The Lawson Boys: Marty Page 16
“Yeah. Not cool, man.” Scowling even more, Marty stared at the screen. Stupid football game, his team was losing. They couldn’t kick their way out of a wet paper bag.
“So I guess this is a novelty for you, then?” Alan asked cheerfully.
“No. It’s bloody annoying.”
“So you’re just going to forget about the big chick and instead find a woman who'll drop her knickers at the first sight of your manly physique and apparently handsome face?”
“What? No.”
“Ah.”
When Alan didn’t say anything further, Marty fiddled with the tab on the beer can and counted to ten, but when his friend still remained silent he finally turned to him and barked out, “What?”
“What ‘what’?” Alan returned innocently.
“What the hell was that ‘ah’?”
“That ‘ah’?”
“Don’t make me reach over and punch you.”
Alan laughed, but when Marty swore and started to put the can on the coffee table, he quickly held up his hands. “Peace, man.”
“Peace? The last thing I’ve had since I got here is bloody peace.”
“Now now. We only arrived this morning. Give it a chance.”
“If you don’t tell me right now what you’re insinuating, I’ll-”
“You’ve been picking up some of Mike’s impressive vocabulary.” Alan laughed again when Marty bunched one fist threateningly. “Calm down, man. Geez, I’ve never seen you get so knotted up over a woman.”
“Belle isn’t just any woman.” When Alan smiled knowingly, Marty growled.
“Listen.” Alan cocked one ankle up on his opposite knee. “You’ve never had to chase a woman in your entire life. Is this particular one worth breaking an impressive record for?”
Marty glared at him.
“Okay, let me rephrase it. Are we going home?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You’re an arsehole.”
“But an honest one.” Alan took a sip of beer. “Man, you’re besotted with this chick. Apparently she doesn’t feel quite the same. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“I thought you had all the answers, know-it-all?”
“Well, not all.” Alan modestly brushed his shirt-front. “But thanks.”
Rolling his eyes, Marty dropped back against the cushions.
“Look.” Alan straightened. “Are you giving up on her?”
“No.” And that was the damned truth.
“So what’s your next step?”
Good question. Marty studied the beer can. Slowly his combined anger and disappointment drained away and he smiled.
Reaching over, Alan punched his shoulder. “And the man is back!”
“Yeah.” Marty grinned widely. “I’m back.” And plotting.
Belle might think he was only interested in amusing himself with her and having a couple of quick nookies, but she was in for a surprise. A big bloody surprise.
Pulling the mobile phone from his pocket, he scrolled through the numbers and clicked on one.
“Moira’s Flowers,” the woman on the other end answered.
“Hi there, Moira, it’s Marty.”
“Mr Lawson, how pleasant to hear from you. Your usual?”
Jesus, they knew him so well he actually had a usual flower bouquet order. He’d never actually thought about that before and it was a little sobering. “Not this time. This time it’s something special.” Someone special.
“Lovely. So perhaps yellow roses instead of the usual dozen red roses?”
Wow. He really had to get a grip on his love life. “Actually, I’d like a large bouquet of mixed coloured orchids.”
“Really?” Even Moira sounded surprised.
“Yes, really. Here’s the name and address I’d like it sent to.” Marty rattled off Belle’s name and address.
“Right. Got that, Mr Lawson. Any message to accompany it?”
“Absolutely.” What was a bouquet of exquisite flowers without a message?
Moira hesitated. “You’re…um…usual?”
“I have a usual message?”
Moira coughed. “Yes.”
“Moira, tell me, what do I usually order when I ring?”
“Um…”
“I’m not angry, just curious.”
“Well, you usually ask for the usual.”
“I do? I don’t actually change my order?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Today was a day for revelations. Marty scratched his jaw. “Okay. Well, on this particular message, can you put-” His mind went blank.
When the silence stretched on, Alan turned his head slowly to study him while Marty could swear that Moira was waiting with bated breath on the other end of the line.
