Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) - By Caitlyn Robertson Page 0,26

Had wanted to try and sort it herself. Women were constantly told nowadays that they shouldn’t expect men to sort out their lives for them, that they had to be strong and cope alone. But not everyone was strong. Sometimes people need a little help, she thought, getting in her car and opening her phone.

The first thing she registered was that there were no messages from Dex. Seven from the wedding organiser, but none from the man she was supposed to marry.

She sat there for a few minutes, fighting back tears. It didn’t mean anything. He occasionally went all day without contacting her. He’d told her that sometimes he had quiet days where he longed for something to happen, but most days he lurched from problem to problem, and perhaps today was one of those.

She forced half a sandwich down and read the texts from the wedding organiser. The woman—Gillian—was very pleasant and had obviously been told to keep her customers informed on events, but she’d interpreted that as relating every little problem that arose, even if they were solved half an hour later. Honey’s stomach churned as she read that the florist had fallen and broken her ankle—but Gillian then went on to say she knew of another who had agreed to pick up the order.

The next message said menus had been printed but a mistake had been found in the spelling of one of the dishes. Honey clenched her fists, knowing she’d checked every word in the menu three times, only to read in the following text that the error appeared to have been the printers’ end, and they were going to reprint with no extra cost.

The fifth text said the hotel had apparently double-booked the room where the reception was to be held, which sent a spiral of panic through her. The sixth said not to worry, it was a computer error and everything was fine.

“I don’t need to know this stuff,” Honey said out loud, banging the phone on the steering wheel as if she could knock some sense into the woman. “Why bother telling me when you’ve already sorted it?”

The seventh text said the white Rolls Royce that was supposed to take Honey to the hotel had failed its Warrant of Fitness and wouldn’t be fixed until the following week—the small local firm had offered a silver Rolls Royce instead, if that suited.

Fighting the urge to say she’d be happy to use Harry Potter’s Knight Bus if it meant she could get to the wedding, Honey texted the word FINE and sank back in the seat, exhausted. She’d spoken the truth. She’d have worn a T-shirt and trackpants, cycled there on a tandem and served the guests ham sandwiches if it meant she could marry Dex and live happily ever after. She just wanted to marry the guy she loved.

That wasn’t asking for much, was it?

Chapter Eleven

“We haven’t decided where we’re going on Friday yet, have we?”

Dex glanced up from his cappuccino to see Chase, Jude and Koru looking at him, and realised they were talking about his stag night.

“Earth to Concannon,” Jude said. “Stop daydreaming about your bride-to-be and focus, for crying out loud.”

Dex shifted in his chair, guilt sweeping over him. He’d been thinking about Cathryn, not Honey, going over that awful moment again where he’d given into the kiss, wishing he could erase it from his memory, from existence in fact. “I thought we were going for a curry,” he said, somewhat irritably, wishing all he had to worry about was how drunk he was going to be at the altar on Saturday. “And then to the Sports Bar for the match.”

“Just checking,” Chase said. “You murmured something about not going last week, although we all presumed that was lack of sleep talking or something. We knew you weren’t serious.”

“I was serious,” Dex mumbled, but they ignored him and started talking about strippers.

Dex didn’t reply, knowing it was all talk as he’d made it quite clear he’d walk out if a stripper walked in. Not his scene at all.

No, his scene was kissing his ex-girlfriend in broad daylight in full view of State Highway Ten.

He resisted the urge to bang his head on the table and glanced across the café, half-wishing Honey was serving there today, half-glad she wasn’t. Instead Belle—the twin with long brown hair and sad brown eyes—was making the pastries, Lily was making coffee, and Cam was serving. Missy and Jasmine were in the kitchen, baking.

Dex caught Cam’s eye

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