Ben's farewell squeeze of Lyle's shoulder proved a swift and tense one. Too many questions remained unanswered, and Ben was keen to return as soon as possible to work things out.
But for now, he'd have to be stronger than ever, and finally confront his family with the truth.
Chapter Fifteen
Ben hurried into the plush hotel lobby, bringing a whirl of dead leaves and litter through the swing door behind him. He'd just reached the reception counter when a familiar voice hailed him.
"Ben!" Alison came hurtling down a red-carpeted flight of stairs to his left, labelled "Rooms 101 to 105 and Suites."
"There you are!" she said as he hastened to meet her. "My God, what on earth have you been doing? We all come to visit you, and you disappear off the face of the earth. And, my goodness—you're a total state! You look like you slept on the beach. Did you? And why are you carrying a crash helmet?"
Ben rubbed the day's growth of stubble on his chin then flattened his hair, desperately grasping for the courage the sword had also gifted him. Alison on the warpath was still scary as any fire-breathing dragon. "I'm sorry, but Lyle's poorly and—"
"Oh stop it, you don't have to lie anymore," said Alison. "We all know."
"You know what?"
"Everything, Ben!" Alison pinched her mouth, checking over her shoulder that nobody could overhear before dropping to a stage whisper. "Cully showed us what you've been tardy to share. Of course, it was a hell of a shock when she leaped out of the sea with those fins and that beautiful fishtail. Mum thought she was having heart palpitations, though it turned out to be some dodgy eels she'd eaten. Then, of course, poor Cully had to shoot off because you and Lyle were in some sort of pickle, and…"
Ben tuned out of her spiel, as the truth hammered home. Cully had dumped Ben in Cornwall in order to more easily reveal her identity in Lyle's stead, so Lyle's new family could love him for what he was. It seemed an obvious plan, now Ben dwelled on it, and he was as gutted as he was grateful. He should've been the one to tell them Lyle was a merman, not Cully.
Never again, he vowed. He'd come a long way from the man he'd been in Shanty Wood, but he still shied from battle too readily. From now on, he would be brave at every turn—although given Alison's ebbuliance, he might not have to be as courageous as he'd expected today. His family, so it seemed, had taken the news well, and relief outweighed his annoyance. For once, Cully's ill-conceived machinations had proved useful.
"So you better go produce this gorgeous merman of yours," said Alison, eagerness radiating from her every pore. "We've cancelled the restaurant in favour of room service and the girls have never been so excited. You can't let them down."
"Alright, I'll see if he's feeling well enough." Alison's glee was more than he could handle after the emotional rollercoaster of the night. He handed the crash helmet to her, and she eyed it dubiously. "Look after that for me. And if Lyle does come, be kind to him, okay? He's had a rough few days."
"As if we'd be anything else!" scoffed Alison crossly.
*~*~*
When Ben lifted his knuckles to tap on the door to Suite 107, Lyle shot a fin out from beneath his jacket and yanked Ben back from the brink.
"Are you sure about this?" hissed Lyle. "What if they hate me? Or think I'm a monster? When I take this coat off, I can't even hide my fins."
"They couldn't possibly hate you." Ben wrapped his arms around Lyle, drawing him close. "And there's no need to worry. Cully showed them everything, to take that burden away for us. She really does care for you. She just has a funny way of showing it."
"Great," said Lyle, glancing down at the expensive-looking leather shoes Cully had magicked for him out of nowhere. "Lucky me."
Ben couldn't help being sad over the rift between Lyle and Cully, nor hold back the burning question. "Do you think you'll ever forgive her?"
"For incinerating our beloved mother?" Lyle snorted brusquely. "Probably, though maybe I shouldn't. But for luring me away from you, making me care for her like I used to, and then dumping me like she did… I'm not so sure I can get over that."
"She did mess up," admitted Ben. "She certainly didn't think things through correctly when she left you in Cornwall. But… she's still your sister, and I honestly think, in her weird way, she was trying to do what was right, so—"
"I don't care. I don't want her in my life!" said Lyle, temper flaring. "Hate or otherwise, it's too intense. After she burned Clem… I wanted to throw it in her face, make her hurt like I hurt after Welwyn died." Lyle offered the brittle laugh that was becoming too familiar. "I only held back because of you. I can't hate so hard when you're with me. I'm just too scared of losing you."
