The Lawson Boys: Marty (25 page)

Hurrying across
the café, Belle silently willed Marty to stay in the car. She’d not
even reached the door when it opened and a man walked in. He took
one look at Belle and his eyes brightened. “Belle Broune?”

Not knowing
him, Belle slowed. “Yes.”

“The Belle
Broune?” Fishing out his mobile phone, he scrolled through it and
grinned in delight as he glanced up at her. “The Other Woman.”

Oh crap. Heart
sinking, she started to edge around him, but he took a step to the
side and blocked her way. “I’m Tyrell Baker, freelance
photographer.”

Immediately
Belle stiffened. “I have to go.”

He blocked her
way swiftly. “I just want a few photos-”

“No.” She
stepped the other way.

He matched her.
“Look, what you did was amazing. A photo would be worth something,
and-”

“No.”

The café door
opened and Marty walked in. Hands in his pockets, an easy-going
smile on his face, he walked around Baker and swung in beside
Belle. Looping one arm across her shoulders, he tucked her into his
side and plucked the carton of iced coffee from her hand. “Hey,
Baker.”

Immediately she
felt safer, sheltered, his very presence wrapping her in a
protective cocoon. Instinctively she leaned into him, and his hand
on her shoulder stroked soothingly.

Baker’s eyes
widened. “Lawson?”

“Fancy meeting
you way out here,” Marty drawled.

“Fancy meeting
you
way out here.” Baker’s gaze was glued to where Marty’s
arm encircled Belle’s shoulders.

She could just
about see the cogs turning in his brain. He looked from her
shoulders to her, to Marty, and again back to her.

“I’m here
visiting my girlfriend.” Marty drawled, and when she glanced up
with a protest on her lips, it died as soon as she saw the glitter
of his eyes as he stared down the photographer.

“Your
girlfriend?” Baker’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah. You
seemed to be having a bit of a problem with her answer to your
request, too. Can’t take no for an answer?”

“Hang on.”
Baker frowned. “She can’t be your girlfriend.”

Marty’s
eyebrows rose.

“I mean, her
and Trevor Benderage…”

“Yes?” There
was a definite dangerous edge to Marty’s tone.

“Well, she and
he had a thing. You know.”

“So?”

Clearing his
throat, Baker was obviously thinking before he spoke. “Well…look,
she’s a bit of news at the moment. Just want a few photos, that’s
all.”

The tension in
Marty’s deceptively easy slouch was only felt by Belle. She half
expected him to speak on her behalf but he simply looked down at
her in silence, the unspoken question clear in his eyes. When she
shook her head, he looked back at Baker. “There’s your answer.
No.”

“But-”

“No.” The chill
with which the word was spoken had even Belle swallowing.

“Fine.” Raising
his hands, Baker nodded and stepped to the side. “Whatever. But if
you change your mind, Ms Broune-” He stopped when Marty shifted
position slightly. “Right.” With a mumble, he trotted to the
counter.

Marty smiled
easily down at Belle as he steered her to the door.

In that moment
she was thankful that he was here, that he’d stepped in to deal
with what was obviously a man who didn’t take no for an answer, but
at the same time she wondered.

He held the
door open so she preceded him, hearing him close it when they were
both on the footpath. Opening the drink carton he held, he tipped
it to his lips and took several long swallows, his throat working,
his eyes looking down at her the whole time.

She almost felt
like a butterfly pinned under the gaze of a watchful predator,
which was downright foolish when not minutes before he’d been her
protector. Opening the carton of iced chocolate, she took a
tentative sip.

Without looking
around, Marty moved aside as the door swung open. He smiled down at
the garden club ladies as they came out onto the footpath, eyeing
him assessingly while fluttering around Belle.

“You have any
trouble with that man inside,” Mrs Harris informed Belle, “And you
tell me. My Bert will be around like a shot to sort him out.” She
simpered and glanced at Marty. “Unless your boyfriend decides to
take him in hand first.”

Time to nip
this in the bud. “He’s n-”

“You can be
sure I’ll deal with anyone who upsets Belle,” Marty interrupted
smoothly, winking charmingly at the ladies. “The only handling I’ll
do, however, will be to the lovely Belle.”

