Page 95 of Thrill
Danny frowned. “I don’t understand. You moved heaven and earth to make this happen.”
“Yeah. But I can be a dick sometimes.”
Danny stroked his cheek. “What’s the worst they can do? This means a lot to you. I’ll be Mr Perfect.”
“Hmmm, a role you were born to, Mr Healy.”
The streets of Brighton passed by as they made their way to the motorway. There were a few hours of driving ahead.
“I’m glad we’re staying in a hotel,” Danny said. “Then I can definitely take that suit off you.”
Tyler winked at him. “I figured it might be a bit much to have us staying with my parents. You’ll probably need a break. I did say we’d go to breakfast on Sunday before we set off home. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
“Words you may live to regret.”
They were holding the reception in a large ballroom at a local hotel. Thankfully, it wasn’t the one they were staying at. Tyler had booked them into a lovely boutique property a few miles away.
When they had called in to drop their bags off, Danny had considered suggesting they swerve the wedding and have another Saturday in bed. As well as a comfy king size, the room had a bath in the window. Danny couldn’t wait to get into it with Tyler and a decent bottle of red.
Due to traffic, they’d arrived barely on time. Danny had managed to say a quick hello to Tyler’s parents but things were far too hectic for anything more.
Deborah had walked down the aisle suitably bridal. The dress was a little too fussy for Danny’s tastes.
Now the party was in full swing. Deborah had gone for a late wedding and reception. She said it was all the rage. Tyler had voiced his suspicions that she was putting all the funds into the honeymoon. Danny could hardly blame her. Weddings were so expensive.
“Come on,” Tyler said. “Let’s go and have a proper talk with my folks.”
“Can’t wait.”
He had noticed lots of people staring. Probably trying to work out where he fitted in.
They approached. Instantly, Tyler’s mother’s face changed. She muttered something to her husband, who turned. At least he had the decency to attempt to be friendly.
“Mum. Dad. I’d like you to meet Danny.”
“We met him earlier,” Mrs Jones said.
“Not properly,” Mr Jones interjected. He held his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Danny.”
“Thank you, Mr Jones,” Danny said, shaking his hand. “And you, Mrs Jones.”
He received a thin smile from Mrs Jones.
She’d sour milk with that face.
He wondered how two seemingly joyless people created Tyler. It didn’t compute.
Before he could ask about the history of Llandudno or the school Mr Jones was head teacher at, there was a commotion on the dancefloor.
A younger man with a striking resemblance to Tyler was with Deborah.
“Ty,” he shouted. “For old times’ sake.”
Tyler shook his head.
“Go on,” Mr Jones said. “He won’t give up.”
