The Lawson Boys: Marty (34 page)

Mr Lawson
answered immediately. “We have a situation, son.”

“No
kidding.”

“Belle’s here,
you’re there, I’m confused.”

Marty couldn’t
help but give a tired laugh. “I’m reading you.”

“Glad someone
is.”

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to
Belle?”

“Sure. Hang
on.”

There was the
sound of a party in the background, a murmur of voices, and then
Belle’s voice came over the phone. Immediately he relaxed as her
warm tones, tinged with amusement, sounded so welcomingly in his
ear. “Hey.”

“Hey
yourself.”

“Looks like we
surprised each other.”

“Great minds
think alike?”

“More possibly
it’s that we shouldn’t keep secrets.”

“Nah. Where’s
the fun in that?” He leaned back against the veranda post. “I
talked to Holly.”

“Ah.”

“Belle…” What
could he say? That he didn’t need her to do this? That it had been
unnecessary because he only wanted her to be happy? If he did that,
it would make her feel as though she’d failed, as though she’d
wasted her time. In one way it was the truth, it hadn’t been
important to him, but at the same time her thoughts had been of
him, of his importance to her. She’d done it for him and for that
fact alone it was important to him that she knew how much it meant
to him. Not the stupid dancing and dining, but her actions, her
thoughts.

“Marty?” Belle
hesitated uncertainly. “I’m sorry. I should have told you I was
coming. I should have-”

His heart
swelled. “Belle, I love you.”

“Really?” She
was relieved. “I’m glad you’re not upset.”

“No, I mean I
love
you.” He looked up at the stars pricking lights
into the darkness of space. “I love you, Belle Broune. I want you
to marry me. I want you to be by my side forever. I want you to
dine and dance with me, cuddle my dog, settle your cat into my
house, laugh with me, fill my rooms with your books, be there to
welcome me home, to listen to me, to tell me about your day and
share everything with me. I want you home with me.” When all she
did was breath a little jerkily into the phone, he stated softly,
“I want to be a part of your life, Belle. I want you and me to
be
us
. I love
you, Belle. Marry me. Please.”

“Really?”
Belle’s voice wobbled.

“Yes.”

“I love you,
too, Marty.”

“I know.” She
gave a burst of laughter even as he slapped his forehead. “Damn,”
he said. “Ego trip.”

“Big one.” Her
voice grew lower, huskier. “I really do love you, Marty. I realised
that awhile ago, I just wasn’t sure that I could fit into your
world.”

“You are my
world, Belle. You don’t have to fit into anything. You’re perfect
as you are.” His heart was so full he felt like it would burst.
“Marry me?”

“Yes. Oh
yes.”

“I’ve got a
ring here and everything.” He felt the little box in his jacket
pocket.

“Oh,
Marty.”

“Yeah. It’s
really pretty, too.”

“I know it is,
even if I can’t see it.”

“Sucks I can’t
put it on your finger now.” He watched the taxi pull into the
driveway. “I can’t believe me, suave Marty Lawson, is proposing to
his one true love while he’s sitting on her doorstep, locked out,
and she’s half a state away at the dinner he’s supposed to be at as
well.”

“Life has a
way of taking egomaniacs down a peg or two.”

Laughing, he
got to his feet. “Honey, you are so going to pay for that when I
get home.”

“When will you
get here? Tonight?”

“I wish.”
Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he walked towards the waiting
taxi. “Tomorrow.”

“I’ll be
waiting for you.”

The taxi
driver took his suitcase while Marty slid into the back seat.
Curiously he looked at her darkened house. “Where’s Cleo, anyway?
Your parents?”

“I brought her
with me. Last I saw, she was curled up on your pillow.”

“Great,
everyone’s home but me.”

“I’ll be
waiting for you.”

Warmth slid
through him. That was so damned perfect. Who said dreams didn’t
come true?

~*~

England

Honeymoon

Exploring the
ancient castles and old graveyards was awesome, but not as awesome
as doing it with the man she loved.

Belle smiled up
at Marty as he stood close beside her, one arm around her waist as
he studied the suit of armour, the tourist information pamphlet in
his other hand.

