The Lawson Boys: Marty (4 page)

“That’s not how
I remember it,” Mr Lawson said.

“I was
wonderful at school.”

“That’s not how
I remember it, either.” His father harrumphed but the twinkle in
his eyes belied his gruff tone. “I do remember a lot of
detention.”

“It was all a
fabrication. I keep telling you that.” Marty rolled his eyes.

“And was it a
fabrication that had more than several irate fathers knocking on my
door when you were a teenager?”

“Hormones. What
can I say?”

“No more on
that subject, that’s what you can say.” Mrs Lawson interrupted.
“Really, you’ll give poor Belle all sorts of reservations about
going out with you for a drink.”

As if Belle
didn’t already.

“Trust me, she
won’t regret it.”

“I’m wondering
if I will,” his mother muttered.

Marty’s grin
widened.

Belle glanced
dubiously at him.

“I’ll be good,”
he promised.

At what, she
wondered. Behaviour or in bed? And why was she even thinking about
him and her in bed? It wasn’t as though he’d ever be interested in
her. Just like Trevor, he probably thought she’d be good for a
laugh and that was all. Just the thought was enough to hurt.

“So, what do
you do for a crust of bread?” Marty asked.

Dragging her
thoughts from dismal depths, she refocussed on him. “I work in a
book store.”

“Nice. Books.
You read a lot, then?”

“Yes.” Talking
about books was a far cry from thinking about Trevor…and
crying.

“What kind do
you read?”

“Depends on my
mood.” She relaxed. “Thrillers, mysteries, horror, history.” She
flushed a little. “Romance.”

Was that a
flicker of something in his eyes? Surely not…sympathy? In the next
second she realised she must have been mistaken, because a wicked
dimple suddenly appeared beside his equally wicked grin. “Erotic
romance?”

“Marty!” Mrs
Lawson choked on her orange juice.

“What?” His
eyebrows rose. “Harly reads erotic romances. I hear it’s all the
rage.”

“What Harly
reads is her business.”

“Alex says it’s
very interesting research.”

She rested her
forehead in one hand. “God give me strength.”

Mr Lawson gave
a muffled laugh.

Marty’s bright
eyes switched to Belle. “So?”

“I read romance
of all genres.”

“Dominance and
submission?”

“Okay!” Mrs
Lawson slapped the table lightly. “That’s enough.” She turned a
motherly smile on Belle, though her exasperation with her son was
evident in her slightly flared nostrils. “How are things going back
home?”

Visions of
dominance and submission with Marty wielding a very dominant hand
were dancing sinfully in Belle’s head. Glad to turn her attention
elsewhere, she pushed the thought of Marty in leather pants to the
back of her mind and smiled in relief at his more well-mannered
mother. “Quiet. The usual. The store is going well, my boss is
nice, and the town is growing slowly. The normal town trend.”

“Do you have a
boyfriend, dear?”

She almost felt
the colour drain from her face. “Um…no?” Shit, why did that answer
come out as a question? “I mean, no. No, I don’t.” Because really,
you couldn’t count that immoral turd, Trevor.

“What a shame.
I don’t understand why you don’t have a nice boyfriend. Maybe Cindy
can introduce you to some nice men while you’re here.”

“Oh, I…I
don’t…I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but really-”

“Geez, Mum, and
you think I embarrass the family,” Marty interjected.

“Sorry, dear.”
Mrs Lawson smiled. “I guess it’s just with Cindy and Alex both
married I have wedding bells still dancing in my ears.”

Belle looked at
Marty. “You still have one son left unhitched.”

His brows rose
in amusement.

“I don’t think
any woman who knows his reputation would consider making him an
honest man.” Mrs Lawson sighed.

“Thank you,
Mum.”

“Just stating
the facts, dear.”

Half expecting
an argument to ensue, Belle was pleasantly surprised when Marty
simply laughed.

“I’ve never
heard about you,” Marty suddenly stated, all laughter leaving his
face to be replaced with curiosity. “How is it that you know my
parents?”

“Our mothers
are friends.”

“That’s right.”
Mrs Lawson nodded. “We went to school together but we both got
married and moved to different sides of the state. We’ve kept in
touch on and off for years. When she mentioned that Belle was
coming to visit the city, I immediately invited her to stay here.
It’s delightful to have her, I must say.”

“I’m sure,”
Marty said dryly.

Just what was
he getting at? As if she didn’t know! Belle shot him a glare.

He looked back
at her innocently. “So, what do you think of our city so far?”

