chapter Fourteen
Honey stood by the front window, looking down the drive. It was six thirty, and Dex was late.
Her stomach churned. She’d spoken to him briefly after she returned from the courthouse, and once again he’d seemed reluctant to visit her, but he’d finally agreed when she put her foot down and told him she wanted to see him and they were going to have a conversation about what was going on.
The worry that had been gnawing away at her stomach started to work its way upward, filling her with a rising sense of doom. He was having second thoughts about the wedding, she was sure of it now. Why, she didn’t know. It didn’t really matter in the long run. What mattered was that they got it sorted. She had to ask him if he wanted to call it off. Because the last thing she needed was to be left at the altar.
She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the window. What a hell of a day. That afternoon, the prosecuting lawyer had called his other witnesses. It was a mixed bag and a sorry story. By the end of it, Honey was pretty sure she knew what had happened.
No doubt there was some truth to James’s story, and Sarah had probably been overly possessive and jealous of his time, but she’d been driven to act like that because of the way he’d treated her, out all hours, drinking, obviously having affairs, ignoring her half the time. When he left, he had refused to give his key back and had probably told Sarah he would be coming for his stuff but had refused to tell her when. She had almost certainly known it was he when the door opened, and she had confronted him and told him he couldn’t just walk into her house whenever he felt like it. He had told her the flat was his and he’d do whatever he wanted. And she’d finally lost her temper and flown at him.
Almost certainly she had intended to do wound him.
And in Honey’s eyes, the bastard deserved it.
Still, she wasn’t looking forward to making the final decision the next morning. She knew in her heart that most of the jury believed James because he’d been very convincing in painting Sarah as high maintenance and himself as the innocent party who’d tried to do his best for her. It was not going to be an easy ride, and a feeling of dread had descended over her, which wasn’t helped by the impending conversation with her fiancé.
The sound of scrunching gravel filled the air and she opened her eyes to see Dex’s car pull up in front of the house. At that moment, Stormwind was empty—her father still at the shop with Missy and Belle, Daisy in Auckland with Reuben, Koru God knew where with some blonde or other, and Jasmine and Lily had gone to the cinema.
Dex got out of the car, and Honey watched him close the door and then wait a minute, hands on hips, thinking. She put her hand over her mouth. Was he planning to come in and tell her it was all over?
He turned and walked slowly to the door, and she went into the kitchen and started filling the kettle, her hands shaking. She heard him come into the house and listened for his footsteps on the rimu floorboards as he rounded the corner.
“Hey you.” She finished filling the kettle, placed it on its base and flipped the switch. “I’m making a cuppa. You want one?”
She turned, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, as it always did. He wore cream chinos, his hands jammed in the pockets, and a tight All Blacks rugby shirt. His hair was ruffled, his bright blue eyes serious as he studied her, his brows drawn together in a thoughtful frown. He was the handsomest man she’d ever met, and she’d thought he was hers. Was that still the case?
She walked a few steps toward him and stopped. “You look nice,” she managed, trying not to cry.
For the first time, he smiled, his lips curving a little in one corner. “So do you.”
She glanced down at herself. She’d chosen her outfit carefully—a long, light orange dress that brought out the warm tones in her skin, and she’d undone more buttons than usual, leaving a few inches of cleavage on show and a glimpse of her lacy bra visible above the bodice.
She looked back up at him. His smile gave her courage. His eyes were still warm, and she had seen the way they lit up when he first walked into the room and saw her.
She walked the final few steps up to him and rested her hands on his chest. “I missed you,” she murmured, stroking her fingers across the silky black material.
“I missed you too.” His husky voice made the hairs rise on the back of her neck, but he didn’t take his hands out of his pockets.
She raised one hand to cup his face and looked into his eyes. He’d showered, and he smelled of clean male and aftershave, and his cheek was smooth. She brushed her thumb across his lips, then raised herself on tiptoe, leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
She kissed him lightly. He didn’t return it, but neither did he pull away, so she stayed there, moving her mouth across his slowly, closing her eyes, taking the time to enjoy him. She slipped her hand into his hair, liking the feel of the soft strands through her fingers, grazed her teeth on his bottom lip and snaked her other arm around his waist.
Opening her eyes a little, she saw that his were closed but the frown still hovered between them, as if he was fighting with himself, trying to resist her. She pulled him closer, pressing her breasts against his chest, and ran her tongue across his lip.
That did it. He sighed, took his hands out of his pockets and wrapped them around her, and she sighed back happily as he opened his mouth and stroked her tongue with his. Fire shot through her, and when he pushed her up against the kitchen counter, she didn’t try to stop him.
Damn, but this waiting was so hard. Perhaps it had all been a mistake—maybe if they’d had sex he wouldn’t be having second thoughts. Emotion rose within her and brought tears to her eyes, but Dex was too busy kissing her to notice. He’d cupped her head and deepened the kiss, and she moaned softly as his hands started exploring her body, stroking her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple beneath the fabric.
He clenched his fingers in her hair, plunging his tongue into her mouth, and his other arm clasped her around the waist firmly. Honey began to spiral out of control. The tension of the last few days, the stress of the case, the promise of her wedding and of finally becoming Dex’s wife, and now her fear of losing him, all of these knotted together, and she clung to him, terrified of letting him go in case he walked out of her life and never came back.
He tore his mouth from hers and planted hot, wet kisses down her neck, and she tipped her head back.
“Don’t leave me,” she couldn’t help saying as he kissed back up to her mouth.
“I won’t.” He kissed her hard, bruising her mouth, but she didn’t care. “I couldn’t Honey, I love you more than anything in the world.”
“Tell me again.”
“I love you.” He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, back to her mouth. “I love you.”
A deep ache filled her, along with an urge to prove that she wanted him. What the hell, they were going to be married at the weekend anyway. She fumbled at his trousers, trying to undo the button, and he groaned and caught her hands.
“Please,” she whispered. “Let me.”
He hesitated, and she raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him again, expecting him to start undoing her dress, maybe even lift her and carry her off to the bedroom.
But he didn’t. He sighed, wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I love you,” he murmured.
Disappointed, wondering why he hadn’t agreed when she’d been so willing, she rested her cheek on his chest. “I love you too,” she said. And she meant it. She loved him more than life itself.
If only the doubt that ate away at her joy like acid would go away, everything would be perfect.