The Lawson Boys: Marty (21 page)

“Seriously?
Have you ever known me to have to chase a woman?”

“Are you
bragging?”

“No, just
stating a fact.”

“Huh.” Alan
thought about it for several seconds. “You’re right. What was I
thinking?”

“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 exclusively.”

“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.”