The Lawson Boys: Marty

by Angela Verdenius

  When nothing further was mentioned by anyone about it, and her phone didn’t ring hot off the cradle that night, Belle knew she really was just a five minute news item that would blow over as quickly as had her scandal with Trevor. She wasn’t a socialite, famous, or really newsworthy except for a bit of gossip that would be forgotten within a couple of days. By next week, it would all be a memory.

  That suited her just fine.

  It was also a reminder that what she held special, her ideals and beliefs, weren’t shared by everyone - and that wasn’t always a bad thing.

  Going into the bathroom to shower and change before Marty arrived, Belle knew one thing for sure, if it hadn’t been for her scandal she’d never have met Marty and experienced everything that made her so happy. For that alone, she’d have done it all over again.

  When the doorbell rang, she unlocked it to greet Marty, Alan and Sugar, who was tucked under Marty’s arm. At the sight of Belle, Sugar yipped and wriggled.

  Laughing, Belle held out her hands and Marty relinquished the tiny dog, stooping forward to plant a smacking kiss on Belle’s lips as he did so. “You look as fresh as a daisy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I could pluck you right now.”

  “Cripes.” Alan rolled his eyes as he walked past them into the house, the bags of takeaway dangling from his hands. “Really suave, Lawson.”

  “Yeah.” Marty shook his head even as he twirled a brown curl around his finger to tug her closer. “Sorry about that, Belle. I made you sound like a chicken.”

  “Hmmm. You’re not getting slack in the compliment department, are you?” Holding Sugar eye-level, Belle arched an eyebrow at her. “What’s your secret to keeping your daddy’s devotion?”

  “She’s just cute.” Marty ruffled Sugar’s hair, grinning widely. “Just like you.” He tugged her curl.

  “Smooth talker.” Placing Sugar down, Belle watched as she scampered into the house in search of Cleo.

  “Good to see the two getting on,” Marty observed as Cleo came bolting out of the kitchen with her tail fluffed out like a bottle brush to disappear into Belle’s bedroom with Sugar prancing along behind her.

  “Last night they were playing, remember?” Belle closed the door behind him. “Cleo just likes to pretend she’s startled. Give it a few seconds.”

  Sure enough, Sugar shot out of the bedroom with Cleo on her heels. They skidded into the kitchen, followed by the sound of a food bowl clattering across the floor. Peering around the doorway, Marty and Belle observed Sugar licking cat biscuits off the floor while Cleo sat primly on the kitchen bench watching, eyes wide and tail idly swishing. Cleo blinked lazily at Belle and meowed at Marty, who promptly picked her up, laying her on her back in one arm as he rubbed her belly.

  “Sexy beast,” he said fondly, and her purring filled the air. Slyly he glanced at Belle. “I seem to remember someone else purring last night.”

  “You weren’t rubbing my belly,” Belle retorted.

  His eyes flashed wickedly. “No, I was rubbing something else. Same thing really.”

  Cheeks pinkening even though she laughed, Belle wondered if she’d ever get over feeling a little shy in his presence when he was referring to their heated escapades. She loved it, revelled in the way he enjoyed her body so openly, but once out of the bedroom and away from the heat, she seemed to still retain some shyness.

  Mysteriously attuned to her moods already, Marty said softly, “It’s all right, honey.”

  And just like that, he relaxed her. His words soothed her mind, the deep, reassuring tone sliding through her to smooth her slightly jittery nerves, washing over her like a warm blanket, calming her.

  “I don’t know how you do it.” She looked up at him as he stopped before her. “I don’t know how you know what I’m thinking and feeling. It’s…”

  “Nice?” His smile was as gentle as the kiss he brushed across the tip of her nose.

  “Comforting.”

  “As long as it works, because all I ever want for you is good things.” He winked. “Luckily for you, I’m one of those good things.’

  “I’m surprised you didn’t say the best.”

