“Uh huh.” Dalton closed his eyes. His head banging. He never was one for drinking wine—it always gave him the mother of all hangovers. “I had no idea she came round. What time is it?”
“Two.”
“Shit.” Dalton sat up, head swinging and the room blurring a little. “Did she take the cat with her again?”
“No.” Danny rolled his eyes. “Dropped her off at our place. By the way, she scratched the new leather sofa. Milo won't be happy about it. Be prepared for that comeback later.” Danny shifted Dalton's feet to the floor and sat down next to him. “Got you this.” He handed over a card and a leaflet for a funeral home. “It’s who organised my mum’s a couple of years ago. They did a good job. Thought it was a start for you.” Danny pulled out a carefully wrapped package from his bag and opened the tin foil up, passing Dalton what smelled like a sage and onion stuffing, beef sandwich. “Samuel made it. He said you’d need something inside you to help settle your stomach. I laughed, he didn’t, but come on, that’s funny.”
Dalton smirked as he took the sandwich, the smell making his stomach growl in appreciation. “I love Samuel for this.”
Danny snorted, his mouth full as he nodded. “Yeah, he’s a good one. Looks after me and Milo. We’d seriously fall apart without him tugging us together constantly.”
“I don’t know how you make it work. I can't even wrap my head around two people, let alone three.”
“It’s exactly the same, just one more person to consider, and that one more person is why we all work. I doubt we’d find what we were looking for with just one of us. It just feels right, you know. When it feels right, it generally is right. It’s okay with two of us from time to time, but it never feels better than when we’re all there. And I don’t just mean the sex.” He grinned at Dalton. “Although, that does add a lot to the mix.”
It had been so long since Dalton actually had sex he struggled to recall exactly what the moment felt like. He wasn’t discussing Liam with anyone. Okay, Kelly had met him, but Liam was his trainer and that was it as far as Dalton was concerned. He didn’t need another reason for Milo to go mental at him. That would just be another nail in the coffin regarding him returning to work, and right then, Dalton needed to get his mind off what was going on in his personal life and concentrate on the job.
“You should get laid.” Danny’s statement made Dalton laugh. “You should do it. Just go out, have a few good drinks, pick someone up. Some woman who’s totally not Kelly and see how it goes. I know you're probably worried about getting back out there, but it’s not as bad as you think. Times have changed. Women do all the picking up around here now, so I hear anyway. Drinking alone isn’t good. If you want to loosen up, then do it with friends.”
“I don’t do this every night. Last night was just…” Dalton trained off.
“I get it, I do. I've been right here, mate. I'm just saying, don’t wallow in here alone. Do it with people who can either get pissed with you and carry your sorry arse home. Or let you cry on their shoulder and comfort you through the dark times.”
Dalton smiled as he bit into his sandwich. He was lucky to have friends like Danny. “I don’t mean to push you away. It’s been difficult this past month.”
“Friday, you're coming out with me and some lads from the station. It’s round all the straight places, so we can work on getting you a girl or two.” As Danny tucked into his sandwich, Dalton got the feeling there something on his mind, and he waited until they were both screwing up their empty wrappings to let him continue. “If that’s what you want, obviously. We can always go out to Canal Street again and have some fun there.”
“I really don’t mind where I go, Danny.”
“Yeah, Samuel sort of said you wouldn’t.” Danny smirked and Dalton folded his arms across his chest.
“How’s his friend doing? The one with the heels. Blue.”
“Oh, him.” Danny laughed loudly. “He’s a true piece of work. He and Samuel have become BBFs. It drives Milo nuts, but I like him. He asked about you the last time I saw him.”
“What did he say?”
“Not much, just asked how you were doing.” Danny wiggled his brows. “So—”
“Nope. Not going there.”
“Aww, Dalton.” Danny pouted before he cracked and laughed again.