"You underestimate yourself," said Ben. "Give it time, love. You might feel differently after—"
Ben broke off as the door swung open, leaving them exposed at the mouth of a gaping black hole. As the lights flew up, Lyle gasped. A hand grabbed Ben's arm, drawing him and then Lyle into a riot of balloons and streamers coloured in ocean greens and blues.
"Surprise!"
The collective shout was raised as the door clicked closed behind. Having been separated from Lyle in the bustle, Ben grabbed Lyle's hand and assessed the scene. His mother looked as apprehensive as he felt, dabbing her curls. His dad and sister beamed. Lucy bounced on her toes, and even Raven smiled shyly, pointing up at a paper banner, which announced in silver felt-tip pen: "Welcome to the family, Lyle!"
Much effort had been put into an ocean theme for the party. Ben's mum and sister wore dangling fish earrings. The twins sported mermaid outfits with metallic green skirts that flared around their ankles to mimic tails.
"Do you like the costumes?" asked Alison, placing a hand on each of her daughter's heads. "They were half-price in a local supermarket today. I couldn't believe my luck."
"They're great." Ben glanced at Lyle, terrified it was all too much too soon. Lyle indeed seemed nonplussed and had blanched a shade whiter, his fingers gripping Ben's painfully hard. But just as Ben silently berated himself for throwing Lyle into yet another intense family affair, Lyle's stony façade melted. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth.
"This is most gracious," said Lyle. His hand flew to his chest in a theatrical yet self-effacing fashion. "I thank you all!"
And then he grinned—that beguiling grin that Ben had missed these past few days, evoking smiles and mirth all around. It snatched Ben's breath from him; even pale and battered, Lyle was so gorgeous that he stunned Ben the same as the day they'd first met.
Ben's dad, Derek, approached with two flutes of champagne. Ben released Lyle from the hug he'd not been able to resist in order to accept the drink. Lyle followed suit, accidentally shrugging the coat from one of his shoulders as he lifted his arm.
"Ooooh!" Lucy squealed at the sight of Lyle's fins, leaping forward. "Just like Aunty Cully's. Can I touch?"
"Lucy!" snapped Alison, though she didn't jump to drag Lucy back, because Derek had just given her champagne. She glared sternly at Lucy and slurped her drink, and Lyle didn't object. He slipped the coat off completely, then kneeled down and tentatively lifted a shoulder fin in Lucy's direction.
"So pretty," cooed Lucy, skittering her fingertips along the fin's shimmery length, making him giggle and slop his sparkling. "I want some too!"
"Leave the lad alone," said Derek, chuckling too. "The grownups need to make a toast."
Lyle put one hand to his knee and rose, shooting a look of such rich affection in Ben's direction that it choked Ben up. Ben slung an arm around Lyle's shoulder then nearly exploded with happiness when, with all his family watching, Lyle slithered a fin about his waist.
"Do you want to do the honours?" said Derek to Marjorie, who'd progressed from her mild shock to sobs of joy also. She retrieved a handkerchief to dab her cheeks then lifted her glass.
"To Lyle," she said, sniffing happily. "Welcome to the Miles family!"
"To Lyle!" echoed the company. The adults knocked back the booze, and Lucy�
�followed by Raven—took this cue to wrap around Lyle and Ben's legs, forming a mini group hug.
"We're not perfect, I'm afraid," said Derek, "but in this family, Lyle, you can always be yourself. You've made Ben happy, and we love you for that—and for everything you are. I won't say we weren't a little shocked, but we're delightedly shocked, I can assure you."
Never had Ben been so proud of his family, nor realized how lucky he was to have them. He half wished time would stop, and that this sweet moment of togetherness could last forever. Of course, it never could…
"I told you," husked Lyle, cutting though Ben's cautionary musings, "I want to stay in your world. Now I want it more than ever."
Ben suppressed a grimace. Lyle had risen to the occasion splendidly, a miracle given all he'd been through. But whether Lyle could survive as part of the human family that so far made him happy was yet to be seen.
Yet as Ben stole a champagne-flavoured kiss from Lyle's soft mouth, a pleasant frisson of magic tingled between them, allowing Ben's optimism to finally hold sway. The magic he'd passed to Lyle on the beach hadn't been a one-off, so maybe—just maybe—Ben's newfound talent could sustain Lyle's magic throughout their life together.