  “No need to remind you when you obviously know it so well.” Laughing, he kissed her again, light and easy, but his hand at her back was strong, reassuring, and the way he slid it down to lay against the beginnings of the swell of her buttocks was protective. And a little sexy. Oh yeah, Marty held all the aces in the deck of cards when it came to exuding protective and sexy vibes.

  Belle was still surprised at times that those vibes were all directed at her, but not once did she resent it. She welcomed it, revelled in it, knowing she’d never tire of it.

  “You lovebirds coming?” Alan called from the lounge room. “The movie is going to start any minute and I’m starving.”

  “Coming.” Marty sighed. “Why did I bring him again?”

  “Because he’s your best friend, been baby-sitting the dog, and he’s a really nice bloke?” Belle suggested.

  “Nice bloke? Alan?”

  “Sure. I like him.”

  “Thank God for that, because he tends to say things that offend people.”

  “Only because he speaks his mind.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Hey, when you had to fly back to the city to sort out some work issues for two days, he stayed back here in town, remember? He came to tea both nights. We had some good chats.”

  Dubiously, Marty looked from the direction of the lounge to Belle.

  She smiled. “Yep, some real good chats. Your childhood was a little wild, wasn’t it?”

  “Whatever he’s been blabbing, it’s all lies.”

  “And your teen years, well, lover boy, your reputation isn’t just fable, is it?”

  Rather than make excuses, Marty simply shrugged and smiled back at her. “You got any complaints with my experience?’

  “There’s no shaming you, is there?”

  “Hell no. I enjoyed every bit of my teen years.”

  “Your adult years weren’t exactly celibate either, Mr Lawson.”

  “What can I say? I’m a red-blooded man.” He said it with supreme satisfaction.

  Yes. Yes he was, and for a split second Belle wondered how a red-blooded, hot man like him could ever be content with her forever.

  If there was a forever.

  Immediately Marty sobered, coming forward to cup her cheeks in his big hands. Leaning down, he studied her. “You’re thinking too hard again.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Tell me.” When she lowered her lashes, he ordered softly. “Tell me.”

  Not really wanting to, she replied reluctantly, “Just wondering if a man like you could ever really be content with a woman like me.”

  His thumbs brushed her cheeks. “I came back, didn’t I?”

  Wishing she hadn’t said anything, she sought to lighten the mood. “You left Alan and Sugar here, you had to come back.”

  “He can’t do without me.” Sauntering into the kitchen, Alan looked around. “Where are the plates?”

  Glad to escape Marty’s searching gaze, Belle crossed to the kitchen counter. “Under here. Sorry, Alan, we got a little caught up.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Sarcasm from you, how surprising.”

  “Just telling it like it is.” Retrieving three plates, Alan trod back towards the lounge room. “Kids, the movie starts in five minutes. If you’re not in there I’m going to start eating out of the cartons. With my fingers.”

  Laughing, Belle took the cutlery from the drawers and followed. As she passed Marty, she half expected him to try and get an explanation from her but instead he simply followed.

  Alan was sitting in the middle of the big sofa with a can of Coke in one hand. Marty looked at him but Alan simply blinked innocently.

  “Move over,” Marty ordered.

  “But if I sit between you and Belle, then you can both cuddle m
e.” Alan spread his arms. “Share the love and all that shit.”

  “The day I cuddle you-”

  “Sit right here, hot lips.” Alan patted the sofa cushion beside him.

  Marty simply reached out, grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the sofa.

  “Show-off,” said Alan, not the least perturbed as he hung from Marty’s impressive hold. “Just because you spend the time that Belle’s working pumping iron in the gym, you think you’re so strong.”

  “I don’t think it.” Marty dumped him unceremoniously onto the end of the sofa. “I know it.”

  “Bully.” Alan looked at Belle. “You’re going to let him treat me, one of your good friends, like this?”