Belle blushed,
the ladies giggled, and just like that he’d won them over. Truly,
the man could charm the panties off the primmest of ladies.

The garden club
ladies chatted to him, asking him questions he fielded with
admirable skill, and when they left they were still shooting him
admiring glances. Mrs Harris even gave Belle the thumbs-up.

Belle shook her
head and sighed.

“Nice ladies,”
Marty commented.

“Yes.” She
certainly hadn’t expected their support, which had been a nice
surprise.

Sliding his arm
around her shoulders in what was becoming a very familiar move,
Marty nudged her towards the car. She rather fancied that they fit
well together, his hard length against her softer curves, but she
still couldn’t shake a feeling.

“One day your
head is going to explode with all those conclusions you jump to,”
Marty murmured.

“I don’t-”

“You do.” He
drew his arm back and opened the car door, waiting in polite
silence while she slid behind the wheel. Shutting the door after
her, he strode back to his side of the car and got in. Fastening
the seat belt, he took another swallow of iced coffee. “How about
we find somewhere private where you can vent your spleen.”

He had her mood
pegged correctly, which made her bite her lip. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re
something. Unless you’d rather we have it out here where Baker can
take some photos of us arguing?” Smiling, he waved towards the
café.

Glancing up,
Belle wasn’t surprised to see Baker holding a camera and taking a
few snapshots.

Unsnapping the
seatbelt, Marty placed his carton of drink in the console. “C’mon,
honey, let’s give him something to quell your current scandal.” And
with that he reached across, wrapped one arm around Belle’s neck
and the other behind her back, and pulling her into his arms, he
kissed her soundly.

His hold was
designed to still any struggle while appearing romantic to anyone
watching. Belle knew this but she didn’t care, because one touch of
his lips to hers and she was a goner - again. Every bit of
commonsense fled as soon as that magic mouth touched hers, his
tongue demanding entrance to plunder mercilessly. It was a hot
kiss, deep, claiming, and when he lifted his head his eyes sparkled
with heat.

“Okay, honey,”
he said softly. “Let’s blow this joint.” When she could only blink
up at him, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and simply waited,
his gaze drifting over her face as though he could never tire of
seeing her.

Someone
wolf-whistled, breaking the spell, and remembering where they were
and who was watching, Belle sucked in a deep breath and slowly
retreated back to her side of the car.

“Let’s go.”
Marty refastened the seatbelt. “Somewhere quiet, remember?
Somewhere private.”

He continued to
chat as she started the car and backed out onto the street,
stopping only when they were past the café and on the open
road.

“So,” Belle
finally broke the silence. “Was that it?”

“I’m not doing
this while you’re driving,” he replied quietly. “Find a place and
let’s clear the air.”

“I never had
air to clear until I met you.”

“Not doing
it.”

Annoyance
prickled through her again, a feeling of things spiralling out of
control. “Look, I think you-”

“Not
listening.” Reaching for the radio, he turned it up.

Fine. He wanted
privacy, she knew the place to go. Ten minutes later she pulled the
car to a stop in front of an old park empty of people, the broken
swings hanging sadly.

“Wow.” Marty
glanced from the broken swings to Belle. “I said privacy, not a
spooky place.”

“It’s not
spooky. The council is going to do it up soon, and - what the hell,
Marty?”

“Here it
comes,” he murmured, resting his elbow on the window frame and
tapping his fingertips against the outside of the door.

“You told that
photographer that I was your girlfriend!”

Placidly, he
nodded.

“What the hell
are you playing at?”

He took a sip
of coffee. “I’m not playing at anything.”

“Well, I have
an idea of exactly why you’re here.”

“Oh boy. I
can’t wait to hear this.” Leaning back against the seat, he took
another sip of coffee, all the time keeping his gaze trained on
her.

Belle felt like
tipping the carton of iced coffee over his head, mainly because she
didn’t even like her own suspicions, but they boiled around in her
brain until she felt like she was going to explode. “Damn it,
Marty, I think you came here because you knew Baker was
coming.”