Damn it. This was ridiculous. Belle surely inspired more than blank silence from him. He was bloody losing his touch and it was all due to Belle. Damned woman. Damned soft, luscious, sexy woman…
“Mr Lawson?” Moira sounded as though she was smiling.
“Sorry. Just put this on the card.” When he’d finished, he clicked the phone off and leaned back on the sofa, smiling.
“Wow,” Alan said. “Not your usual order, huh?”
This time Marty did lean over and punch him on the upper arm.
“Shit.” Alan rubbed his arm and glared at him. “Arse. You always hit hard.”
“Wimp.” Marty flexed his fingers. His phone rang and feeling completely satisfied with himself, he picked it up off the coffee table. “Hello?”
“Marty?”
“Marcia?” He blinked.
Alan’s eyes widened, then it was his turn to grin - hugely. Bastard.
“Marty, where on earth are you?” Marcia queried. “I went around to your place and you’re not home, you’re folks were out when I called them, and your office told me that you were out of town but wouldn’t say where.”
“Oh, I-”
“I mean, fancy your office not telling me.”
“Well, confidentiality issues, Marcia.”
“Yes, but it’s different for me, isn’t it?”
“It is?” He had a bad feeling.
“Yes. Now, you didn’t forget about Bernard and Char’s party this weekend, did you?”
“They’re having a party this weekend?”
Marcia gave a little tinkling laugh. “Oops. Did I forget to tell you?”
“Yeah, I think you did. Anyway, I ca-”
“Never mind. Pick me up at seven Saturday night. Evening tux, sweetie.”
“Marcia, I’m sorry but I can’t come.”
“What? But Marty, they’ll be expecting us!”
“Isn’t there someone else who can take you?”
“Someone else?” Her shriek had him yanking the phone away, wincing, before he gingerly put it back against his ear. “Marty, you’re not serious!”
“Well, yeah. What about Kevin?”
“Kevin? I can’t go with Kevin!”
“Why not?”
“Martin Lawson! What will people say?”
“There’s Marcia and Kevin?”
Alan was flopping around on the sofa, guffawing, his hand over his mouth. Bastard. Marty partially turned his back to him. His friend was no help at all. And anyway, why was Marcia making such a fuss?
“People will be expecting us to go together!”
“It’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re engaged or anything.” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. He could feel Alan’s laughter shaking the sofa. Okay, now Marty felt a little bad. “Uh - Marcia? I didn’t mean-”
“How could you, Marty? How could you break up with me on the phone?”
“But I-”
“To lead me around and make me think we were a couple!”
Uh-oh, this had to be nipped in the bud. Goddamn it, he hadn’t seen this coming, though he should have done. “Now Marcia, we’ve only been out together for a few months, but even then not exclus
ively.”
“We’ve been out the last five times exclusively!”
“We have?”
“Martin!” Her shriek nearly shattered his ear drums.
Marty massaged his temple with one hand. “Marcia, calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down? You jackass! I can’t believe I went ring shopping with my friends, thinking that one day we’d be together in wedded bliss-”
He was horrified. “Wedded bliss?”
Tears were rolling down Alan’s cheek and he slid off the sofa and onto the floor, his laughter bellowing out. “Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“Is that imbecile Alan with you?” Marcia was nearly screaming, and in the distance he heard the crash of glass hitting a wall. “I might have known! You have some nerve, Lawson, breaking up with me over the phone and right in front of your twisted friend for your combined amusement!”
“Now Marcia, it’s not like that. I-”
“You bastard!” The phone crashed down in his ear.
Taking the mobile from his ear, he clicked it off and carefully placed it down on the sofa.
Alan was wiping the tears from his eyes while gasping for breath.
Picking up the can of beer, Marty leaned back on the sofa and took a small sip. “I think that went well, considering.”
Alan started howling with laughter again.