“Big. Noisy.
Full of people.”

“Cities are
like that.”

Remembering
that she was a guest, and aghast that she’d allowed that to slip
for even a second, Belle glanced at Mrs Lawson. “Interesting, too.
So many things to see.”

Mrs Lawson
smiled and the conversation turned to idle chit-chat. She filled
Belle in on her daughter, Cindy’s, cat adoption program, the
wedding of her son Alex to the lovely Harly, and a slew of other
light topics.

Mr Lawson put
his two pence worth in now and again, but he mostly spoke to Marty
quietly and from the few snatches of conversation she caught, Belle
had an idea it was about business.

The meal passed
pleasantly enough and once they’d all drunk their coffee and tea,
Marty got to his feet. “I must go. Al has had the house to himself
most of the day, God knows what he’s done to it. Cindy will be home
in a few hours wanting him back. I better make sure he’s
respectable.”

“Oh dear.” Mrs
Lawson looked was concerned. “What did he do?”

“Don’t worry, I
managed to get the flour out of his coat. Took the vacuum cleaner
to get the rest up off the floor, though.” Marty grinned. “Never
knew flour could be such a devil to get out of corners. Stuff gets
everywhere.”

“How did he get
the flour?”

“When he went
hunting the tea bags.”

“Marty, you
know you have to keep the pantry closed when Al is around.”

“Don’t look at
me. He opened it.”

“He didn’t eat
any, did he?”

“Tea or
flour?”

“Either! Marty,
he’s just a baby!”

A baby who
broke into the pantry to eat flour and tea bags? Belle’s eyes
widened.

“Al is one year
old.” Marty picked up his jacket from where he’d slung it across a
small chair in the corner. “Hardly a baby, Mum.”

“If you can’t
look after him properly while Cindy is away, you better bring him
here.”

Obviously Al
was Marty’s nephew, but why on earth his sister would leave a one
year old baby with a bachelor of dubious habits was beyond Belle,
but she wisely kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t her business.

“I’ve looked
after Al heaps of times.” Picking up the coffee cup, Marty drained
the dregs and placed it back on the table with a wink at his
mother. “He loves staying with me.”

“Because you
let him run wild.” Mrs Lawson shook her head reprovingly.

“And you
don’t?” Marty pointed at the door. “I see you have your own
grandkids in hand.”

When had
children arrived? Belle glanced at the door to see one of the
kittens prancing past with an impressive red bra over its head, the
other kitten behind it holding a strap.

“Oh!” Mrs
Lawson was out of her chair and in pursuit. “You little devils!
Give me my bra back!”

Laughing, Mr
Lawson saluted Marty. “Nice save.”

Bemused at the
fact that the grandkids to which Marty referred were the kittens,
Belle nodded. Now she had a fair idea that Al was a cat, not a
human. Somehow that only made her like the Lawsons more.

Marty grinned
and winked at Belle. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

Or Mr and Mrs
Lawson, anyway. She was reserving judgement on the youngest
son.

Chapter 2

Deciding to
spend the rest of the afternoon at the lovely mansion, Belle
explored the gardens. Colours burst from flowers and bushes, little
paths meandered around and the place was utterly delightful.

Her mother had
often talked about Mrs Lawson, and after meeting her and her
husband and seeing the family photos on the walls, Belle could
easily imagine the gardens and house filled with the cheerful
laughter, arguments and chatter of children. The mansion and
gardens were lovely, but it was also homely.

She spent
several hours sitting in a comfortable swing chair under a tree
reading, trying to forget all about the dastardly Trevor, before
making her way back inside.

Meeting Mr
Lawson in the foyer with the battered tom snuggled in his arms, she
couldn’t help but smile. Tall, thin and slightly stooped, his
blonde hair sprinkled liberally with grey, he was the epitome of a
well-to-do gentleman, seeming very laid-back and quiet in
comparison to his wife, but his shrewd brown eyes missed nothing
and gave testament to the fact that he was extremely
intelligent.

And was
obviously a sucker for animals. The tom did everything but actually
smirk at her from his safe haven in Mr Lawson’s arms.

“Nice of you to
take him in.” Lifting a hand, Belle allowed the tom to sniff
her.

“Poor little
bugger, he’s had a hard life.” Mr Lawson ruffled the tom’s ears and
a deep, grating purr broke from the cat’s massive chest. “But
Mister is now cruising in the lap of luxury, aren’t you, old
boy?”

“Mister?”