  “Good friends?” Marty sat down beside Alan, catching Belle’s hand and pulling her down on the only vacant spot left on the sofa, which was on his other side. “Just how close did you two get while I was gone for only two days?”

  “Amazing how you can bond when one of you is painting her toe nails while the other is watching the American Beauty Pageant on TV.”

  “You let him watch the Beauty Pageant?” Marty shook his head at Belle. “You’re lucky he didn’t start humping the furniture.”

  “He was very well behaved,” Belle replied.

  “So you didn’t have to smack him with a rolled up newspaper?”

  “He even put the toilet seat down.”

  “He is rather well trained. I have tried.”

  “Hey.” Alan jabbed him in the side. “The movie’s about to start. Someone dish me up chips.”

  “Cripes,” said Marty. “Who am I, your mother?”

  “Here.” Belle tipped some hot chips onto a plate, loaded it up with chicken and a slice of pizza, and handed it across Marty to Alan.

  “Thanks, Mum.” Alan took it and simpered.

  Marty turned to Belle. “Bet you wish now you’d never allowed him such free rein while I was gone.”

  “I told him his father would sort him out when he came home,” Belle answered seriously. “Alan’s all yours now.”

  “Thanks.”

  She patted his cheek. “My pleasure.”

  The movie credits rolled and they settled back to eat and watch. Once the food was gone, Belle curled up in her corner of the sofa and leaned her head against Marty’s shoulder, happily content to have his arm around her and his cheek resting atop her head. From Marty’s other side, Alan was avidly watching the action movie and still snacking on chocolate while commenting on the stupidity of the characters. Sugar was sprawled across Marty’s feet while Cleo was lying behind Belle’s head on the back of the sofa.

  It was the kind of happy moment that Belle loved and never thought she’d ever participate in, not with a man who cradled her beneath his arm as though she was delicate.

  By the time the movie ended, it was late. They cleaned up the dishes and Alan left after giving Belle a quick hug. Then it was just Belle and Marty.

  The perfect ending to a perfect evening, Belle thought as she entered Marty’s waiting arms.

  Cuddled up against Marty, Belle drifted deliciously on the aftermath of a stormy lovemaking session. The wind outside was cool, drifting through the curtains into the darkened room. She could hear Sugar snuffling to herself on the floor somewhere and Cleo jumped onto the bed and settled near her feet. Everything she could wish for was right here in the room with her, and she’d never been so contented in her life.

  “Belle?” Marty’s voice was low in the darkness.

  “Mmm?” She snuggled closer.

  “I have to go back to the city.”

  All Belle’s contentment fled. Biting her lip, she opened her eyes. It was time.

  “Honey?” Marty shifted slightly.

  “Yes.” Heart dropping, she pressed her hand flat against his chest. I don’t want you to go.

  “I’ll be back.”

  She swallowed. “When do you go?”

  “I have a flight booked for the day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” There was a stupid lump in her throat. Of course he had to go back to the city, he had a job, a house, family. A life.

  It was just that she so wanted him in her life, and she was so afraid, so very afraid…

  The bedside lamp snapped on and she blinked at the soft light.

  Rolling onto his side, Marty settled on his side with his bottom hand behind his head, his top hand reaching out to stroke along her arm. He watched her, those brilliant blue eyes studying her with the intensity she’d come to know so well. It was like he was reading her mind.

  She tried to smile past the stupid lump in her throat. “I guess life calls to us all, hey?”

  “You’re upset.” His fingers trailed down her upper arm.

  “No. I just…” When he simply waited patiently, she said softly, “I knew you had to go back sometime. You’re a busy man.”

  Still he continued to wait, all the time his fingers slowly trailing up and down her arm, eliciting little paths of delight.

  Facing him, she hugged the sheet to her with her arm while she drank her fill of his face, wondering if this was it, the parting of ways, would it be final, what if…So many what ifs. Too many.

