Rock Stars Do Like Christmas Stockings (Rock Stars Don't Like... Book 3)

by Nikki Ashton

  “Ethan will be okay with us if you want to stay with Stace,” Martha said to Skins as they wandered down the drive.

  “Nah, she’s going to have a sleep and make the most of the peace and quiet.” Skins wrapped an arm around Martha’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Thanks anyway.”

  “She’s definitely bigger with this baby,” Amber added catching hold of a careering Eliza. “Hey, stop running or you’ll fall over.”

  “I’m chasing Daddy.” Eliza pulled her arm from Amber’s hand and ran off in the direction of Jake, who was jogging ahead of them with Hendrix under his arm like a rugby ball.

  “You’ve got no chance,” Skins said. “Not with him as her father.”

  “I know,” Amber groaned and looked down at the empty buggy that she was pushing. “And what worries me is that it looks as though he’s about drop kick our son.”

  “Listen to Hendrix giggle though.” Martha nudged Amber. “It’s so cute.”

  Amber shook her head and sighed, a huge smile enveloping her face. She adored the big stupid kid whom she was married to and thanked God every day that he’d gone to find her when she’d run away. Before anyone knew that Abbie was Jake’s sister, Amber had mistakenly believed that they were having an affair, so rather than stay around to be rejected, she left without telling anyone. It was soon after that she found out she was having Eliza, but Jake didn’t discover he was to become a father until he finally tracked Amber down months later, just weeks before the baby was due.

  “Why does Jake look as though he’s about to launch Hendrix over the fence?” Luke asked as he jogged up beside them with Gigi in her Terrain Buggy.

  “Because it’s Jake.” Skins remarked.

  Luke shook his head. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Where’s Tom?” Amber asked, looking over her shoulder.

  She caught Abbie’s eye and smiled at her, making Abbie’s cheeks pink. Amber hadn’t been asking Abbie directly, but her response gave her an inkling that her sister-in-law did indeed know.

  “I think he’s taking a call on his cell phone,” she replied trying to act nonchalant. “I heard him say he’d catch us up.”

  Amber was right, Abbie did know where Tom was. She knew because she’d been with him in the coat closet when his cell rang out. She’d been desperate to kiss him after last’s night’s passionate, yet unfulfilling meeting against the wall, so as soon as she’d seen Tom leave the kitchen Abbie followed him and pulled him into the darkened closet. As soon as she’d gotten the top button of his jeans undone, his cell had chimed out with a call that Tom had been waiting for all week. It was his real estate agent in LA who was selling some property that he still had out there. He had to take it because the agent had obviously got up early to make a 5 am, LA time, call.

  “I bet it’s about that damn house of his,” Luke guessed correctly. “I told him to tell the guy to fuck off if he doesn’t want to pay the asking price.”

  Martha slapped a hand a Luke’s arm. “Oi,” she hissed and pointed down at a sleeping Gigi. “Watch your language. I do not want another child of mine to utter a profanity as its first word. It’s embarrassing.”

  Luke smirked and bit on his lip so as not to laugh out loud. Skins, Amber and Abbie, however, had no compunction to try to avoid it.

  “It’s not funny,” Martha protested. “How would you like it if you took your child to Rhythm Time at the bloody church hall, and he shouted shit every time the woman hit her tambourine?”

  “I think you have to blame Skins for that, babe.” Luke nodded at his friend whose shoulders were shaking up and down.

  “Don’t blame me, blame Stace.”

  “How do you work that one out?” Luke asked, manoeuvring Gigi’s buggy to avoid a tiny bump in the gravel driveway, almost wheeling into Martha’s legs.

  “Luke!” Martha admonished

  “What? She’s a princess, if I hit a bump, even that small, she’ll wake up and be a little horror all afternoon. Anyway, Skins hasn’t answered my question. How is my son’s potty mouth Stacey’s fault?”

  “Well she hit me with the tambourine, when falsely accusing me of cheating at cards, I should add. She hit me hard; it hurt, so I said shit.”

  “Hmm fair point I guess.” Luke nodded.

  “You two are idiots,” Amber groaned. “And you say I’m married to the dumb one.”

  “Yeah well you kinda are,” Luke replied. “Skins and me, we’re the ones with the brains, and we’re not idiots. We're just sticking up for the brotherhood.”

  It was then that they heard crunching gravel behind them. Luke turned seeing Tom approaching them in a run.

  “Talking of Dumb and Dumber, here’s Dumber,” Luke laughed.

  “Hey,” Abbie cried good-naturally. “That’s my brother and my…” her words trailed off.

  “Your? What Abs?” Skins nudged her with his elbow.

  “My friend,” she replied giving him a hard stare.

  “Abs we all know,” Luke whispered. “Well everyone except Jake.”

  Abbie’s mouth gaped open as she swung to look at Amber.

  “I’ve told Tom he has until Boxing Day to tell him,” Amber announced. “After that, well I have to Abbie. He’s my husband.”

  Abbie nodded and chewed on her bottom lip. “He’s gonna go bat shit crazy, right?”

  “Who is?” Tom asked pulling up beside them. “What’s wrong Abs?”

  Tom could see that something was upsetting Abbie. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her face was pale.

  “What’s going on?” Tom moved forward and put an arm around her. Fuck what Jake said about him having his hands on his sister, something was upsetting his woman. He leaned closer and whispered into Abbie’s ear. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  Abbie looked up at Tom through her lashes, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. “They all know and Amber is going to tell Jake if you don’t.”

  Tom heaved a small sigh of relief. “Yeah, I know. But why are you crying?”

  “Because he’ll go crazy and then…”

  “Shit, Jake’s coming,” Skins hissed. He and Martha manoeuvred themselves in front of Abbie and Tom so that Jake couldn’t see their interaction.

