The Lawson Boys: Marty

by Angela Verdenius

  “Oh no,” she began, a little wildly. “I’m perfectly fine by myself, I probably won’t even stay the whole week, you’ll be bored stiff because I’m going clothes shopping and-”

  “Not at all,” Marty refuted smoothly. “I do have some business meetings to attend and office work, so I’m not free the whole week, but I’ll be able to show you some of the sights.” His lips quirked at one corner. “After all, I couldn’t possibly let you loose in the city alone, could I? Wouldn’t be the decent thing to do.”

  “I’m hardly going to be wandering the streets in desperation,” she retorted, only to bite her lip as Mrs Lawson’s immaculate eyebrows resumed their climb up her elegant forehead.

  “Perish the thought.” Marty’s eyes sparkled. “I’m free this afternoon, actually. Care to join me for a drink?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m not one to drink much.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Mrs Lawson’s smiled approvingly. “You’ll be perfectly safe with Marty. Won’t she, dear?” This question she directed at her son.

  Belle wasn’t sure if she was missing something, because there seemed to be a warning in Mrs Lawson’s tone and a slight narrowing of her eyes as she looked at her son.

  Marty smiled widely back at his mother. “Absolutely, Mum. I will take good care of Belle.”

  Mr Lawson also levelled a look at his son.

  “I promise,” Marty added.

  There seemed to be an undercurrent of some kind amongst the family. Mr Lawson’s face was stern but there was a twitch of amusement on his lips. Mrs Lawson was definitely giving her son a steely look. Marty held up three fingers in a scout’s salute.

  “You weren’t a scout,” Mr Lawson said dryly.

  “That’s what worries me,” Mrs Lawson said.

  “I promise that Belle will be perfectly safe with me.” Marty winked at Belle.

  Mrs Lawson turned back to Belle. “My son will take good care of you.”

  “Are you sure?” The question was out before she could stop it. “I mean - I do beg your pardon - I - uh…”

  Mrs Lawson laughed lightly. “It’s an old family joke, Belle, dear. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

  Belle wasn’t so sure about the ‘old family joke’ bit. She wasn’t silly, even she’d heard about Marty Lawson, the handsome rogue of the family who liked women and had slept in more female beds than she’d had hot meals. Hints of his escapades hadn’t just been in letters to her mother, but also in gossip columns.

  Maybe that was why he hadn’t dobbed her in to his family. Maybe he thought he could have a good time with her. Well, he had another think coming. She’d soon disabuse him of that notion. But not here.

  “I’d love to come for a drink.” She smiled at Marty. “What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at six. We can have dinner at the same time.”

  “Lovely. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, I’m sure.” There went that wicked grin again. “Absolutely my pleasure.”

  Unsure exactly to what pleasure he was referring, Belle toyed with the bread roll between her fingers and decided to turn the conversation around a little. “I understand you work for the family business?”

  He nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

  “He does a wonderful job.” Mrs Lawson patted his arm fondly. “He’s very clever.”

  “And I get all A pluses on my homework,” Marty added.

  “That’s not how I remember it,” Mr Lawson said.

  “I was wonderful at school.”

  “That’s not how I remember it, either.” His father harrumphed but the twinkle in his eyes belied his gruff tone. “I do remember a lot of detention.”

  “It was all a fabrication. I keep telling you that.” Marty rolled his eyes.

  “And was it a fabrication that had more than several irate fathers knocking on my door when you were a teenager?”

  “Hormones. What can I say?”

  “No more on that subject, that’s what you can say.” Mrs Lawson interrupted. “Really, you’ll give poor Belle all sorts of reservations about going out with you for a drink.”

  As if Belle didn’t already.

  “Trust me, she won’t regret it.”

  “I’m wondering if I will,” his mother muttered.

  Marty’s grin widened.

  Belle glanced dubiously at him.

  “I’ll be good,” he promised.

  At what, she wondered. Behaviour or in bed? And why was she even thinking about him and her in bed? It wasn’t as though he’d ever be interested in her. Just like Trevor, he probably thought she’d be good for a laugh and that was all. Just the thought was enough to hurt.

