The Lawson Boys: Marty (22 page)

Holly stared at
her. “I have a feeling I’m missing out on some details.”

“No, that’s
about it.” Every hot memory was her own.

“Okay, I can
see this is going to be like a pioneering mining expedition. One
pick at a time.” Holly tapped the card. “Did he seduce you against
your will?”

“No.”
No
way
.

“So he’s a good
kisser?”

The
best
. “Yes.”

“Good sex?”

Hotter than
Hell
. “I guess so.”

Holly shook her
head. “Oh no, sister. Not ‘I guess’. That’s not allowed. Yes or
no?”

“Okay, it was
hot. Not that it’s any of your business.” Belle flushed.

Holly smirked.
“Hotter than Trevor?”

“Yes.” Way
hotter. Way better. In fact, sex with Trevor failed dismally in
comparison with the rocked-her-world sex she’d had with Marty.

“Orchid
hot?”

Frowning, Belle
looked at the flowers. “I don’t know what he’s playing at.”

Holly also
looked at the orchids. “I can tell you that he’s not finished with
you yet.”

“Funny, that’s
what he said.” At Holly’s raised brow, Belle added, “In different
words.”

“Oh?”

Belle took a
sip of Diet Coke. “He said he’d be back.”

“When?”

“Yesterday,
right before he left.”

“No, I meant
when did he say he’d be back?”

The door bell
rang and they looked at each other.

“No way,” Holly
said.

Belle’s palms
started sweating as her heart leaped in her chest. “It couldn’t
be.”

“Hey, he said
he’d be back.” When Belle didn’t get out of the chair, Holly
started to stand up. “I have to meet him. I’ll get the door.”

“No!” When
Holly shrugged and started to sit down, Belle half got up then
stalled. “Yes.” She grimaced. “No.”

Holly rolled
her eyes. “I’ll get it.”

“No. No, I’ll
get it.” Throwing back her shoulders, Belle added, “I’m an adult. I
can do this.”

“Go get him,
tiger.”

Belle sent her
a scowl before leaving the kitchen. At the front door she
hesitated, hearing the doorbell peal again. Wiping her palms on her
pants, she took a deep breath and reached for the door knob.
Cripes, she was an adult, not a giggly little teenager! Marty was
only a man, just a simple bloke, that was all. Nothing to get
uptight about.

So she couldn’t
explain the disappointment she felt when she opened the door to
find her parents standing on the veranda.

“Took your
sweet time, Pumpkin.” Her father ruffled her hair as he passed her
into the house. “Hey, Holly! Saw your motorbike outside. Is it
still drinking oil?”

“Hey, Mr B,”
Holly replied cheerfully from the kitchen. “Lou got it fixed; he’s
a whiz with bikes.”

Mrs Broune
touched Belle’s cheek. “Everything okay, sweetie? You look a little
flushed.”

You have no
idea
. Belle smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, Mum.” Gesturing her
inwards, she added, “What brings you and Dad here?”

Her mother held
up two bags of takeaway. “Lunch. Have you eaten?”

“Yum, and
no.”

Entering the
kitchen, Mrs Broune jiggled the bag at Holly. “Plenty here for
extras. Howard over-bought as usual. Hungry, sweetie?”

“For Chinese?
Anytime, Mrs B, and thank you.”

As Belle’s
parents busied themselves getting plates and setting the table,
Holly jerked her head at the orchids and the card. Belle just had
time to slip the card into her pocket before her mother spotted the
orchids.

“Oh Belle, how
gorgeous. Where did they come from?” Placing the plates on the
table, she leaned forward to sniff them. “You know, your father
courted me with orchids.”

Holly crossed
her eyes behind Mrs Broune’s back.

“Did he?” Belle
asked a little weakly. Geez, surely Marty wasn’t trying to court
her? No way.

“Oh yeah.” Mr
Broune leered. “I swept her off her feet. She never knew what hit
her.”

Mrs Broune’s
eyes twinkled. “Oh, I knew, all right, I was just playing hard to
get.”

“I snapped my
fingers,” Mr Broune continued, “And she came running. All over me,
she was.”

Mrs Broune
shook her head. “It was the other way around, if I remember
correctly.”

