The Lawson Boys: Marty (2 page)

Marty was
certain it was no mistake, though what Trevor had been doing with a
plus-sized woman was beyond him. Trevor liked his women model thin,
not full-bodied. Definitely not cool, either, taking a woman’s
virginity, playing with her emotions and then blithely going off to
marry his fiancée. But then again, that was Trevor for you. The man
never did anything by halves.

The best man
rallied admirably, stepping forward to tell everyone to please
excuse them while they went into the little vestry and tried to
sort out what was happening.

As soon as the
groom, bride, their parents and the minister disappeared, the
whispers broke out as the happenings were rehashed and theories
brought forth. Unfortunately for Trevor, those theories weighed
pretty heavily on Belle’s side. Unfortunately for Belle, she’d
crashed the wedding of a high-profile family and within minutes she
was branded ‘The Other Woman’.

A few of the
more unabashed guests were already dialling their mobile phones and
word was getting out. This was the juiciest gossip to happen in
awhile. Marty grinned a little.

“What do you
find so amusing?” Marcia poked him in the side.

“Trevor just
stirred a hornet’s nest.”

“Trevor is a
friend of yours. Shouldn’t you be feeling sorry for him?”

“Sorry for
Trevor?” Marty laughed.

“What do you
know that I don’t?”

“I’ve known him
a long time, let’s just leave it at that.” Chuckling, Marty caught
the disapproving eye of the matron on the other side of Marci, and
he couldn’t resist winking at her.

With a huff,
the elderly lady turned to her companion.

“I wonder
what’s going to happen now?” Marcia mused.

“Not much in
the way of a wedding,” Marty predicted.

He was proven
correct when the father of the groom re-entered the church. After
gravely apologising for the fiasco, he stiffly requested their
understanding in that the wedding was postponed until circumstances
were investigated and thanked them all for their attendance.

Leaving the
church, Marty slung his arm around Marcia and bent down to nuzzle
her silky hair. “Mmmmm. No reception and I’m hungry.”

“How can you be
hungry after what happened?” She giggled as he blew softly into her
ear.

“I’m a man with
a plan for the evening ahead. I need to keep my strength up.”

“I’d have
thought The Other Woman appearing would make you leery.” She
fluttered her false eyelashes at him.

“I’m not about
to get married.” His hand slid down to her taut bottom and
squeezed.

“But you might
one day, and then what?”

“The wedding
giving you ideas?”
God forbid
.

Marcia
shuddered a little. “Not this wedding. Giving me the heebie-jeebies
more like it.”

Unlocking the
door to his low-slung sports car, Marty grinned. “We’re on the same
wave length, baby.” As she settled herself into the seat, he
glanced at the church and sighed a little. As much as he wanted to
continue with his original plans, he had a feeling he was going to
be needed very soon. Bending down, he said quietly, “I’m afraid I’m
going to have to take you home and leave.”

She glanced at
the church. “Let me guess. Trevor?”

“Yeah.”

“You think
he’ll ring you?”

“We’re not best
buds, but we are friends. Yeah, I reckon he will.”

She sighed.
“Fine.”

Marty didn’t
miss the way her fingers played over her mobile phone. Yep, Marcia
might be regretting not being able to have sex with him, but her
urge to share the wedding fiasco news was certainly going a long
way to vanquishing her disappointment. He just bet that she’d be
meeting her friends before her house door was closed behind
her.

In fact, she
was already making plans to meet her girlfriends before they’d even
gotten near her home. She had him drop her off at a favourite
restaurant and left him with a quick, almost absent-minded kiss to
the cheek before rushing inside to meet one of her friends who was
already waiting in a window seat.

Well, that made
him feel missed. Not.

Shaking his
head, Marty headed for home to change. His mobile peeled merrily as
he drew up in front of his double-storied house. Turning off the
engine, he answered. “Yep?”

“Marty?” It was
his mother.

“Who else would
be answering my phone?”

Ignoring his
reply, she went straight to the topic. “Is it true?”

“You mean about
Trevor’s indiscretion turning up at the church and the whole thing
erupting into hysteria because of The Other Woman and now Trevor is
in disgrace and it’s a huge scandal?”

