The Lawson Boys: Marty (32 page)

“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 me.” 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 corner 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?”

“No. Not yet.”
Marty watched a taxi winding its way through the evening traffic.
“I wanted to give her some time.”

“Oh? That’s not
like you,” Mr Lawson observed. “You know what you want and you go
for it.”

“Belle’s not a
billion dollar deal, a mansion, a car. A pretty date.”

“She’s
special.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the
problem?”

Reaching out,
Marty rubbed at a smudge on the window, succeeding only in making
it worse. Giving up, he shoved his hand back into his pocket.
“Remember that party I took her to the last time she came here, the
one at the Havens?”

“She looked
beautiful.”

“She was
mortified that she didn’t know the proper way to dance. Hell, like
I could care, we had fun.”

“You were both
laughing.” There was a smile in his father’s voice. “Reminded me of
your mother and me when we were young and attending our first high
society party. We stumbled around like a couple of crazy buffoons,
gave up, went outside and made love in the gardens instead.’

Marty winced.
“Yeah, thanks Dad. Didn’t actually need that last bit, you
know?”

“Sorry. I
forgot parents don’t have sex.” Mr Lawson paused. “So I won’t
mention last night. Or this morning.”

“Not cool,
Dad.” A reluctant grin twitched at Marty’s lips.

“Sorry.” Mr
Lawson laughed before sobering. “About Belle?”

“Belle.” Marty
looked at the lights in the offices across the road. A cleaner was
already at work, his cart of cleaning supplies visible. “After the
party we ended up at Cindy and Tim’s place, and the girls were
talking while Tim and I played pool in the games room.”