Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) - By Caitlyn Robertson Page 0,8
to Paihia, meeting some mates and going to one of the clubs for the evening. You sure you don’t want to come along?”
There had been a time when Dex would have jumped at the chance of half a dozen beers and an evening at a nightclub with the hope of finding a pretty blonde to take home for the evening. He was only twenty-eight—the same age as Koru, and Jude and Chase were only a year younger. It was hardly old, and certainly his other three friends showed no sign of slowing down their fun-filled evenings.
But he and Honey were going to see the latest Bond movie at the cinema that evening. They’d catch a bite to eat in the restaurant next door before watching the movie, and then afterward he’d drive them back to Stormwind and they’d probably talk a walk through the paddocks to the river as the sun grew low in the sky and the cicadas sang in the bush. They’d sit on the fallen log by the swimming hole and talk about nothing and everything, about their future, and how many kids they wanted, and how they were going to decorate the house once she moved in with him. And then she’d let him kiss her, and he’d tell her all the things he was going to do to her when he finally got her into bed, and he wouldn’t want the evening to end.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m good.”
Koru nodded, his eyes warm. “Good man.”
Chapter Four
Honey sprayed the top of the counter with disinfectant and washed it down, then looked at the clock. It had just gone five, so she walked across to the front door and placed the closed sign on its stand in the doorway, then went through into the kitchen to find her father.
“Where’s Dad?” she asked the twins, who were finishing off a batch of pies ready for the next day.
“In the yard.” Missy stamped small triangles out of pastry to mark the batch of pies she’d finished as steak and cheese.
Honey hesitated. “Is he okay?”
The both glanced up at her. They weren’t identical and although both slim and pretty, they were very different to look at. Missy had blonde hair and favoured floor-length skirts and pretty blouses. Belle had pinned her brown hair in a tight bun and wore jeans and sporty T-shirts and sneakers. Nevertheless, both their expressions reflected Honey’s concern.
“He’s been quiet,” Belle said. “But I guess that’s not surprising.” She smiled at her sister. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Honey hung her apron on the hook behind the door. “Out there I thought I saw…” Her voice trailed off. Belle looked interested but Missy had raised an eyebrow, and she reminded herself of Missy’s vehement declaration on the day after their mother passed away that when you died that was it—lights out. Most of her sisters and her father found it comforting to believe they were going to see Marama again one day, but Missy had refused to entertain any notion of an afterlife. It had been how she’d dealt with her mother’s death, and Honey supposed she couldn’t blame her for that, even if she wished her sister would be a little less…vocal about her beliefs.
Honey smiled. “Nothing.” She walked toward the back door to the yard.
“Aroha’s out there with him,” Belle called.
“Okay.” Honey pushed open the door and stepped out.
Her hand still on the handle, she paused. Her father stood by the door on the opposite side of the yard, obviously in the process of saying goodbye to the woman who supplied the café with wine. They stood close together, a little closer together than was natural for two people who didn’t know each other very well.
Cam Summers was a fine figure of a man, Honey thought, knowing she was biased but able to view him as other women might see him, even though he was her father. Tall—six three in his bare feet—his light brown hair now edged with grey, he had strong features and eyes the colour of a stormy sky that creased at the outer edges with a dozen laughter lines. He wasn’t laughing now, though, his head down and his hands on his hips, and Honey could see from across the yard that he was trying to hold in his emotion.
The woman standing in front of him rested a hand on his arm. Aroha’s forehead creased with concern as she rubbed his arm and whispered something Honey couldn’t hear.