The woman was pretty and exuded confidence from the tips of her eye-watering stilettos to the artfully careless bun on top of her head. She was undoubtedly, enviably, one of those who didn’t give a fig what anyone thought of her clothes or how she wore them. Neither, apparently, did she give a fig about the men wrestling in the middle of the room.
This just had to be Cindy, Marty’s sister, and that meant that the man Marty was wrestling was her husband, Tim.
“And calling her Sugar?” The lean man almost ripped Marty’s shirt off completely in his attempts to wrestle him to the ground. “What are you, a sissy girl?”
Marty’s reply was lost in the fog of admiration that surrounded Belle. Oh God, he was built! Shirt hanging open and half off him, his six - count ‘em, six - pack stomach in plain view, his suit pants riding low on his hips due to the button hanging half off. The muscles in his arms bulged, his pecs flexed, everything flexed and - Oh my God, he had a small bar piercing his right nipple!
That made her eyes widen even more. Marty Lawson had a piercing in his right nipple! It looked - he looked - oh God - that was so hot!
She was practically panting like a giddy teenager. Holy cow! Get a grip! She almost had to wipe the drool off her chin.
The poodle pranced into the room and made straight for Marty. Catching sight of her, Marty dropped Tim to the floor and picked the poodle up, cuddling her close. Belle’s chin almost hit the floor when Marty started talking to the poodle.
“Who’s Daddy’s girl then, huh? Who’s Daddy’s widdle girl? Did that nasty Uncle Tim of yours insult you? Huh? Did he? Well don’t you worry, Sugar baby, Daddy kicked your nasty Uncle’s arse, yes I did. Yes I did.” He buried his face in the poodle’s neck and she rewarded him by wriggling frantically and barking and licking anywhere on his head that she could reach.
Marty owned a tiny poodle called Sugar and he dressed her in pink accessories. If Belle hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she’d never have believed it.
The man - obviously Tim - rolled onto his back on the floor and groaned. “Jesus. I’m father to a cat and a bloody uncle to a dog dressed in pink by a sissy-girl owner. What kind of family did I marry into?”
Marty’s reply was to place the little poodle onto Tim’s chest, where it dove at him and proceeded to lick his face.
Tim bellowed and tried to roll away, but Belle noticed that he cupped the little poodle gently in one hand and had a huge grin on his face. Sitting up, he tipped the tiny dog onto her back and proceeded to tickle her belly.
“Aw,” said Marty. “Who’s Sugar’s Uncle Tim, huh? Who’s widdle Sugar’s Uncle Tim? Is he being nice to you, then? Is he scared of Daddy’s big foot up his arse? Is he?”
The whole time, Cindy didn’t look up once.
Shaking her head in disbelief and unable to help smiling, Belle started to back away from the door, unwilling to interrupt the fun, but Marty caught sight of her. His grin faded, his gaze sharpened, and she felt the lack of his warm amusement intensely.
Stupid stupid stupid. Ignoring the way her heart fell suddenly, she turned away.
“Belle?”
Ignoring him calling out to her, she started for the staircase. Obviously her drunken status last night had scored badly with him, and she couldn’t blame him, mostly because she didn’t exactly remember everything that had transpired after drink number, well, who knew what? All she knew was that he’d seen her safely home and left her fully clothed in bed.
“Belle?” His voice sounded closer and she sped up.
“I’m just going upstairs to get…something.”
“Belle.” This time his voice was firmer, the hand wrapping around her upper arm and drawing her to a halt just as firm.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him, and just like that her breath fled. It just up and left her body, leaving her staring at the bar that pierced his right nipple, the bar that seemed to wink and beckon to her to touch it, to trace the unyielding steel right before she touched the brown male nipple that clasped it.
The heat of his body so close to her seeped into her, the male scent of him, and his height above her, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the hall beyond. Her whole focus was on Marty.
Her gaze travelled upward, over the swell of muscle, over the tanned throat and firm jaw, gliding across the full lips that retained a masculine firmness, the straight nose and finally those brilliant blue eyes that were so startling when taken with the blonde hair that flopped across his dark brows.