“I’ll go out anywhere. Thanks for the contact details, I’ll call them now. Give me an hour to have some coffee, and then I’ll drive over to your place to collect Mog and thank Samuel for the food.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be off then. Got a ton to do back at the station. Give them guys a call, and if you need anything else, just shout one of us. We’re close by and happy to help.” Danny hugged him tightly. “Make sure that’s a strong coffee, Officer. I wouldn’t want you drunk driving.”
“I’ll make sure I'm safe for the road, Daniel Harris.” Dalton nudged him gently to the door. “Thanks for checking up on me.”
“Any time you need me to break in and wake you up from an alcoholic stupor, I'm there, man.”
Dalton chuckled as Danny made his way out of the house and to his car. “I’ll sort out the leather sofa at your place too.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Dalton. I was just messing with you. Milo will be cool about it.”
That was a lie and both of them knew it, so they cracked into fits of laughter before Danny closed the car door and waved at him.
Dalton leaned against the doorframe and watched him drive off. At least he had food in his belly and a reason to get out of the house. His Mog needed picking up and he should drop off some chocolates for Samuel as a thank you for the food. He could call the funeral home up after he got back. That was the plan, and as long as he had one, he was happier. He wasn’t sure what needed to be done regarding a funeral, but the guys who Danny had pointed in his direction would do. He was good at delegating.
He just wanted this to be right, it was the last thing he could do for his dad, the last outward chance he would have to show how much he was loved. It had to be right, and if that meant handing over the reins to the professionals, he would happily do it. At least now his parents were reunited, together once again.
Chapter 24
Troy was just packing up the shop when the buzzer went off, indicating someone had walked in the front door. He was alone, Sian having gone home not so long ago after her last client, leaving him to catch up on some paperwork.
Troy shot a quick look at the clock on the wall behind him and groaned. It was half an hour before closing time. He wouldn’t be inking anyone this late, but he could book them in for another day if they wanted to wait. Too many people were in a rush to get work done. Troy liked people to put time and effort into what they wanted.
“I won’t be a second. Just take a look around.”
“Okay.” The low voice of a man floated down the hallway. A Manchester accent, but more well-spoken than the usual type.
Troy was wiping his hands, trying to get the purple ink out from under his nails as he walked into the main room which housed his designs and sketches. He looked up to see the back of a man standing staring at the large poster of Troy's back hanging on the wall. It was a photograph Sian took earlier in the year. She had an eye and caught the ink work running down his back and thigh perfectly. He couldn’t help but display it. After all, it was a tattoo studio, why not?
He was about to speak when the guy slowly lifted a hand, resting his finger tip against the glass covering the poster and working its way down Troy’s back. Well, Troy corrected himself, not his back, the picture of his back. Nevertheless, the tall blond was someone who he wouldn’t mind touching him for real.
“Hey there.”
The blond almost jumped, but caught himself just in time, glancing over his shoulder, a look of hesitation on his face, like he’d been caught stealing sweets from his mum’s bag.
“Sorry.” Troy smiled, then stumbled over his words as the blond faced him full on. Oh, Troy remembered him. It had been a couple of weeks since he last saw him out in town, but there he was. The sexy guy who’d worn the pink Ralph Lauren top and who had an ass Troy was itching to get his hands all over. “I’m Troy. I own this place.”
“Hi, I'm Dalton.” He offered his hand, a warm smile on his face. He was even better looking up close and Troy felt his stomach spin as they shared a look.
Troy looked at his ink-stained fingers, and then showed them to him. “I'm messy. I don’t want to ruin your clothes by getting you all messed up.”
Dalton put his hands in his jean pockets and rocked on his heels. “Is that you?” He nodded back to the poster.
“Oh, yeah.” Troy ran his fingers through the mess which was his hair, suddenly feeling like he should’ve put more effort into his look before stepping out, but who knew the man he’d been thinking about for the last two weeks would be standing right in his shop. “It’s… I dunno why I put it up.” He looked at the poster then at Dalton. “How’d you know it was me? You can't see my face and my ink is covered up.” Stupid air con was now too cold and Troy had taken to wearing jeans and long sleeved tops until he sussed out how to change the setting on it.