  “So, what do you do for a crust of bread?” Marty asked.

  Dragging her thoughts from dismal depths, she refocussed on him. “I work in a book store.”

  “Nice. Books. You read a lot, then?”

  “Yes.” Talking about books was a far cry from thinking about Trevor…and crying.

  “What kind do you read?”

  “Depends on my mood.” She relaxed. “Thrillers, mysteries, horror, history.” She flushed a little. “Romance.”

  Was that a flicker of something in his eyes? Surely not…sympathy? In the next second she realised she must have been mistaken, because a wicked dimple suddenly appeared beside his equally wicked grin. “Erotic romance?”

  “Marty!” Mrs Lawson choked on her orange juice.

  “What?” His eyebrows rose. “Harly reads erotic romances. I hear it’s all the rage.”

  “What Harly reads is her business.”

  “Alex says it’s very interesting research.”

  She rested her forehead in one hand. “God give me strength.”

  Mr Lawson gave a muffled laugh.

  Marty’s bright eyes switched to Belle. “So?”

  “I read romance of all genres.”

  “Dominance and submission?”

  “Okay!” Mrs Lawson slapped the table lightly. “That’s enough.” She turned a motherly smile on Belle, though her exasperation with her son was evident in her slightly flared nostrils. “How are things going back home?”

  Visions of dominance and submission with Marty wielding a very dominant hand were dancing sinfully in Belle’s head. Glad to turn her attention elsewhere, she pushed the thought of Marty in leather pants to the back of her mind and smiled in relief at his more well-mannered mother. “Quiet. The usual. The store is going well, my boss is nice, and the town is growing slowly. The normal town trend.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend, dear?”

  She almost felt the colour drain from her face. “Um…no?” Shit, why did that answer come out as a question? “I mean, no. No, I don’t.” Because really, you couldn’t count that immoral turd, Trevor.

  “What a shame. I don’t understand why you don’t have a nice boyfriend. Maybe Cindy can introduce you to some nice men while you’re here.”

  “Oh, I…I don’t…I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but really-”

  “Geez, Mum, and you think I embarrass the family,” Marty interjected.

  “Sorry, dear.” Mrs Lawson smiled. “I guess it’s just with Cindy and Alex both married I have wedding bells still dancing in my ears.”

  Belle looked at Marty. “You still have one son left unhitched.”

  His brows rose in amusement.

  “I don’t think any woman who knows his reputation would consider making him an honest man.” Mrs Lawson sighed.

  “Thank you, Mum.”

  “Just stating the facts, dear.”

  Half expecting an argument to ensue, Belle was pleasantly surprised when Marty simply laughed.

  “I’ve never heard about you,” Marty suddenly stated, all laughter leaving his face to be replaced with curiosity. “How is it that you know my parents?”

  “Our mothers are friends.”

  “That’s right.” Mrs Lawson nodded. “We went to school together but we both got married a
nd moved to different sides of the state. We’ve kept in touch on and off for years. When she mentioned that Belle was coming to visit the city, I immediately invited her to stay here. It’s delightful to have her, I must say.”

  “I’m sure,” Marty said dryly.

  Just what was he getting at? As if she didn’t know! Belle shot him a glare.

  He looked back at her innocently. “So, what do you think of our city so far?”

  “Big. Noisy. Full of people.”

  “Cities are like that.”

  Remembering that she was a guest, and aghast that she’d allowed that to slip for even a second, Belle glanced at Mrs Lawson. “Interesting, too. So many things to see.”

  Mrs Lawson smiled and the conversation turned to idle chit-chat. She filled Belle in on her daughter, Cindy’s, cat adoption program, the wedding of her son Alex to the lovely Harly, and a slew of other light topics.

  Mr Lawson put his two pence worth in now and again, but he mostly spoke to Marty quietly and from the few snatches of conversation she caught, Belle had an idea it was about business.

  The meal passed pleasantly enough and once they’d all drunk their coffee and tea, Marty got to his feet. “I must go. Al has had the house to himself most of the day, God knows what he’s done to it. Cindy will be home in a few hours wanting him back. I better make sure he’s respectable.”

