Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) (5 page)

She led him back into the kitchen to find
it empty and the table tops clean. Voices echoed from the café, so they walked
through. Jude had arrived, and he sat on the table next to the one where the
others were sitting, Belle and Missy either side of him, Daisy leaning against
the counter, arms crossed.

“…get him drunk and then wax his eyebrows,”
Jude was saying, and the others laughed. He was obviously talking about taking
Koru out for his birthday. She was pleased they were going out. Her brother’s
previous birthday had been non-existent, and they’d all been aware that every
birthday after that would be tainted with the memory of their mother dying on
the same day. Koru had been a rock for the family and a massive support for
their father, and he deserved to have a bit of fun.

“If my eyebrows are getting waxed, you’re
getting a Brazilian,” Koru commented.

Jude grinned, saw Cam in the doorway and
raised a hand. “Hey, Mr. Summers.”

“Hey, Jude.”

As usual, whenever anybody said those
words, they all broke out into the Beatles’ song and sang a few lines before
falling into laughter. Honey smiled. The inimitable Jude would make sure Koru
had a good time. Okay, so it would probably involve Jude plying him with too
much alcohol and finding his best mate a nameless blonde for the night before
finding himself a nameless brunette, but for once she didn’t care. There would
be plenty of time for them all to grow up, and her siblings deserved a bit of
fun.

“Sure you don’t want to come with us,
Honey?” Jude asked her wickedly. “We’ll find you a stud on the dance floor,
some dude who’ll make sure everything’s working before this loser finally gets
around to sorting you out.” He gestured at the groom-to-be.

Honey blushed. Dex gave him the finger.
Everyone else started laughing, and Cam rolled his eyes and went behind the
counter to finish tidying up.

“Are the rest of you going?” Honey asked
her sisters, trying to distract attention from her hot cheeks.

“We are,” said the twins together. That
pleased Honey. Koru wouldn’t drink too much if the girls were with him.

“We’re heading off,” Daisy said, nodding at
Reuben. Chase scowled, but they both ignored him. How long would it be before
he gave up? He was like a puppy dog trailing around, Honey thought. She knew
Daisy had feelings for him, maybe even loved him, although Daisy would never
confide that to her. But no way would her ambitious, materialistic sister
settle for anything less than a guy with his own house, car and lucrative
career. Although she still handled the business side of things at
Matariki
,
her life was now in Auckland. Chase wasn’t even in the picture anymore, and the
sooner he came to terms with that, the better it would be for him.

“Right.” Jude got off the table and
extended his hand to Belle to help her off. “Let’s get going.”

They all stood and spilled outside into the
sunny courtyard. The bookshop had closed and the Italian restaurant in the
corner was getting ready to open for the evening. The smell of jasmine hung in
the air, the last remnant of summer.

Honey hugged the twins, kissed the air by
Daisy’s cheek, then threw her arms around Koru, who squeezed her tightly and
held her for a brief moment, the only sign she’d had of any emotion beneath his
carefully cultivated nonchalant façade. Then they all walked away toward the
main road, heading for their cars.

Honey cast a brief glance back over her
shoulder. Her father stood in the doorway to the café, a tea towel in his
hands, and he gave her a wave when he saw her look around. She waved back,
swallowing against the emotion that fluttered in her stomach. Above his head,
the sign glinted gold again in the sun, and she made herself take a steadying
breath. Yes, he was alone, but they’d made it through the day, and he was going
to be all right. He’d go home and Lily would make him dinner, and then when she
got in later that night, they’d sit on the deck and have a glass of wine
together, and talk a little about memories they had when they were all young.
And maybe she’d cry a little, but that was okay. Everything was going to be
fine.

Dex squeezed her hand, and she looked up at
him. He winked at her before waving goodbye to the others and leading her up
the road toward the house he currently shared with Jude in Kerikeri. “I’ll get
changed and then we can head to the restaurant. You ready for something to
eat?”

“Starving,” she agreed.

“Everything all right?”

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Everything’s fine.” And she meant it.

***

Dex had suggested going to the cinema in
the hope that it might take Honey’s mind off the day, but he’d worried she
would find it difficult to forget her mother’s anniversary, and might even grow
upset at times. She didn’t seem particularly emotional, though, and appeared happy
enough through dinner, polishing off her rack of lamb and mashed potatoes,
followed in her case with chocolate torte and his with another latte. Then they
watched the movie, holding hands, and she didn’t object when he snatched the
occasional kiss.

Afterward, he took her home. Unusually, the
large drive in front of the house held only Cam and Lily’s cars—clearly nobody
else had made it home yet. Dex parked and they got out, and without speaking
began their favourite walk down to where the river tumbled over the rocks, heading
for Rainbow Falls a few miles further downstream.

The sun had set but the moon was nearly
full, marbling the rocks white, highlighting the ripples in the river with
silver.

He turned her into his arms and kissed her.
“How are you doing?”

“I’m good.” She smiled up at him. Her big
brown eyes seemed almost black in the moonlight, large in her pale face. She
looked ethereal, and suddenly very fragile and vulnerable, and his heart went
out to her. Usually this was the time when he started nuzzling her neck and
pressing himself up against her, kissing her until they broke away breathless
and groaning, but tonight he drew her close to him and rested his cheek on the
top of her head, looking up at the moon.

“Dex…”

He kissed her hair. “Yes?”

“Is something bothering you?”

He thought about the letter, the words that
circled in his head like flies around rotting meat. “No.”