He didn’t
reply, just kept watching her with that bloody calmness that was
rattling her nerves.

“I bet you came
because your mother felt like she owed my mother something, because
they’re friends.”

Not one word
passed his firm lips. Not one twitch of his eyes betrayed his
thoughts.

The words came
as fast as her thoughts multiplied. “You’re going to save my
reputation by being seen with me, then you’re going to go home and
- and…” She floundered, and as sudden as her anger had overwhelmed
her it faded, leaving her feeling utterly…alone.

Slumping back
in the seat, she stared miserably out at the desolate park. It
horrified her even more when tears pricked at the backs of her
eyes, because goodness knew why she was upset with the idea of
Marty trying to save her reputation. She should be glad he was
going back to the city, glad that-

“You duffer,”
Marty said affectionately.

Belle’s jaw
tightened as she fought to maintain a composed façade.

“As usual,
jumping to conclusions.” Marty shifted, his arm coming along the
back of her seat, his body shifting so that she could see him out
of the corner of her eyes.

If she’d cared
to look, which she didn’t, she assured herself.

One big hand
cupped her chin and turned her head so that she was looking
directly into his eyes as he leaned down towards her. Not only was
his hold gentle, but his eyes studied her with a tenderness she
hadn’t before seen in him.

That tenderness
was what really shook her. Well, that and the heat of his body, but
right then it was the tenderness that touched her.

“You’re going
home.” She swallowed.

He shook his
head.

“You’ve done
what you came to do.” The belief that he hadn’t come out of
interest in her hurt.
Stupid, stupid, stupid
. She silently
berated herself, wondering when it had come to matter so much. God,
he’d only been around since yesterday. She was such a fool lately
when it came to men.

“Anything else
to say?” Marty’s thumb stroked across her cheek.

“No.”

“Sure?”

She couldn’t
even muster up an angry retort. Instead, she simply looked at
him.

“Okay.” He
nodded. “Here’s the truth. Listening?” When she didn’t reply
straight away, he gave her chin a little shake.

“Fine,” she
said dispiritedly. “I’m listening.”

“I didn’t know
Baker was coming here but he was bound to show up, he’s got a nose
for a story. But honey, the story of you and Trevor is fast
becoming old news, believe it or not.”

“You just made
a new story,” she muttered accusingly.

Marty
shrugged.

“Doesn’t that
worry you? What if that photo gets in the newspapers?”

“I don’t care.
Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because not
only will I be The Other Woman, but now I’m also going to be a
tramp that goes from one bloke to another.”

Marty rolled
his eyes.

“In several
days I’ve confronted one man about cheating on me and now I’m
pictured with you.”

“You know,
Belle, you have to get over this.”

“Get over it?”
She stared at him.

“You’re not the
first woman to lose her virginity. It’s not new, honey.”

“You don’t get
it, do you?”

“No.” His tone
was firmer. “I don’t.”

Pointedly
pushing his hand from her chin, she looked him directly in the
eyes. “I was saving myself for someone special.” When he simply
continued to watch her with quiet intensity, she swallowed her
feelings of foolishness, the way she sounded so old-fashioned, and
continued more strongly, “I thought that someone special was
Trevor, and I gave him what I’d been saving. He took me for a fool
and now I don’t have that special something for anyone else.”

Okay, that
sounded stupid. Now it was out there, all she could do was fall
back into the seat and cover her face with her hands.

“Belle-”

“Oh God, if
you’re going to laugh, just do it. I feel like such a bloody fool!
I can’t believe I said what I did. I can’t believe it-”

“I can’t
believe you’re letting it rule your life,” he said bluntly.

Surprised, she
lowered her hands and looked sideways at him.

“Jesus, Belle,”
he said, a little impatiently. “Your hymen got broken by Trevor. So
what? It was a bit of membrane, nothing more. You’re still you.
That hasn’t changed.”

Blowing out a
puff of air, Belle shoved one hand through her hair. “It’s - he -
crap.”

“Well, yes, he
is crap,” Marty agreed.

“No, I…”
Frustrated, she thumped the steering whee with one hand. “I trusted
him, Marty, I trusted him and now I don’t know who I can
trust.”