“Looks damned
uncomfortable,” her sophisticated husband finally said. “Imagine
wearing that in winter? Freeze the balls off a brass monkey.”

“I don’t think
the armour went anywhere near the - er - aforementioned
unmentionables.”

Marty quirked a
brow in amusement. “Come on, honey, you can say the ‘b’ word.”

“It’s not that,
it’s just I don’t think these hallowed halls ever heard much of
that kind of language.”

“Are you
kidding me? My understanding is that way back in time the servants
used to all sleep in a main hall and shag each other there and
everything. Saying ‘balls’ after the kind of activity these walls
have witnessed over the centuries is kind of tame.”

“You’d know
about that kind of debauchery wouldn’t you?”

Marty
leered.

Belle rolled
her eyes, then shrieked when he heartily smacked her bottom and
proclaimed loudly and lustily, “Avast, me wee wenchie! Let’s find
the main bedchamber and have a tumble!”

“Good grief!”
Blushing at the amused and not-so-amused glances cast their way by
the other tourists and guides, Belle tried to smother her mortified
amusement and elbowed him in the side. “Behave yourself. Oh, and
get control of your characters. That was part Scottish, part
pirate, and part something else.”

“Lusty
barbarian?” He waggled his eyebrows. “How about we blow this joint
and head back to the hotel?”

“No. I want to
sight-see.”

“So do I, but
in a more earthy fashion.” His gaze was both wicked and hot as he
swept his gaze down her body. “If you know what I mean.”

“I know what
you mean. What if I say no again?”

“Fine. But
you’ll owe me.”

“Oh
really?”

“Yeah. I expect
to be compensated for walking around with a boner.”

Lowering her
eyelashes, she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.
“Okay.”

He took one
look at her actions and groaned. “You so owe me.” Pulling her hard
against him, he kissed her so long and hot that when he finally
lifted his mouth from hers, she was gasping for breath and thinking
about heading back to the hotel after all.

“Maybe I’ve
changed my mind,” she said unsteadily.

Taking her hand, he grinned widely and towed her along the
richly decorated hallway. “Nope. Your choice, honey. We’re
sight-seeing and I’m going to suffer and you are going to relieve
that suffering back at the hotel. You owe me
big
.”

Suspiciously,
she looked up at him. “Hmmm. You’re up to something.”

“Me? Never. You
just owe me.”

“You keep
saying that. What, exactly, do you expect me to do to pay you back
for this noble suffering?”

His smile was
slow, wicked and oh, so carnal. “Oh, honey, what you did last night
with your mouth…get the idea?”

Pleased, shy
and embarrassed all at once, Belle flushed. “I was just
experimenting. You said to do whatever I wanted, so I did.” She
glanced away then back up at him. “You really liked it?”

His eyes grew
even hotter. “Oh, yeah. Oh God, yeah.” His hand around hers
tightened just a fraction. “Did you?”

Remembering
very well his groans and moans, the way he’d come apart beneath her
hands and mouth, the sensuality in not only giving him pleasure but
watching him being swept away in a tide of passion, the desire she
felt for him was almost overwhelming. “You have no idea.”

Marty glanced
around quickly before yanking her into a small alcove. In a hard,
fast move he caught her face between his hands and kissed her,
dragging her up against him, his kiss ravenous, devouring, and she
drowned in his scent, his essence, his mastery and pure,
unconditional love. When he finally let her come up for air, they
were both breathing fast. The sexual heat between them was almost
palpable.

And someone was
coughing behind them.

Belle peeked
around Marty to find one of the castle guides frowning at them in
displeasure.

“Excuse me,
Miss, Sir,” the man said. “I’m afraid this castle is for exploring,
not for clandestine affairs.”

“Sorry.”
Smiling congenially, Marty grabbed Belle’s hand with the sparkling
engagement and wedding rings on her finger, and waved it at the
guide. “Honeymoon.”

The man didn’t
look appeased.

“She jumps me
every chance she gets,” Marty added.

Belle smacked
his arm.