"I've a feeling our worlds have collided, whether we like it or not," said Ben.
Lyle's expression stilled and grew serious then he licked his wet lips, as if lapping up every last trace of magic—and of Ben. "I guess I'll settle for that," he replied. With the twins tugging at Ben's jumper and at Lyle's fins, they surrendered to a conducted tour of the decorations and the pleasures of the wine.
Ben was slipping into a state of comfortable drunkenness—and enjoying how Lyle grew merrier and more rosy-cheeked by the minute—when Alison's mobile bleeped and she looked up sharply. "Grandma's here."
Shit. Ben had clean forgotten Grandma was coming too. He sprang from where he'd sprawled on a luxuriously scaled leather sofa next to Lyle, and clonked down his empty flute on a polished walnut coffee table. "She doesn't know, right… about Lyle?"
Alison broke the pregnant silence. "It's alright, Ben. I'll tell her that you're marrying a merman. Maybe I should take a picture of you and Lyle to help."
"No, thanks." Ben fought off the wooziness from the alcohol and his tiredness to stand ramrod straight. He'd let Cully beat him to telling this bunch about Lyle and regretted it. He wasn't going to hide behind his own sister now. "It's my turn. Has Grandma gone up to her room?"
"Yes," said Alison. "She's in 305. She's just unpacking and said she'd be ready in ten minutes, but I'm quite happy to—"
"I'll meet her there in ten," said Ben.
"And I'll come with you," said Lyle, rising unsteadily to stand by Ben.
Ben hissed between his teeth. He could be brave for himself, but he didn't want to expose Lyle to any hostility. Like other members of Ben's family, Grandma could be abrasive, and he'd no idea how she'd react.
"Don't worry," said Lyle, arranging his hair neatly about his shoulders. "I'll turn on the charm before I whip out the fins. If I don't tame her in a flash, I'll lose my reputation as the south coast's most natural born flirt."
Ben blinked. "Er, are you proposing to chat up my grandmother, Lyle?"
The party spirit had risen to such a level that the whole family fell about giggling. Nevertheless, when Lyle started to clarify that—though the scenario was intended to be comedic—the age gap would actually be less than that between him and Ben, Ben elbowed him lightly.
"Save it," mumbled Ben. "We'll explain that part another day. I think mum's brains might blow a fuse."
Ben took the short time remaining before the quest to drink a sobering glass of water and pop to the bathroom to splash his face. When he returned, Lyle slipped on his long coat, and Derek armed them with their deadliest weapon yet: a bottle of sherry from the minibar.
"I'll make sure Grandma has a tipple first," Ben vowed. He turned to his fiancé, basking in the full force of Lyle's beauty and the twinkling promise of mischief in his eyes—and Ben realized he was confident of victory with Grandma.
She'd adore Lyle. What idiot wouldn't?
He took both Lyle's hands and squeezed them excitedly. "Alright, love, we're going up."
Part Four
Chapter Sixteen
Three Weeks Later—Highsands Castle
"Ow!"
Lyle yelped at the sudden sharp prick in his bottom, and shot a toxic glare at Alison, who knelt at his feet.
"Sorry again," mumbled Alison. She plucked another pin from between her lips and turned her attention to sculpting the silky lilac fabric of Lyle's skin-tight jumpsuit to the curves of his arse.
"Apology accepted," said Lyle graciously. Alison was doing a sterling job, sewing him into his homemade wedding outfit, while all he had to do was stand and pose beneath a magnificently sparkling chandelier. Besides, though he'd learned the key to Alison's heart was to give as good as he got with regards to sniping and glaring, he didn't want to cross her too far. After all, she was equipped with an armoury's worth of needles and pins.
"Mind you don't turn Ben's lovely groom into a colander, Alison," called Derek, who was unpacking his homemade cakes onto a long trestle table.
"Would you like me to have a go?" asked Marjorie, bustling over from where she'd been finalizing a flower display.
"I'm fine, mother, I can cope!" snapped Alison. "In fact, we're pretty much done here. Lyle—how's that feeling?"
"Apart from the hundreds of little puncture wounds, you mean?" Lyle batted his lashes at her, pacifying her in an instant. He twirled to examine himself in one of the mirrors that hung between the wedding room's palatial French windows, with their stunning vistas down toward the sea.