“Don’t look at
me, Diana named him. My wife is of the opinion that he is worthy of
a name that reflects his personality. He’s a real mister, she
reckons.”

Belle
laughed.

Mister stared
at her before laying his chin back on Mr Lawson’s arm and half
closing his eyes.

“He doesn’t
seem to mind the kittens,” Belle remarked.

“He tolerates
them as long as they leave him alone. Trust me, the Terrible Two
quickly learned who rules here and they give him a lot of
respect…and distance.” Mr Lawson grinned.

Mrs Lawson came
hurrying down the staircase. “Oh, Belle, there you are. Honey,
we’re slipping out for a short time to visit a friend who isn’t
well. I didn’t think you’d mind, seeing as Marty will be here in an
hour or so.”

“Of course
not.”

Mrs Lawson gave
her a quick kiss on the cheek and proceeded to give instructions as
though Belle were one of her own grown children. “Now, Marty has a
spare key to let you back into the house again. The staff is going
home early tonight as no one will be home for dinner. Our mobile
number is written on the phone pad if you need us for anything at
all. The furries have plenty of food so they’ll be fine, though if
you don’t want anything personal disappearing, I’d advise you to
shut your door on the youngsters, they’re shocking thieves. We
should be home about ten o’clock as we’ll be eating out tonight as
well. Now, dear, is there anything else you need to know?”

“I’m sure I’ll
be fine, thank you.” Belle had to bite her lip against adding
‘Mum’.

“She’ll be
fine.” Mr Lawson winked at Belle and handed her Mister, who
proceeded to hang in her arms as though he’d lost all use of his
legs.

And boy was he
heavy.

“Now don’t mind
Marty, he’s a bit of a tease, but don’t let him go too far…” Mrs
Lawson trailed off and cleared her throat. “He’ll be good.”

Belle’s
eyebrows rose. Was she actually
warning
Belle about her own
son?

“Anyway…”
Leaning forward, Mrs Lawson gave Mister a kiss between his battered
ears. “You be a good boy for Granny, won’t you, sweetie? Go and
curl up on our bed if you want to, baby.”

Mister blinked
at her and drooled on Belle’s arm a little.

“Oh, you poor
baby. Never mind, Uncle Tim will fix your teeth on Tuesday.” Giving
him one last fondle of the ears, Mrs Lawson gave Belle an
absent-minded pat on the cheek and turned to her husband. “Come
along, dear, or we’ll be late.”

Left standing
in the foyer, Belle could only shake her head in bemusement. Her
hosts were an odd couple. She half expected to see them in holey
cardigans, standing on a sagging veranda of a run-down farm, poor
but happy. Instead they lived in a mansion and ran a business that
was known for both buying out struggling smaller businesses and
making them flourish, and buying lucrative businesses and making
them even more successful. The Lawson name was known as belonging
to a very intelligent, sharp, shrewd family, yet the Lawsons
themselves were such unpretentious people with a family loyalty and
warmth that was as familiar as her own working family back
home.

Probably that
was why she didn’t feel out of place amongst them. Or amongst Mr
and Mrs Lawson, anyway. She had yet to meet Cindy and Alex, their
other two children, or their spouses, but seeing as one was in the
Army and the other into cat rescue and the family business, they
sounded nice.

Marty, on the
other hand, she had yet to see what game he was playing.

Mister seemed
disinclined to get down, so she lugged him upstairs to her bedroom
and placed him down on the bed, where he proceeded to stand, think
about it, then sit down and start his ablutions.

“Nice,” she
said. “Just lick yourself while sitting on my bed.”

Being a cat, he
ignored her.

Noting the time
was passing, Belle had a quick shower and got dressed. Uncertain
exactly here they were going to dinner, she pulled on a pale pink
maxi dress that gathered under her breasts in a baby-doll fashion
and fell to just above her feet, skimming her over generous curves
gracefully. At the top of the low-cut bodice was a thin, black
ribbon tied in a little bow. Taking out a lacy black cardigan, she
draped it across the end of the bed. It wasn’t made for warmth, but
it set off the pink of the dress and made her a little less
self-conscious of her rounded arms. Placing money into a small
black clutch, she set it beside the cardigan before slipping into
low-heeled black pumps. Her brown curls she fastened back with a
clip at the nape of her neck. A swish of mascara, a swipe of pale
rose lipstick, a spritz of perfume and she was as ready as she was
ever going to be. She just hoped her clothes were suitable for
wherever Marty took her.