She drew back. “Are you…” She bit her lip.
“Are you having second thoughts? Only I’d rather you tell me now than wait
until the last minute…”

Alarm shot through him. “No! God no.” He
cupped her face in his hands. “Of course not. I love you. I want to marry you.
And I’m desperate to get you in the sack.”

That made her laugh. “I’m glad.”

“Jeez, don’t ever think that, Honey. Don’t
worry about me. It’s a busy week for both of us. Everyone gets nervous before
the big day. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want it to happen.”

“I guess.” She looked doubtful.

He felt guilty. His fears had manifested as
misgivings, and he hated her thinking he’d changed his mind.

He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip.
“You know the first thing I’m going to do to you when we’re married?”

The look in her eyes changed, morphing from
worry to warm desire in seconds. “No. Tell me.”

He leaned closer until his lips brushed
hers and hovered there, exchanging breaths with her. “I’m going to undress you
slowly, and then kiss every part of your body, from your beautiful ears…” He
trailed his lips around to her left ear and pressed a light kiss there. “…down
your neck…” He touched his lips to her collarbone. “…down to your breasts…” He
raised a hand and cupped one, stroking his thumb across her nipple and enjoying
the way her lips parted in response as she drew in a breath. “…and then all the
way down here.” He dropped his hand to her abdomen, then moved his fingers down
to cup her.

She closed her eyes. “Dex…”

He ran his tongue across her lips, then
kissed her again, slowly, lingering, as he stroked her very lightly. “You know
what? I bet you taste sweet as.”

“Sweet as what?” she breathed, clearly
having forgotten the Kiwi penchant for leaving off the last word.

“Honey,” he said with a grin, holding her
head so he could plunge his tongue into her mouth and stifle her giggle. He
kissed her hard until they were both breathless, then wrapped his arms around
her again. “I love you,” he said fiercely. “And I want you. Don’t doubt it
again.”

“I won’t,” she said in a small voice.

He tightened his arms. Nothing was going to
come between them. Not Cathryn, not bad memories, not his past, nothing. He’d
never been so determined about anything in his life.

There weren’t many people at the court
house. Honey had read that over a hundred and twenty people were called each
week for jury service, and yet only thirty or so were sitting outside the
courtroom when she arrived. Most looked as nervous as she felt. The man nearest
her kept fingering the tie at his neck, clearly not used to wearing one. She’d
done the same, dressed up for the occasion in a long black skirt, white blouse
and black jacket. Some people said dressing down in scruffy clothes guaranteed
you wouldn’t get chosen as you looked less trustworthy, but she couldn’t bring
herself to do that. Carrying out your civic duty was an honour, one she would
be proud to do.

Just not this week, hopefully.

More people came in as it got nearer to
nine thirty, and by the time the court assistant called them in, about sixty
people filtered through the doorway into the rows of seats behind the glass
partition separating the viewing gallery from the courtroom. Honey followed
along a row and took a seat, heart racing. Only sixty out of the hundred and
twenty or so called had turned up—that gave her a one in five chance of being
picked. Not great odds, but not too bad.

The court registrar began checking who was
present. Honey remembered this long, drawn out part from last time—the
registrar read out the names of everyone on the list and you had to call out if
you were there and say how far you’d travelled so they could reimburse
expenses. The names were called alphabetically so hers was nearer the end.

“Summers, Honeysuckle?”

She called out, “Yes, thirty-three
kilometres,” because she’d checked the distance before she got out of the car.

After that, for a while nothing else happened,
and she drew out her book and tried to read for a while, but her mind buzzed
and her stomach churned. In the end, she put the book away and tried to think
about the weekend.

She was getting married. Married! This time
next week, she’d be able to call herself Mrs. Concannon. She’d doodled her
signature repeatedly, practising how to link the H and the C with a big loop. Over
the past six months, thinking about the wedding had been one of her major
joys—she’d whiled away many tedious moments ironing or sitting in the dentist
or out walking by daydreaming about the big day, as well as by thinking about
what she’d finally do to Dex once she got him into bed.

But for once, thinking about it didn’t
settle her. She kept remembering the faraway look he’d had in his eyes, and his
tender but rueful smile, as if he was trying to think how he could get out of
it without hurting her too badly.

His denial that he’d changed his mind when
she questioned him about it the night before had been vehement, though, so she
tried to reassure herself that everything was fine. Besides, she had other
things to worry about at that moment, because the lawyers had taken their
places, and to one side the defendant had entered the court and stood
nervously, looking at her feet.

She was medium-height, of medium
prettiness, with shoulder-length mousy brown hair. She picked at her nails and
refused to look up at the people waiting in the gallery. Honey could understand
her fear. How intimidating to come into the courtroom and see all those people
looking at you, all judging you before they’ve even heard your story. What had
she done? Stolen something? Honey had feared it might be a horrible case, with
the defendant accused of being a rapist, or worse, a murderer. She couldn’t
believe this young woman had murdered anyone. She knew she shouldn’t draw
conclusions before she’d heard the evidence, but then that’s what first impressions
were all about, weren’t they? That’s why the woman wore a neat blouse and
skirt, and why she’d brushed her hair and put lipstick on. Her lawyer would
have instructed her on how to present herself, to ensure the jury’s first
impression was a good one.

The door opened for the judge to enter, and
everyone rose as he made his way to his seat. He was a tall man with a shock of
white hair who scared Honey and she hadn’t even heard him speak yet. But when
he finally did speak, his voice was low and reassuring, and he welcomed
everyone to the courtroom and asked them to sit.

The registrar read the charges to the
defendant. Honey had trouble concentrating, her head buzzing with a hundred
different things. Something to do with wounding with intent—the woman had
attacked someone?

“How do you plead?” the registrar finished.