"You look great," said Derek. Marjorie nodded vociferously in agreement, Alison looked smugly pleased with herself, and Lyle wasn't going to argue with any of them.
He loved his outfit, which he'd made with Alison's help. The shiny jumpsuit clung to his trim figure, making it even sexier than the negligee that first inspired him. He twirled again, flicking his hair and fins, unable to contain his glee. The gaps in the fabric, hemmed with lace at the shoulders and thighs, allowed his fins to roam free. They were all his own needlework and would resemble sexy slits in the costume when he had to shift to conceal his fins for the big event.
Lyle wasn't much worried about that anymore. For the past few weeks, he had drawn more than enough magic from Ben's lovemaking to sustain his job and lifestyle. They'd had sex twice that morning, which ought to be enough to keep him human-looking for the ceremony, with the registrar and all the invited guests, and on through the wedding breakfast and party.
At last, everything seemed under control. Although, catching sight of Ben's Grandma, who'd cosied up in a high-back chair at the far end of the room, apprehension trickled back. She scrutinized him, eyes crinkled into severe slits.
Damn. He thought he'd won her over on their first meeting, weeks ago.
"Don't you like it?" he called.
"Can't see you," said Grandma. "Got my reading specs on, that's why. Can anybody help me find my other glasses? Ah, no… here they are in my lap." She switched her spectacles and settled back to examine him properly.
"Well?" asked Lyle, nerves mounting. Grandma maintained her silence for seconds that seemed to linger toward minutes, and then huffed loudly.
"If you were a hundred years younger," she said, "I might consider marrying you myself, but I'm not convinced about all the lace. You look like a walking doily, though the dishiest doily I've ever seen."
"What's a doily?" Lyle asked, as puzzled as he was pleased that Ben's family were now cognizant of absolutely all his secrets. As Marjorie started to explain, somebody rapped loudly on the closed double doors.
"Lyle!" called Ben, voice muffled on the far side. "For God's sake, why can't I come in?"
"You can't see him before the ceremony," yelled Alison. "It's tradition."
"He's not my bride," moaned Ben. "The girls are playing M
inecraft, and I've nothing to do here. I want to see you, Lyle. Don't you want to see me?"
Lyle chewed his lip, torn. He'd liked the notion of surprising Ben with his outfit at the start of the ceremony. On the other hand, Ben had witnessed much of the sewing activity, so had a good idea how it would turn out. And Lyle wanted to see Ben. Lyle always wanted to see Ben.
"Alright," said Lyle, though he didn't want Ben to just walk into the half-decorated wedding room like this was any old day. It had to be special. "I'll meet you outside on the veranda."
Lyle closed his eyes, connected with the fizz of magic Ben had gifted him earlier, and willed his fins to disappear. It was a shame, but Ben wouldn't have been able to see Lyle in his full glory at the ceremony anyway, and he couldn't risk the castle staff seeing his true form now. He opened one of the French windows and stepped out onto the veranda, revelling in the meek December sunshine. He'd only a minute to enjoy the stunning ocean vistas before Ben appeared around the base of the cone-topped turret at the far corner of the castle.
At first glance, Ben looked red-faced and stressed out as he trotted closer. Then, spotting Lyle, he paused a moment. His posture straitened and a smile spread slowly. Lyle propped his elbows on the balustrade, letting the breeze sweep back his hair, and enjoying his view of Ben, whose grey suit showed off those broad shoulders to perfection. Ben adjusted his lilac tie, which coordinated with Lyle's outfit, and approached with confident strides.
"You look stunning," said Ben, in a gravelly, lust-addled husk.
"So do you, darling."
The gap between them dissolved; Ben's earnest brown gaze smouldered with hunger, and Lyle simply salivated for Ben. Lyle had only an instant to gather in his reeling senses before Ben was upon him, gliding a hand into the small of his back. Ben bent him back over the balustrade and plied his lips with a ravishing kiss.
Lyle pressed up into the delicious sensations. He lapped up the little sparks of magic that tingled from Ben's tongue, and enjoyed the wonderfully carnal and un-magical rub of flesh against flesh even more. After the centuries he'd passed through, the recent good times as well as the bad, he had to remind himself that this was really happening.
Dragon Rider Page 11