She had to fight the temptation to lift her hand and trail her fingers through that thick, dishevelled blonde hair, to smooth it back and tunnel her fingers into the silky strands.
Those brilliant blue eyes were locked onto her own eyes, seeming to bore into her, searching and examining, pushing aside her carefully guarded secrets to lay her bare.
Oh God, to be bare beneath him, skin on skin, breathe intermingling... Just the thought had her swaying close.
His hand was firm at her waist, big, spanning the indention where the small of her back met the rise of her hips. His fingers spread, the big palm moving lower. His eyes darkened, deepened, wicked secrets seeming to spill forth as he moved closer, his head angling down-
The poodle’s yipping pierced the air along with a door banging shut in the distance, both noises bringing Belle to her senses and making her spring back.
Marty blinked, a frown darkening his brow briefly, his eyes suddenly unreadable as he turned to the hall entry, blocking her view of whoever was coming through the door.
“Marty!” Mrs Lawson’s voice was surprised and then resigned as she added, “Are you and Tim fighting over Sugar again?”
“He insulted her.” Moving forward, Marty gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“Your son picks on me,” Tim said dolefully from the lounge room doorway.
Smiling fondly, Mrs Lawson walked up to him and patted him on the cheek before straightening his shirt with a few brisk pulls, saying as she did so, “Cindy?”
“Yes, Mum?” came her daughter’s voice.
“How could you let the boys fight?”
“I was reading an article.”
“Both of them are half undressed, no doubt from fighting.”
There was silence for a second before Cindy replied, “I hope it’s from fighting. If it’s from anything else they’ve been trying to do, I’m going to be worried.”
Tim made gagging noises.
Ignoring both her daughter’s comment and her son-in-law’s reaction, Mrs Lawson turned to Marty. “Dear, do something about your state of dress. You look positively barbaric.”
Yeah, he sure did. Belle almost had to stop her tongue from lolling out of her mouth.
“Belle likes it,” Marty replied easily.
Her eyes widened, her gasp audible in the hallway. “I don’t - I didn’t - Mrs Lawson, I-”
“Sweetie.” Mrs Lawson walked over to pat her arm. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s my son I’m not so sure of.”
Over top of his mother’s head, Marty winked at Belle, making her even more flustered. There was no sign of the wicked carnality in his eyes, only the twinkling of a wicked sense of humour.
Had she imagined the whole thing? Oh, how embarrassing! Oh Lord, she could never look him in the eye again. Ever.
“Now go and get another shirt.” Mrs Lawson pulled Marty’s shirt outward and shook her head at a torn button hole and several missing buttons. “Honestly, you boys.”
Tim grinned.
“Then come on through into the dining room for lunch.” Mrs Lawson glanced behind her as her husband came through the door.
Sugar immediately raced up to Mr Lawson, who bent and patted her. “Hey, Sugar plum.”
The kittens appeared as if from nowhere, eyeing Sugar with mischief clearly on their minds.
“You better put her somewhere safe,” Mrs Lawson told her husband. “Or the Terrible Two will cause problems.”
“I’ll shut her in one of the
bedrooms.” Bending down, Marty gently picked up Sugar, cradling her in his arms.
It looked weird, yet also sweet, the tiny poodle with the pink accessories being cradled so gently in the muscular arms of a wickedly handsome man who did look barbaric with his torn shirt revealing the small steel bar piercing his right nipple.
Belle had to practically tear her gaze from the enticing picture and turn her attention to her host. Forcing herself to think of other things, she wondered what excuse she should give when breaking the news of her leaving to Mr and Mrs Lawson, and when would be an appropriate time.
Mrs Lawson took Belle’s arm and led her into the lounge room. “Let me introduce you to my daughter and son-in-law.”
Cindy and Tim were now standing side-by-side, his arm around her waist while she leaned her head against his shoulder. His expression was openly loving as he looked down at her.
