Page 43 of Under Southern Stars
“Part of the package, yeah? You get my interfering mum, I get your tosser ex.” I check the time. “Shit. Morrison’s waiting. But we’re still on for the park?”
“Ten o’clock.” She stretches up to kiss me. “I’ll bring coffee.”
“Want me to bring pastries from that French place?”
“Perfect.” She grabs her keys. “Come on, I’ll drop you at the station.”
The ride is comfortable, her hand occasionally brushing mine on the gear shift. When we pull up to Station 2, she turns to me.
“Ten o’clock, Marina Park?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I lean over, kiss her softly. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for…last night. This morning. Everything.”
I grin. “Anytime, Nurse Mitchell.”
An hour later, paperwork completed and wearing fresh clothes from my locker, I’m waiting at Marina Park with a box of croissants when Sophia pulls up. She emerges from her car with two coffees, looking like sunshine in that blue sweater.
“Flat white for you, red-eye for me.” She hands over my cup. “How was the paperwork?”
“Thrilling. Described the incident in triplicate.” I offer her a chocolate croissant. “Morrison says I’m trending on TikTok.”
“My daughter already texted me three different edits of the rescue footage set to dramatic music.”
We walk along the harbor path, easy conversation flowing. The park’s busy—joggers, dog walkers, families out enjoying the morning. Normal people doing normal things. It feels surreal after yesterday’s chaos.
I can’t help watching Sophia as she walks slightly ahead, the way those jeans fit perfectly. Without thinking, I reach out and squeeze her ohsoperfect ass.
She jumps. “Jack! People are looking!”
“Sorry.” I grin, not sorry at all. “It’s just so perfect. Can’t help myself.”
She tries to look stern but her eyes are dancing. “Oh, you’re abuttguy, huh?”
“Listen,taku ipo,” I pull her closer, squeezing again. “On you, I’m not picky. You’re perfect everywhere, but this—” another squeeze “—isheaven.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Definitely not.” She threads her fingers through mine. “What’s that thing you called me? Taku…”
“Taku ipo. Maori. Means ‘my darling’ or ‘my beloved.’” I bring her hand to my lips. “Too much?”
“No.” Her voice is soft. “I like it.”
We find a bench overlooking the water. Time to bring up good old Aotearoa.
“Actually,” I say, aiming for casual, “I need to go back home for a bit before long. Family thing.”
Her face falls slightly. “Oh. When?”
“Three weeks. It’s autumn there—harvest season. Family needs all hands on deck at the property.” I take a breath. “I know it’s sort-of late notice, but, ahh…thing is…that’s Madison’s spring break, yeah? You both have passports?”
“We do, actually. Troy was going to take her to Costa Rica last year, but the memecoin he’d been hyping got pump and dumped. He lost everything he’d invested.” She rolls her eyes. “ShibaMoonRocket or something equally stupid.”
“So…want to come with me? You and Madison? I’ve got Air New Zealand points saved up. Could cover the flights.”