“Likes it
rough, as you can see.” Turning back to her, eyes gleaming
wickedly, Marty said, “Don’t hit me until we’re back at the hotel,
honey, you know I’m a screamer. Now try to keep your hands to
yourself, okay? I just want to look around first, then you can
ravish me.”

Belle blew out
a breath of combined laughter and exasperation. There was just no
controlling the man or his sense of humour, however perverted and
teasing. Just another of the things she loved about him.

Entwining her
fingers in his, Marty tucked both their hands into his thick coat
pocket and led her from the alcove past the guide.

“You owe me
big,” Belle muttered.

Marty leered. “Well, I do know what you like me to do
with
my
mouth.”

She blushed.
Laughing, he kissed the top of her head.

That night
when they returned to their room after dinner, Belle picked up the
large envelope lying on the little table in the corner. “I wonder
who it’s from?”

“Open it and
find out.” Marty came up behind her.

Opening the
flap, she withdrew two pieces of fax paper. One had Alan’s scrawl
on it and the other was a copy from a newspaper.

Sliding his arms around her waist, Marty leaned his chin on
her shoulder. “That’s from Alan.
‘Thought
you might like to see the latest gossip. Hope you’re having a great
time. Don’t forget to bring me a present.’
Straight to the point as ever.” He laughed.

Belle held up
the faxed copy of the newspaper article. It was the photo taken at
their wedding and it had made the society section of the newspaper.
In the photo they were exiting the church, she was looking up at
Marty, he was looking down at her, and while she was obviously
blushing and laughing, he looked...well, downright wicked, but
there was no mistaking the love on their faces. She remembered very
well that he’d just whispered something downright deviant he wanted
to do to her and it had calmed her nerves. It hadn’t calmed her
libido, but he’d taken care of that as soon as they were alone. In
the coatroom of the fancy restaurant they were having the reception
in, actually.

Even the memory
was enough to make her blood heat a little.

Marty read the caption beneath the photo.
“
‘Martin Lawson marries Belle Broune.
Finally, he’s made an honest woman of her. Or has she made an
honest man of him? Whichever the case, The Other Woman and the
Most-Sought-After-Bachelor of the Decade are both off the market.
Here’s wishing them many happy years of
marriage!’
”

“Wow,” said
Belle. “I don’t know what to say. Should I be insulted or
honoured?”

“I’d take
honoured, it’s more dignified.”

“Okay.”

“Speaking of
not knowing what to say, you didn’t know how to respond when
Melissa phoned you the night before our wedding to thank you for
saving her from, as she put it so eloquently, years of wedded
nightmare with a cheating bastard.”

“I can’t
believe that after everything that happened she wished us
happiness.”

“Hey, you can
never tell how a woman thinks.”

“Still sore
that Marcia sent you a cactus for a wedding present?”

“I think she’s
holding a grudge.”

“Very
possibly.” Belle still found the unspoken message of the prickly
present amusing.

Marty
laughed.

“It was lovely
of Alan to send us this.” Belle looked at the photo again.

“You were so
beautiful.” Marty kissed her ear.

“And you were
so handsome.’

“Yes. Yes, I
was.” He squeezed her waist. “Still am, in fact.”

“That is why I
keep you around.”

“I keep you
around for my sex toy.”

“So we’re both
happy.”

“Stuck with
each other.”

Turning her
head, she looked at him, the love she felt for him so strong it
almost took her breath away. “Forever.”

He smiled, his
eyes warm with answering love, his hold protective as he cradled
her back against him. “Forever.”

#######

BIO

Angela
Verdenius lives in Australia, where she is ruled by her cats,
adores reading, and thinks a perfect day is writing and drinking
Diet Coke, followed by reading or a good horror movie.

To date, she
has written numerous novels in sci-fi romance and BBW contemporary
romance, 2 novellas, and several short stories, one of which is a
zombie story she had great fun writing. Her books have won many
reviewers’ awards, as well as having been on the Fictionwise
best-seller list and winning the Golden Rose Award.

Visit her
website at
http://www.angelaverdenius.com/