As Belle entered the room with Mrs Lawson, Tim and Cindy both looked at her. Tim smiled, and Cindy’s eyes widened as she exclaimed, “You’re wearing a Harly Bentley!”
“What?”
Cindy strode forward and reached out to finger the silky material of the floaty top with the sweetheart neckline and little puffy sleeves. “Harly Bentley made this. I’d know her work anywhere.”
“Well, yes.” Belle glanced down at the top, one of her favourites. It made her feel feminine, and the tiny flower print was so attractive in her opinion. “I order many of my clothes from her. She’s an awesome lady.”
“You can say that again.” Cindy nodded. “I’ve tried to talk her into going into business, but the damned woman is so stubborn!”
“Pot, kettle.” Tim waggled his eyebrows.
“One day,” Cindy told him, “I will win her over.”
“Not happening.”
“One day.”
“In your dreams, hot stuff.”
“Sweetie, I’m afraid Tim’s right. Harly’s mind is made up and you won’t change it.” Mrs Lawson shook her head.
“Alex could change it.”
“Alex loves her too much to make her do anything.”
“Poop.”
With a light laugh, genuinely amused, Mrs Lawson touched Belle’s shoulder. “Belle, this is my daughter Cindy, and my beloved son-in-law, Tim. Kids, this is Belle, the daughter of one of my best friends.”
Cindy smiled widely. “Pleased to meet you, Belle.”
Tim shook her hand. “We’ve just got a new litter of abandoned kittens at home. How many do you want?”
Belle blinked. “Oh, I uh - well, I have a cat at home and she’s a little possessive. I don’t think-”
“Relax.” Mr Lawson patted her shoulder as he entered the room. “Tim, behave yourself.”
“Just trying to spread the love, Sir.”
Mr Lawson looked him up and down. “I sincerely hope that’s not how you look after spreading the love, son. Not with my daughter.”
Cindy took in Tim’s tousled hair, shirt hanging out of his pants, torn pocket and now slightly red cheeks, and she grinned. “Well, he kinda does look like-”
“I’m hungry.” Managing to commence tucking his shirt into his pants while crowding his wife with his body towards the door, Tim started speaking fast. “Jesus. I don’t mean that kind of hungry. I mean I really want to eat.”
“Kinky,” Cindy drawled.
“No. Cripes. Sir, I don’t mean…I just…” Tim stopped and hung his head.
Though his lips twitched, Mr Lawson eyed him gravely. “Yes, son?”
“Can we forget the last few minutes?”
“I think that’d be just fine.” Laughing abruptly, Mr Lawson clapped his son-in-law on the shoulder and walked past him. “Dining room, everyone.”
Mrs Lawson linked her arm through Belle’s and led her from the room, but not before Belle caught sight of Tim pinching his wife’s ample bottom. She squealed, reached back and smacked him. He grabbed her hand, swung her around and kissed her soundly. He was a fast mover, she’d give him that. Mrs Lawson glanced around to find Cindy standing there with a big grin on her face and her cheeks flushed, while Tim managed to look innocent and was straightening his shirt. When Mrs Lawson looked away, Tim leered at Cindy.
The by-pass between them was so loving and teasing, so genuinely fun, that it tugged a little at Belle’s heartstrings. To find a love like Cindy and Tim had, like Mr and Mrs Lawson, like her own parents, it seemed something she’d only ever view from afar.
In the dining room everyone sat down and by some design, however intentional or innocent, the only vacant chair for Marty was that opposite Belle’s. Tim and Cindy sat opposite each other, while Mr and Mrs Lawson sat at either end of the table.
It was already set with platters of sandwiches and several jugs of chilled orange juice. Within seconds the platters were being passed around and Mrs Lawson was pouring the glasses of orange juice and handing them to everyone.
For several minutes there was general chit chat and catching up between the family members and Belle was content to let the conversation drift over her head. She only looked up when Marty entered and sat opposite her, looking every inch the neat, relaxed, business man and far removed from his tousled state. His shirt was clean and tidy, his hair combed, and every button done up except for the top two. A tie hung loosely around his neck.
