“It’s a good thing to see that you’re not wasting any time getting back on the horse.” Mrs Baxter giggled suddenly, her frail cheeks pinkening. “Oh, I didn’t mean-”
“Yes you did.” Mrs Harris retorted. “Riding!
The ladies all giggled in delight.
“I have to go.” Belle shot out of the chair at the sight of Marty opening the car door. “Now.”
“No wonder.” Mrs Harris nudged her friends, eliciting more giggles.
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.”
“You can trust me.”
“I don’t know you!”
“So get to know me.”
“I don’t know if I want to.”
That startled him. “You don’t? Why not?”
“Because you could hurt me like he did.”
“But I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know that.”
“So get to know me.”
They were going around in circles. “This is hopeless.”
“No, it’s not,” he said.
Taking a deep breath, Belle exhaled slowly. “I need space.”
“Jesus, Belle, seriously? Now?”
“Yes. Where are you staying?”
“We can’t just stop talking now.”
She started the car.
“Belle, for goodness sake, just-”
“Marty!” She hadn’t meant to speak so loudly, but it was enough to stop him mid-sentence. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I need to think and I can’t do it with you here.” Not with him beside her, sucking her into his protective, sexy, oh-so-yummy zone, making her horny and want to cry all at once, clouding her thoughts and igniting her fears.
In fact, she didn’t have a bloody clue what she was doing, but she knew she had to be alone to do any thinking at all. Too much was happening too soon. She felt equal parts fool and bitch for the way she was behaving, but she was totally confused, especially after what he’d said.
Marty was quiet while she pulled back out onto the road before finally giving her the address of the flats he was staying at, his ton
e low. When she glanced sideways at him, his expression was set, the silhouette of his face as he looked out the side window the only thing she could see.
The drive was done in silence and when she pulled up outside the flats, he opened the door and sat for a few seconds with one leg out the door and his foot braced on the ground.
In a sudden swift move, he turned, hooked a hand around her nape and drew her in for a surprisingly soft, quick kiss before releasing her to look steadily into her eyes. “If you figure out what you want, you know where to find me.” And then he was gone, the door shutting behind him, his tall, muscular figure moving across the car park and straight through an open door to vanish into the room beyond.
Numb, Belle drove home. His car still sat on the verge. With a sigh, she went inside to sit at the kitchen counter, sipping on a glass of water and staring unseeingly through the window at the garden. Her thoughts whirled in her head, her feelings a riot of emotions that left her twisted in knots.
The phone rang but she didn’t pick it up. It rang out, then her mobile started and rang out. After awhile her phone rang again and with a sigh she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Belle? How’d your date go?”
“It wasn’t a date, Holly.”
“It was something!”
“It was…”
“It was what?” Holly’s voice sharpened. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You talk to me, girl, or I’m coming over. With Mrs Mixen.”
“You’d threaten me with Mrs Mixen?” Belle gave a teary laugh.
“You’re crying.”
“No.” Belle sniffed. “No, I’m not. Seriously.”
“What happened?”
“I just made a fool of myself again.”
“Not telling me anything. What else?”
Before Belle knew it, she’d recounted the whole episode, every humiliating bit.
“Oh for…Belle!” Holly sounded exasperated. “When are you going to take charge of your life?”
“What?” Surprised, she stared at the phone before returning it to her ear. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not a virgin anymore, get over it. Do you think any less of every other girl that got her cherry popped?”
“Of course not-”
The Lawson Boys: Marty Page 19