“So it is
true!”

“Maybe.”
Grinning, he got out of the car and set the alarm.

“Why didn’t you
ring me?”

“Because I knew
you weren’t one for gossip.” Climbing the two steps to the front
door, he inserted the key and unlocked it.

“So has Trevor
rung you yet?”

“Why would
Trevor ring me?”

“Because that
boy always does when he’s in trouble.”

“No, he hasn’t
rung me yet.”

“But he
will.”

“Possibly.”
Kicking the door shut behind him, he hung the key up on the hook
beside the door and bent down to pat Sugar, who was waiting for him
with her stub of a tail wagging.

“You know he
will.”

“So why ask
me?”

“Martin, do you
want me to come over there and clip your ear?”

“Not
particularly.” Grinning wider, he tugged his tie loose.

“You’re not
with your latest tart.”

“I’m all alone
and blushing that you’d even think that I date tarts.” He peeked
into the kitchen to see that Sugar’s bowl still had some biscuits
in it, and noted that quite a few more dog biscuits were scattered
across his pristine kitchen floor. Al’s bowl, on the end of the
bench out of the reach of Sugar, was empty. The water bowl was
full.

“Just remember
Trevor, honey.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a
prime example of what happens with indiscretions.”

“I think I can
handle my own indiscretions.” Vastly amused, and ignoring the dog
biscuits on the kitchen floor, he started up the staircase.

“Are you coming
over for dinner tonight?”

“Depends on
whether Trevor rings me.”

“Going by that
boy’s record, it’ll be any minute. He’ll run like a rabbit from the
wolf, that wolf being Melissa’s father.”

His mother
spoke the truth and Marty found himself nodding.

“Anyway,” she
said. “If you could see your way clear to dropping in tomorrow, at
least.”

“It’s Sunday. I
might want to sleep in.”

“Sunday lunch.
That gives you long enough.”

“Mum, you
wouldn’t be trying to find out from me first-hand what the story is
from Trevor, would you?”

“What am I, a
gossip? I just want you to come over. All right?”

“Sure.” He
laughed.

“Be here.”

After assuring
her that he would be there, he had just barely clicked off the
phone when it rang again. Flipping it open, he almost laughed when
Trevor’s number appeared.

Sitting on the
side of his bed, he toed off his shoes. “Hey. Deep shit. I’m
impressed at how deep.” He spied Al eyeing him from behind the
curtain and waited for him to come prancing across.

“Marty.” Trevor
sounded out of breath. “You have to meet me at the bar.”

“What were you
thinking?”

“Marty, please.
Just meet me at the bar!”

“Your mother
giving you a hard time?” Chuckling, Marty flung his tie over the
naked bust of Aphrodite that sat on his bedside table. The tie
caught on her rather large nipples and hung crookedly.

Al came
bounding across the room, tackled the tie in a flying leap and
dagged it under the bed.

There was
silence for a few seconds, and then clearly through the phone Marty
heard a shrill voice calling Trevor’s name accompanied by a banging
sound.

“I have to go.”
Despair was evident in Trevor’s tone. “That’s Melissa. Marty, meet
me at the bar.”

“Sure. What
time?” Marry shrugged one arm out of the jacket and changed the
phone to his other ear.

“Three
o’clock.”

“Really? That’s
only an hour away.”

“Just be
there.”

“I’ll be
there.” Grinning, Marty flipped the phone shut and tossed it onto
the dressing table. Trevor would never learn, but this had to be
the worst happening so far in his life.

He had to admit
he couldn’t wait to hear the story from his friend. Who was the
woman, where had he met her, and why the hell had he bedded
her?

Flopping back
on the bed, Marty gazed up at the ceiling. He could still see the
fury in those bright green eyes and the way she held herself erect
and proud, refusing to back down.

Yep, a woman
thwarted was a dangerous thing. This was proof.

~*~

Crying into her
popcorn wasn’t going to fix the problem.