She rather preferred him in the torn shirt with that rebellious nipple piercing, but it wasn’t as though she had any say in the matter. Besides, she had other things on her mind, namely making excuses.
Picking up a sandwich, Marty starting eating but his gaze stayed on her and finally she had to meet it.
“So, how are you feeling?” he queried quietly.
Since everyone else was still chattering, she felt safe in replying just as quietly, “Good, thank you. It was kind of you to see me home.” She blushed a little under his regard. “Thank you for everything.”
“No worries.” His smile was easy.
So easy, in fact, that it shouldn’t have made her heart stutter and skip a beat. Clearing her throat, she took a sip of orange juice.
“Marty.” Mr Lawson turned his attention to his son.
“Dad.” Marty gave Belle one last long look before switching his regard to Mr Lawson.
“How did the meeting go this morning?”
“Very good. The Olsen’s have agreed to our price and the paperwork is being sorted out as we speak.”
“Excellent.” Mr Lawson practically beamed. “When’s the signing?”
“Thursday.”
Mr Lawson rubbed his hands and beamed. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory!”
“And another one bites the dust.” Tim raised his glass. “To victory!”
Belle half expected him to be admonished by Mrs Lawson, who was shaking her head reprovingly, but then she broke into a wide smile and raised her own glass, giving out a very unlady-like “Whoo hoo!”
Cindy laughed at Belle’s expression. “Don’t let Mum’s innocent demeanour fool you. She’s a shark in a guppy tank.”
“Really, dear, that’s not a nice comparison.” Mrs Lawson winked and the sudden similarity between her and her son’s wicked humour was clear to see. “True, but not nice. I prefer to think of myself as a pussycat in a cage of mice. A much nicer comparison.”
“Oh yeah,” Tim agreed. “A pussycat it is.”
“Thank you, dear.” Laughing, Mrs Lawson patted his hand.
“I guess you’re going to take a holiday now?” Cindy asked Marty.
“What for?”
“You haven’t had a break in over a year.”
“You noticed? I’m touched.”
“We know you are, we’re just too kind to point it out to you.”
“You’re supposed to sharpen your claws on Tim now.”
“Yeah, but I find it so entertaining when she does it on you instead,” Tim said.
“Want to go back into the lounge room for round two?” Marty drawled.
“I already won round one.”
/>
“In your dreams.”
It was a little hard to believe that the two men bantering were a respected veterinarian and an equally respected businessman. It was harder to believe that they weren’t brothers.
“Don’t mind them.” Cindy obviously read her thoughts. “Inside every man is a little boy just waiting to bust out and create havoc. You’ve just got to go with the flow.”
“You like the flow.” Tim smirked.
Cindy smiled widely.
“Oh, please.” Marty picked up his glass. “Ugh.”
“Speaking of disgust.” Cindy turned her attention to him. “Are you still dating Marcia?”
Marty glanced at Belle before returning his gaze to his sister. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Last I heard, you were shagging her pretty regularly.”
“Cindy. Dear.” Mrs Lawson looked pained.
Mr Lawson just continued eating without a flicker of an eyelid. The man was truly a zen master. Or he just knew his son.
Most definitely the last one.
Belle couldn’t help but feel a little pang. Okay, so Martin Lawson was dating another woman. He was a man who loved women, she’d heard it from her own mother. So what? It didn’t affect her.
But she couldn’t help but listen closely.
“I’ve taken Marcia out a few times,” Marty replied. “I wouldn’t say it’s serious.”
“Really?” Tim gestured with his sandwich. “I saw her and one of her friends at a jewellers the other day. They were both trying on engagement rings.”
Maybe it was more serious than anyone thought.
Marty’s face was a classic. He actually paled a little under his tan. Okay, maybe it was more serious than even he’d thought!
“Oops.” Tim smirked. “Did I let a clanger drop?”
“You’re going to cut her loose,” Cindy predicted. “Unless you want it to be serious?”
“I can’t believe we’re discussing my love life in front of a guest.” Marty cleared his throat and reached for the jug.
The Lawson Boys: Marty Page 8