Cleo came
around the corner of the doorway, her pink nose twitching as she
smelled the food. Mrs Broune picked her up, cooing, and Cleo
started purring but continued to eyeball the containers of food
that were going onto the table.

“Here.” Mr
Broune fished in his pants pocket and came out with a little tin.
“I’ve got you sorted, cat.”

Cleo took one
look at the tin and started wriggling in Mrs Broune’s arms. With a
sigh, she put her down. “I don’t know why I bother holding her when
your father comes. That cat just knows he always has something for
her.”

Laughing, Belle
watched as her father opened the tin of salmon and tipped it into
Cleo’s bowl. It was ritual repeated almost every time he came to
the house.

“Just doing it
so she doesn’t bother us.” Mr Broune tossed the empty tin into the
bin. “Damned cat.”

Tough talk for
a man who bought the damned cat a Christmas present every year.

Holly placed
the vase of orchids on the kitchen bench and they all sat down. No
sooner had they started dishing up than again the doorbell
rang.

“I’ll get it.”
Mrs Broune, ever the mother, gestured to the containers. “It’ll get
cold.”

Belle was
contemplating a dish of noodles when voices sounded. She froze at
the deep tones.
Surely not?
She looked up and across the
room, right into the brilliant blue eyes of Marty Lawson as he
followed her mother into the kitchen.

“It’s Diana’s
boy!” Mrs Broune beamed with pleasure. “He’s come for lunch.”

“He has?” Holly
glanced meaningfully at Belle.

Mouth hanging
open in surprise, Belle stared at him.

Marty held up a
bag with the same Chinese takeaway logo on it. “Room for more?”

“Absolutely,”
Mrs Broune replied.

Getting to his
feet, Mr Broune held out his hand as Marty approached. “I’m Belle’s
father, Howard.”

“Mr Broune.”
Smiling, Marty shook his hand.

“Howard,
please.”

“My parents
always brought me up to respect my elders, Mr Broune, especially if
they were close to my family.”

Belle couldn’t
believe it. Marty Lawson was in her kitchen, charming her parents,
oozing good ol’ boy charisma, and making her blood heat just by
looking at him in his jeans and t-shirt and remembering how hard
and strong his body was above her…behind her…pushing into her-

A kick to her
shins had her wincing.

“Get a grip,”
Holly whispered.

Shaking her
head, she pushed her shock - and lustful thoughts - aside and rose
to her feet.

Marty, already
coming around the table, stunned her by brushing a kiss across her
cheek before taking one of the spare chairs Mr Broune handed to him
and neatly placing it beside Belle’s, politely forcing Holly to
shuffle around next to Mrs Broune.

Her parents
hadn’t missed the kiss he’d given her, and she knew that though too
polite to ask about that now, she’d be getting a grilling later,
mostly from her mother.

Great, just
great. She sank back onto the chair.

Placing the bag
on the table, Marty sat down. “I’ve brought quite a bit, so there’s
plenty for all.”

“Big appetite?”
Belle couldn’t help but ask, glancing sideways at him.

“As you know,”
he returned, facing her fully and grinning.

To anyone else
that grin appeared friendly, but going by that gleam in his eyes
that was just for her alone, it was more…predatory.

Belle blushed.
Again. And damn it, that blush hadn’t escaped her mother’s notice.
The grilling to come was getting hotter.

“We had dinner
in the city,” Belle rushed to inform her mother.

“But she has
yet to see exactly what I can eat and how much,” Marty informed
them, but the way he cut his eyes to her with a very lustful glint
in them made her almost squirm in her chair.

Surely he
couldn’t possibly mean…?
Catching sight of Holly giving herself
a discreet little face fanning, Belle swallowed. Oh cripes, he did
mean something a lot more carnal than
food
eating.

Looking away,
she forked noodles onto her plate before replacing the container on
the table.

“Here.” Taking
the bag from Marty, Mrs Broune put the containers on the table and
hurried to get him a plate and cutlery.

“Thank you, Mrs
Broune.” Taking the plate, he smiled warmly at her mother.

Utterly
charmed, her mother got him a cold Diet Coke and even popped the
tab before placing it on the table before him along with a
glass.

Turning to Mr
Broune, who was watching closely, Marty said, “I couldn’t help but
notice that you drive a Subaru. That model isn’t made anymore,
which is such a shame. It was one of the best around.”