Sitting in the
dark movie theatre, Belle wiped her eyes for the fiftieth time at
least and gave a little hiccup. Picking up a shaky handful of
popcorn, she sighed as several pieces shivered free and disappeared
out of sight in the darkness.

The film was
violent, which was just what she’d wanted when she’d come here. It
made her able to imagine that it was she on the screen exacting
revenge on that bastard, Trevor.

Was it really
only last week that he’d told her that her weight didn’t matter,
that she was beautiful, and that he was falling for her? And what
had she done in return? After only having been with him for three
weeks, allowing him to wine and dine her, she’d fallen on her back
and given him something she’d been saving for someone special.

Or at least she
told herself she’d been saving it. The sad thing was, her virginity
was something she’d kept all these years because she’d never
attracted a man who wanted to make love to her, and those few who
would gladly have bedded her, she wouldn’t have touched with a ten
foot pole. Or a fifty foot pole for that matter. Never, in fact.
She wasn’t that desperate and her skin crawled at just the thought
of a couple of those men.

Mind you, apart
from those few that she wouldn’t touch with
any
pole, just
the thought of a handsome man seeing her naked...it made her
insides quake.

Trevor had been
so sweet, so attentive, and he’d made her head swim and her nether
regions get all tight and tingly with his clever hands. He’d even
sweet-talked her into making love in the dark, wanting nothing more
than to keep her happy. He’d charmed his way into her big girl
panties.

Well, no
freakin’ wonder. He’d had no intention of marrying her, of being a
steady boyfriend, of anything. The little gifts he’d brought her,
the attention, well hell, he was amusing himself with the naïve
town girl.

Feeling
special, she’d come to the city to surprise him, had arrived to the
news that he was getting married, and all her previous sweetness
had evaporated like a snowball in Hell. From the ashes of the
angelic girl she used to be was spawned a furious woman with one
burning desire. That bastard was going to pay.

Sniffling
dismally into her popcorn, she was nevertheless proud of the fact
that she’d walked into the church and faced the prick, let the
whole freakin’ world know what an arse he was, and saving his bride
in the meantime from a lifetime with a cheating jerk.

No more. No
more sweet girl. Sweet girls got walked on, trodden on, and no more
was she taking it. No sir. From now on she was looking after number
one, that being herself. No more men, no more sweet talk, no more
shit.

Blowing her
nose, she nodded. It was all about her now. All about Belle Broune.
And those who didn’t like it could just go jump.

So what if she
cried a little bit over that
arsehole
Trevor? Over what he
did to her? It was cleansing, she assured herself. Healing. Yes, it
was healing. That it was. Wiping away another tear, she tramped
hard on the whole feeling-sorry-for-herself that wanted to come up
and wail like a love-sick banshee. No more.

“No freakin’
more!”

“I beg your
pardon?” a voice asked from behind her.

Oops, she’d
obviously said her thoughts aloud. She slid further down in her
seat. Focussing on the movie, she wished it was her on the screen,
that kick-arse heroine who was beating the living hell out of the
bad guys. She could substitute Trevor for one of them and beat the
living hell out of him. Just beat him and beat him until he was a
pool of blood and battered flesh.

Yeah.

Chewing on
another handful of popcorn, she ignored the stray tear that rolled
down her cheek.

Cheating
bastard!

And this was
getting her nowhere. An hour into the movie and she was still
snivelling. That was the problem with sitting here on a Sunday
morning watching a movie she didn’t even like and tormenting
herself. It was time to pull up her big girl panties and get out.
Wash her face in the bathroom before anyone else could see her and
go for a nice, bracing walk, do some window shopping and go back to
the huge house for lunch.

Taking a deep
breath, she got up, ignored the annoyed murmured “About bloody
time” from the man behind her and strode down the aisles.

The corridor
outside was empty but she still had to get past the snack counter
to go to the bathroom, so she kept her face down and hurried
across, aware of the curious gaze of the spotty teenager behind the
counter. Once in the bathroom she looked at her tear-stained,
blotchy face and groaned. Splashing cold water liberally on her
face, she took several deep breaths and willed herself to
relax.

After several
minutes, she splashed her face again, relieved that some of the
blotchiness was fading.