Sugar yipped and jumped up onto Marty’s lap, licking him under the chin, her little body quivering with delight.
“Women,” Marty gravely told Sugar. “Out of them all, you’re the only one I understand.”
Sugar curled up in his lap and he stroked her gently. Part of him felt bad that Marcia had apparently thought them exclusive, but mostly he felt relief. The woman had had big plans for them both, plans of which he wanted nothing to do with, nor had any knowledge of, and the ending of his relationship with her was just, well, a huge relief. Closing his eyes, he sighed. Women. Who could understand them?
~*~
Belle and Holly stared at the orchids in the elegant vase that stood in the centre of the kitchen table.
“Wow.” Holly was impressed.
Belle was impressed herself. These were the first flowers she’d ever received from a man and they were gorgeous.
“Must have cost a heap.” Holly touched an orchid petal carefully with the tip of a finger. “And they’re from Lawson?”
“Yep.”
“What did the card say?”
Picking it up from where she’d placed it beside the vase, Belle handed it to her friend.
Flicking it open, Holly read aloud, “‘To memories. Marty.’” She frowned. “What memories?” When Belle glanced away, Holly arched one eyebrow. “Belle, what memories?”
No matter how hard she tried, the tell-tale blush crept through Belle’s cheeks. “Oh - uh…”
Placing the card down on the table, Holly folded her arms and eyed her friend narrowly. “Okay, what memories?”
“Nothing.”
“‘Nothing’ doesn’t require orchids.”
“He’s rich. He spends money like a kid in a candy store.”
“Bullshit. A message like that means more than just a ‘nice meeting you in the city’ gesture. Something like this means…” Holly’s eyes widened. “No way. No way!”
Belle cleared her throat. “So, when did you say you’re meeting Lou’s parents again?”
“Don’t you even think of dodging this topic.” Holly pointed at the card. “Those memories weren’t created in the city, no way. Not with the state you came back in, so that means…” Her mouth dropped open, then a grin curved her lips. “He was here!”
Belle sighed. There was no stopping Holly now, she was on a roll.
“He was here,” Holly repeated. “And he must have come yesterday. And you and he - geez!”
“Yeah, geez.” Dropping down into one of the chairs, Belle leaned her forearm on the table and sighed again.
“You and Lawson had sex.”
Belle glanced at her.
“Wow.” Holly dropped down in the opposite chair.
That was putting it mildly. Fireworks were more like it. What happened between them had haunted her deliciously all night, causing her to toss and turn and lose a fair amount of sleep. Not to mention the dull ache between her thighs when she’d gotten up in the early morning.
She’d never had a night like it in her life.
“Okay.” Holly leaned forward. “Why?”
“Why?”
“Why did you have sex with him?”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“You don’t know?” Holly repeated in disbelief. “Did he force you?”
“No!” Belle was horrified.
“Blackmail you?”
“No! Cripes, Holly, he isn’t like that!”
“Hey, just checking.”
Belle rubbed her forehead. “He…I…”
Holly waggled her eyebrows. “That good, huh?”
Fantastic, actually. “Yep.”
“So how did it happen?”
“You want all the details, don’t you?”
“Every yummy, titillating detail.”
“You get the basics and only because you’re a nosy friend.”
“I’m touched.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years.”
Holly waggled her fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. “Cough up the details, Belle. How did it happen and why?”
“I need a drink for this.” Retrieving two tins of Diet Coke from the ‘fridge, she handed one to Holly and popped the tab on her can as she sat. “He came yesterday, said he was worried about me-”
“Aw.” Holly took a sip of drink. “And, by the way, the oldest trick in the book.”
That didn’t make Belle feel any better.
Catching her expression, Holly hastily amended, “But I haven’t got the whole story yet. Go on.”
“Yeah, but you could be right.”
“Orchids, Belle. Not roses. Orchids. That’s different.” She flapped one hand. “Go on.”
“He came, he talked, he seduced, he left. End of story.”
