Rage,” Tiff says, smacking her gum while leaning over the counter to show me her tits.
“Are the twins here?”
“I don’t know. I just got here.”
Cole jogs down the stairs.
“Why aren’t you over at the Cage?” I ask him.
“We were just getting ready to head over there.” He pulls me to the side. “There was a small issue, but we handled it.”
The two of us head up to Serenity’s room, but before we go in, he pauses outside the door. “She’s a little self-conscious right now, so don’t react.”
“Do I ever?”
He rolls his eyes because he knows I’m right. When we get inside, Serenity is in the bathroom, and Carson is sweeping her hair into a pile in the middle of the floor.
That explains why Shelly was here.
“I thought I told you guys to get her over to the Cage. Did she really need a haircut first?”
Carson points to the bed, and I walk over to find hair scattered over the pillows. “Did she cut her own hair?”I hope she didn’t do this because she was scared of us.
“No, but we think we know who did.”
She walks out of the bathroom, and it takes everything in me not to react. I’ll admit that surprises me.
I also don’t like the way she retreats when she spots me. The door clicks softly, and she continues to hide out in the bathroom.
“Tiff must have snuck in here last night. I already asked Cowboy to check the cameras, but it seems they mysteriously cut out for about an hour,” Cole says.
“But …” Carson holds up a finger, continuing where his brother left off, “I just happened to find this in her car.” He drops a plastic bag with a pair of scissors and a clump of Serenity’s beautiful hair onto the bed.
I take a deep breath. “Bring her up here.”
The two of them exchange a knowing glance before jumping into action.
I walk over and rap my knuckles against the bathroom door.
“Go away.”
“It’s …” I push the door open, and just like the first time I saw her, my breath is stolen from my lungs.
“Don’t you dare say it’s just hair. I know it’s just hair, but it was mine,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
Her bottom lip trembles, and I reach out, trailing my thumb over it. My eyes take in her short pixie cut. She’s fucking adorable, and trust me, I don’t use that word often.
The way her green eyes shimmer with tears makes my dick fucking rock hard, something that usually doesn’t happen unless I have at least a half bottle of tequila in me.
I step into her, whispering into her ear. “You look stunning.”
She stumbles as I push us farther into the room. I kick the door closed with the bottom of my boot and spin her around. Her soft gaze meets my hard one in the mirror. My fingertips trail over the back of her exposed neck, and she shivers.
“You don’t have to pretend to like it,” she says quietly, her head dipping in an attempt to escape my touch.
I reach around and grab her chin, forcing her to look at us. “Do I look like a man who pretends anything?”