  “Oh dear.” Mrs Lawson looked was concerned. “What did he do?”

  “Don’t worry, I managed to get the flour out of his coat. Took the vacuum cleaner to get the rest up off the floor, though.” Marty grinned. “Never knew flour could be such a devil to get out of corners. Stuff gets everywhere.”

  “How did he get the flour?”

  “When he went hunting the tea bags.”

  “Marty, you know you have to keep the pantry closed when Al is around.”

  “Don’t look at me. He opened it.”

  “He didn’t eat any, did he?”

  “Tea or flour?”

  “Either! Marty, he’s just a baby!”

  A baby who broke into the pantry to eat flour and tea bags? Belle’s eyes widened.

  “Al is one year old.” Marty picked up his jacket from where he’d slung it across a small chair in the corner. “Hardly a baby, Mum.”

  “If you can’t look after him properly while Cindy is away, you better bring him here.”

  Obviously Al was Marty’s nephew, but why on earth his sister would leave a one year old baby with a bachelor of dubious habits was beyond Belle, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t her business.

  “I’ve looked after Al heaps of times.” Picking up the coffee cup, Marty drained the dregs and placed it back on the table with a wink at his mother. “He loves staying with me.”

  “Because you let him run wild.” Mrs Lawson shook her head reprovingly.

  “And you don’t?” Marty pointed at the door. “I see you have your own grandkids in hand.”

  When had children arrived? Belle glanced at the door to see one of the kittens prancing past with an impressive red bra over its head, the other kitten behind it holding a strap.

  “Oh!” Mrs Lawson was out of her chair and in pursuit. “You little devils! Give me my bra back!”

  Laughing, Mr Lawson saluted Marty. “Nice save.”

  Bemused at the fact that the grandkids to which Marty referred were the kittens, Belle nodded. Now she had a fair idea that Al was a cat, not a human. Somehow that only made her like the Lawsons more.

  Marty grinned and winked at Belle. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  Or Mr and Mrs Lawson, anyway. She was reserving judgement on the youngest son.

  Chapter 2

  Deciding to spend the rest of the afternoon at the lovely mansion, Belle explored the gardens. Colours burst from flowers and bushes, little paths meandered around and the place was utterly delightful.

  Her mother had often talked about Mrs Lawson, and after meeting her and her husband and seeing the family photos on the walls, Belle could easily imagine the gardens and house filled with the cheerful laughter, arguments and chatter of children. The mansion and gardens were lovely, but it was also homely.

  She spent several hours sitting in a comfortable swing chair under a tree reading, trying to forget all about the dastardly Trevor, before making her way back inside.

  Meeting Mr Lawson in the foyer with the battered tom snuggled in his arms, she couldn’t help but smile. Tall, thin and slightly stooped, his blonde hair sprinkled liberally with grey, he was the epitome of a well-to-do gentleman, seeming very laid-back and quiet in comparison to his wife, but his shrewd brown eyes missed nothing and gave testament to the fact that he was extremely intelligent.

  And was obviously a sucker for animals. The tom did everything but actually smirk at her from his safe haven in Mr Lawson’s arms.

  “Nice of you to take him in.” Lifting a hand, Belle allowed the tom to sniff her.

  “Poor little bugger, he’s had a hard life.” Mr Lawson ruffled the tom’s ears and a deep, grating purr broke from the cat’s massive chest. “But Mister is now cruising in the lap of luxury, aren’t you, old boy?”

  “Mister?”

  “Don’t look at me, Diana named him. My wife is of the opinion that he is worthy of a name that reflects his personality. He’s a real mister, she reckons.”

  Belle laughed.

  Mister stared at her before laying his chin back on Mr Lawson’s arm and half closing his eyes.

  “He doesn’t seem to mind the kittens,” Belle remarked.

  “He tolerates them as long as they leave him alone. Trust me, the Terrible Two quickly learned who rules here and they give him a lot of respect…and distance.” Mr Lawson grinned.