  The long fingers slid down to close over her hand holding the sheet and he opened her fingers, entwining them with his. She couldn’t stop the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes, the feeling of fear and loneliness that swept through her.

  “I’ll be back, Belle,” he promised, his voice a warm, dark whisper that sought to soothe her. “Don’t doubt it. Don’t doubt me.”

  She wanted to say she didn’t, wanted to reassure him, but all she could do was hold back a sob as a tear spilled over.

  She felt so stupid, so bloody stupid. He’d never done anything to make her doubt him, but her own insecurities probed at her feelings, prising apart the warmth to curl sharp needles of uncertainty into her.

  Without saying another word, Marty wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close.

  Miserable, she could only press against him and let the tears fall. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Silently he kissed her forehead and rested his cheek atop her head. She fell asleep in his arms.

  ~*~

  Six Months Later

  The meeting was intense, the air thick with tension as high-powered stakes were offered and bargained for, argued about, and finally papers were signed and it was over. A takeover worth millions had been done inside a luxurious office.

  Leaning back in the chair, Marty watched the executives leave while immense satisfaction filled him. Yeah, he thrived in these meetings, matching wits with those as clever and sharp as he and coming out winning.

  Reaching out, he took the bundle of papers in his hands and tapped them on the desk before handing them to his secretary. Once she’d left and he was alone in the office, he swivelled the chair to gaze out through the tinted windows at the early evening.

  Yeah, he loved his life. There was only one other thing that would make it perfect, and that was to have the woman living halfway across the state here in this city, in his home. The woman he could go home to every night after work, to take her in his arms and hug, love, share his day and hers, to be a part of her life and her a part of part of his. The main part. The best part.

  But there was something wrong, something he couldn’t place his finger on. Lately when he spoke to her on the phone... A little tendril of fear snaked through Marty, a feeling he’d never had before about a woman - uncertainty.

  The door opened and he glanced over his shoulder to see his father enter.

  “Good job.” Mr Lawson strolled across the floor and took the chair on the other side of the desk.

  “Thanks.” Relieved to have his thoughts diverted for a brief time, Marty swung his chair back around, rubbing his hands. “Nothing like a takeover to make one hungry for more.”

  Mr Lawson laughed. “A chip off the old block.”

  “Yep.” Marty crossed to the little ‘fridge in the corn
er of his office. “Apple juice?”

  “Not for me, thanks.” Reaching out, Mr Lawson picked up the framed photo sitting beside Marty’s computer and studied the sweetly smiling face. “How’s Belle these days?”

  “She’s doing fine.” Marty sat back down and twisted the bottle open, flicking the cap into the bin. “She told me on the phone the other day that she’s having holidays soon. I’m hoping she’ll come here.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Hell yes. She’s thinking about it.”

  “Ah.” Mr Lawson replaced the photo frame back on the desk. “You saw her last week, didn’t you?”

  “I spent the weekend with her.” Marty took a sip of juice and frowned.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Marty sighed. “It was great, it’s always great, but…”

  “But?”

  “I don’t know. There’s something…” He put the bottle down on the desk with a little more force than necessary. “Damn it, Dad, I think there’s something going on.”

  Mr Lawson’s eyebrow rose.

  “I mean, it was great and all, but when I mentioned her coming down here for a holiday, Belle, well, she sort of kept avoiding the subject.” Marty ran one hand through his hair, his worries coming to the fore. “Dad, what if she doesn’t want to come here?”

  “You can always live in her town,” Mr Lawson suggested. “Computers and mobile phones, and don’t forget the planes make commuting here for meetings easy, son.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Restless, Marty pushed to his feet and moved across to the window, thrusting his hands in his pockets as he stared moodily out at the darkening evening sky.

  Mr Lawson waited in silence, a technique Marty had learned from him.

  “She’s not like other women, Dad.”

  “She is a lovely girl.”

  “I can’t imagine life without her.”

  “Have you told her that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “She said the same thing.”

  “Have you asked her to marry you?”