Holly stared at her. “I have a feeling I’m missing out on some details.”
“No, that’s about it.” Every hot memory was her own.
“Okay, I can see this is going to be like a pioneering mining expedition. One pick at a time.” Holly tapped the card. “Did he seduce you against your will?”
“No.” No way.
“So he’s a good kisser?”
The best. “Yes.”
“Good sex?”
Hotter than Hell. “I guess so.”
Holly shook her head. “Oh no, sister. Not ‘I guess’. That’s not allowed. Yes or no?”
“Okay, it was hot. Not that it’s any of your business.” Belle flushed.
Holly smirked. “Hotter than Trevor?”
“Yes.” Way hotter. Way better. In fact, sex with Trevor failed dismally in comparison with the rocked-her-world sex she’d had with Marty.
“Orchid hot?”
Frowning, Belle looked at the flowers. “I don’t know what he’s playing at.”
Holly also looked at the orchids. “I can tell you that he’s not finished with you yet.”
“Funny, that’s what he said.” At Holly’s raised brow, Belle added, “In different words.”
“Oh?”
Belle took a sip of Diet Coke. “He said he’d be back.”
“When?”
“Yesterday, right before he left.”
“No, I meant when did he say he’d be back?”
The door bell rang and they looked at each other.
“No way,” Holly said.
Belle’s palms started sweating as her heart leaped in her chest. “It couldn’t be.”
“Hey, he said he’d be back.” When Belle didn’t get out of the chair, Holly started to stand up. “I have to meet him. I’ll get the door.”
“No!” When Holly shrugged and started to sit down,
Belle half got up then stalled. “Yes.” She grimaced. “No.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “I’ll get it.”
“No. No, I’ll get it.” Throwing back her shoulders, Belle added, “I’m an adult. I can do this.”
“Go get him, tiger.”
Belle sent her a scowl before leaving the kitchen. At the front door she hesitated, hearing the doorbell peal again. Wiping her palms on her pants, she took a deep breath and reached for the door knob. Cripes, she was an adult, not a giggly little teenager! Marty was only a man, just a simple bloke, that was all. Nothing to get uptight about.
So she couldn’t explain the disappointment she felt when she opened the door to find her parents standing on the veranda.
“Took your sweet time, Pumpkin.” Her father ruffled her hair as he passed her into the house. “Hey, Holly! Saw your motorbike outside. Is it still drinking oil?”
“Hey, Mr B,” Holly replied cheerfully from the kitchen. “Lou got it fixed; he’s a whiz with bikes.”
Mrs Broune touched Belle’s cheek. “Everything okay, sweetie? You look a little flushed.”
You have no idea. Belle smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, Mum.” Gesturing her inwards, she added, “What brings you and Dad here?”
Her mother held up two bags of takeaway. “Lunch. Have you eaten?”
“Yum, and no.”
Entering the kitchen, Mrs Broune jiggled the bag at Holly. “Plenty here for extras. Howard over-bought as usual. Hungry, sweetie?”
“For Chinese? Anytime, Mrs B, and thank you.”
As Belle’s parents busied themselves getting plates and setting the table, Holly jerked her head at the orchids and the card. Belle just had time to slip the card into her pocket before her mother spotted the orchids.
“Oh Belle, how gorgeous. Where did they come from?” Placing the plates on the table, she leaned forward to sniff them. “You know, your father courted me with orchids.”
Holly crossed her eyes behind Mrs Broune’s back.
“Did he?” Belle asked a little weakly. Geez, surely Marty wasn’t trying to court her? No way.
“Oh yeah.” Mr Broune leered. “I swept her off her feet. She never knew what hit her.”
Mrs Broune’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, I knew, all right, I was just playing hard to get.”
“I snapped my fingers,” Mr Broune continued, “And she came running. All over me, she was.”
Mrs Broune shook her head. “It was the other way around, if I remember correctly.”