Oh great, he
just had to touch on her car-mad father’s favourite hobby. Way to
win him over.

Almost
brooding, Belle bit into a piece of honeyed chicken. When she
glanced up, Holly’s eyes were laughing. Traitor.

Listening to
the conversation, Belle had to admit that Marty had a winning way.
He managed to draw her not-so-car-mad mother into the conversation
of cars and had a lively debate going on within minutes. A few
words thrown at Holly and motorbikes entered the conversation.

Silently Belle
continued to eat, listening with half an ear and wondering what the
hell Marty was planning, because if he thought for one second that
winning over her parents would make Belle willing to throw herself
under him again, he had another think coming.

Just the
thought of being under him again…
oh boy
. Her blood warmed.
Because he was sitting right beside her, she couldn’t help but
notice how expressive he was with his hands. Those big hands with
long, dexterous fingers, that gestured with such masculine grace.
The t-shirt fitted him snugly, outlining the heavy muscles of his
chest, and even though she refused to look directly at it, out of
the corner of her vision she couldn’t help but notice the muscles
in his arms bunching as he moved them. Bunching impressively.

So strong,
holding her so easily, positioning her to his satisfaction,
ensuring she had satisfaction in return, controlling her as he
pushed her higher…

Now she was the
one fanning herself, albeit mentally.

“That’s a
wonderful idea. Isn’t it, Belle? Belle?”

Registering
finally that her mother was speaking to her, Belle looked up. “I
beg your pardon?”

“Isn’t it a
wonderful idea?”

Belle looked
blankly at her.

“Sweetie,” her
mother said patiently, “haven’t you been listening to
anything?”

“No,” she
replied truthfully.
I was too busy thinking lustful
thoughts.

A hard knee
nudged against her thigh and she jumped.

“Sorry,” Marty
said innocently when she turned to glare at him. “Didn’t mean to
bump you.”

Right. His face
was all politeness, but his eyes sparkled with a definitely
naughty-boy gleam.

“No worries.”
She nudged him back a little more forcefully and the gleam in his
eyes grew hotter.

Oops.
Flustered, she switched her attention to her mother. “What did I
miss?”

“Marty was just
saying how he was going to ask you to show him the sights while
he’s here.”

So that was his
plan. “There’s not much to see.”

Now her mother
looked a little pained. “He did show you some of the city.’

Sure, like the
pub where her photo was taken. But knowing that her mother was now
feeling a little embarrassed by Belle’s less than enthusiastic
response, and no way could she hurt her mother, Belle turned to
Marty and smiled, but only with her mouth. “But even so, I’ll show
you what there is.”

“Delightful.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you think I’ve seen the best
yet?”

She ignored the
double meaning. “I only have this afternoon and tomorrow, though. I
start work on Monday.”

“I’ll take what
I can get.” The twinkle in his eyes was somehow - how the hell
could a twinkle be
dirty
? “I’m sure we can fit a lot
in.”

Holy cow.

“I’ll make sure
of it,” he added, and before she could think of a cutting retort
that wouldn’t alert her parents to something going on - and there
was no way on God’s green earth that
anything
was going on
between her and the Lawson boy - he switched his attention to
Holly. “So, do you have a car as well or is the motorbike your only
pride and joy?”

Within seconds
the chatter was on again between everyone at the table, except
Belle, who was engaged in trying to unobtrusively shift her legs
because a hard thigh was now brushing against hers.

She nearly
jumped out of her seat when he suddenly rested his arm along the
back of her chair and leaned towards her, looking her directly in
the eyes as he asked, “Ride with me?”

Ride with him?
She swallowed. He’d already ridden her, twice, and…His sudden
knowing grin made her want to bloody well slap it right off his
handsome face.

He gave her a
wink, hiding it from her parents by reaching up and pushing back
the hank of thick blonde hair that would insist on falling over his
brow. “Or we can take your car.”

Of course he’d
been talking about cars.
Riding
in cars. Oh, how she wished
she could just fall in a hole right now and pull it down on top of
herself. But refusing to relinquish her calm façade, she smiled.
“My car.”

“Ah, a woman
who likes to be in control.” Marty grinned at her father. “Isn’t
that always the way?”