  Mrs Lawson came hurrying down the staircase. “Oh, Belle, there you are. Honey, we’re slipping out for a short time to visit a friend who isn’t well. I didn’t think you’d mind, seeing as Marty will be here in an hour or so.”

  “Of course not.”

  Mrs Lawson gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and proceeded to give instructions as though Belle were one of her own grown children. “Now, Marty has a spare key to let you back into the house again. The staff is going home early tonight as no one will be home for dinner. Our mobile number is written on the phone pad if you need us for anything at all. The furries have plenty of food so they’ll be fine, though if you don’t want anything personal disappearing, I’d advise you to shut your door on the youngsters, they’re shocking thieves. We should be home about ten o’clock as we’ll be eating out tonight as well. Now, dear, is there anything else you need to know?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine, thank you.” Belle had to bite her lip against adding ‘Mum’.

  “She’ll be fine.” Mr Lawson winked at Belle and handed her Mister, who proceeded to hang in her arms as though he’d lost all use of his legs.

  And boy was he heavy.

  “Now don’t mind Marty, he’s a bit of a tease, but don’t let him go too far…” Mrs Lawson trailed off and cleared her throat. “He’ll be good.”

  Belle’s eyebrows rose. Was she actually warning Belle about her own son?

  “Anyway…” Leaning forward, Mrs Lawson gave Mister a kiss between his battered ears. “You be a good boy for Granny, won’t you, sweetie? Go and curl up on our bed if you want to, baby.”

  Mister blinked at her and drooled on Belle’s arm a little.

  “Oh, you poor baby. Never mind, Uncle Tim will fix your teeth on Tuesday.” Giving him one last fondle of the ears, Mrs Lawson gave Belle an absent-minded pat on the cheek and turned to her husband. “Come along, dear, or we’ll be late.”

  Left standing in the foyer, Belle could only shake her head in bemusement. Her hosts were an odd couple. She half expected to see them in holey cardigans, standing on a sagging veranda of a run-down farm, poor but happy. Instead they lived in a mansion and ran a business that was known for both buying out struggling smaller businesses and making them flourish, and buying luc
rative businesses and making them even more successful. The Lawson name was known as belonging to a very intelligent, sharp, shrewd family, yet the Lawsons themselves were such unpretentious people with a family loyalty and warmth that was as familiar as her own working family back home.

  Probably that was why she didn’t feel out of place amongst them. Or amongst Mr and Mrs Lawson, anyway. She had yet to meet Cindy and Alex, their other two children, or their spouses, but seeing as one was in the Army and the other into cat rescue and the family business, they sounded nice.

  Marty, on the other hand, she had yet to see what game he was playing.

  Mister seemed disinclined to get down, so she lugged him upstairs to her bedroom and placed him down on the bed, where he proceeded to stand, think about it, then sit down and start his ablutions.

  “Nice,” she said. “Just lick yourself while sitting on my bed.”

  Being a cat, he ignored her.

  Noting the time was passing, Belle had a quick shower and got dressed. Uncertain exactly here they were going to dinner, she pulled on a pale pink maxi dress that gathered under her breasts in a baby-doll fashion and fell to just above her feet, skimming her over generous curves gracefully. At the top of the low-cut bodice was a thin, black ribbon tied in a little bow. Taking out a lacy black cardigan, she draped it across the end of the bed. It wasn’t made for warmth, but it set off the pink of the dress and made her a little less self-conscious of her rounded arms. Placing money into a small black clutch, she set it beside the cardigan before slipping into low-heeled black pumps. Her brown curls she fastened back with a clip at the nape of her neck. A swish of mascara, a swipe of pale rose lipstick, a spritz of perfume and she was as ready as she was ever going to be. She just hoped her clothes were suitable for wherever Marty took her.

  Gathering up the cardigan and clutch, she went downstairs. Leaving the cardigan and clutch on the foyer table, she wandered into the lounge room. Marty wasn’t due for another thirty minutes, so she crossed to the coffee table and picked up the folded local newspaper to read.

  The first two pages were full of the usual bad news, but then she got to the third page and her eyes widened.