  “Wipe your eyes.” Tom rubbed away Abbie’s tears with his thumbs and gave her a quick kiss on the nose. “We need to talk about this.”

  Abbie sniffed and nodded. She felt as though her heart was breaking. Tom adored Jake, loved him like a brother, and they were just a bit of fun, so if Jake found out; well that would probably mean the end of her and Tom, and the thought crippled her. It wasn’t fun anymore. Abbie Sinclair had fallen for Tom Davies hook, line and damn sinker.

  “Come on you lot,” Jake called as he approached them. “What are you all hanging around like a bunch of virgins on a visit to a brothel for?”

  “What’s a virgin, Uncle Jake?” Ethan asked tugging on Jake’s jacket.

  Jake looked down at Ethan and grinned. “Ask your dad, Ethan. He’ll tell you.”

  “Jake,” Skins growled before taking his son and lifting him onto his shoulders. “Don’t listen to Uncle Jake, Ethan. He’s being silly. Come on then dude, let’s get this scarecrow thing on the road.”

  Skins walked off, with Ethan clutching at his dad’s beanie covered head. Amber took Hendrix from Jake and placed him in his buggy, while Luke took Martha’s hand as he pushed his daughter down the drive towards Rocco and Eliza, who were trailing sticks up and down the gate at the bottom of the drive.

  As he and Amber were about to follow, Jake turned and looked at Abbie. She and Tom were staring at each other, and Tom had his hand on Abbie’s shoulder.

  “What’s going on?” Jake asked taking a step towards them.

  Tom cleared his throat and opened his mouth to tell Jake everything. He’d had enough of sneaking around and if Jake kicked off about it then tough shit. He’d get over it eventually; it was no big deal. In any case, what was wrong with the idea of his best friend dating his sister? Tom
groaned inwardly; he knew exactly what was wrong - the number of women he’d had in the past.

  Being the only single member of the band for a while, before he got with Abbie, Tom had more than accommodated the hordes of women who wanted a piece of Dirty Riches. He’d had a couple of ‘relationships’, although it had to be said that both were carried out at the same time but generally he’d been a one-time performance type of guy. Usually, those performances happened every night; so no wonder Jake was antsy about Tom being anything but a friend to Abbie.

  With that in mind, Tom thought better of saying what he wanted Jake to hear and concentrated on what Jake wanted to hear.

  “She had something in her eye,” he said flatly and moved away from Abbie following everyone else down the drive.

  Jake lifted Abbie’s chin with his finger and peered into her eyes. They were certainly watering. “You okay?”

  “Yes, Jake, I’m fine,” she sighed. “Tom managed to get it out; I think it was a lash.”

  Jake threw an arm around Abbie’s shoulder and led her down the drive to catch up with everyone else. Something troubled him though. If it was a lash, why were both her eyes watering?

  “I’m sorry, Luke,” Valerie the local shop keeper grumbled. “But you have one missing, and the rules are; to get a prize you have to have all twenty scarecrow names and locations.”

  Valerie crossed her arms over her large chest and held her chin high, daring Luke to argue.

  “Come on Val,” he said, shifting Rocco in his arms. “Look at his face, he’s devastated.” Luke poked Rocco gently in his side, prompting Rocco to pout and feign a little whimper.

  “I’m weally sad Papa,” he cried and buried his face in Luke’s neck.

  “He’s not devastated,” Valerie stated. “Devastation is letting Ernie off his lead and him getting squashed in the road by Geoff Bramley’s tractor; it is not failing to win a tube of bubbles and a colouring book.”

  Rocco’s head shot up and he stared at Valerie, his bottom lip trembling. “Ernie got squashed by a twactor?”

  “No buddy, he didn’t.” Luke gave Valerie a hard stare. “What did you say that for? He ought to get a prize just for the trauma you’ve caused.”

  “Daddy,” Ethan bellowed breathlessly. “Ernie got squashed by a tractor.”

  Luke looked down at his side to see Ethan with a look of pure horror on his features that were the image of that of his father.

  “Daddy no,” Eliza screamed. “Ernie is squashed.” Eliza ran to Jake and buried her face against his jeans clad legs and started to sob. “No, Ernie’s squashed.”

  “Valerie!” Luke snapped. “Thanks for that, you’ve upset all three of them now.”

  “No baby,” Jake said bending down and pulling Eliza into his arms. “He’s not squashed; it's just Valerie being silly.”

  “Way to go Val,” Skins groaned as he knelt in front of his own son. “Uncle Jake is right, dude. Ernie is at home safe and sound.”

  “But sh-sh-she said he was squashed,” Ethan sobbed pointing an accusing finger at Valerie.

  “Well she was wrong.” Skins turned to Valerie and gave her one of his meanest stares. “I think you need to reconsider your stance on the prizes, Val, don’t you?”

  While everyone else comforted their children, Tom spied his chance and linking his fingers with Abbie’s, he pulled her behind the tall stand of greetings cards.

  “Hey, you okay?” he asked gently cupping her face with his calloused fingers. “You’ve been quiet all afternoon.”

  Abbie had appeared to be enjoying helping the kids solve the scarecrow clues, but Tom had been watching her closely. The smile was plastered on but there was no light in her beautiful blue eyes; she was definitely using her acting skills. Jake had stuck to her side pretty much, so they hadn’t been able to talk about what had happened in Luke’s driveway.

  Abbie nodded and sucked in her bottom lip. The fact that she was probably going to lose Tom was making her chest ache and a sick feeling was broiling in her stomach. He’d been clear that this was fun, and now he was being put under pressure to tell Jake; he’d be bound to end things.

  “I’m just worried about Jake, about what he’ll say, is all. If you tell him that is. We don’t have to.”

  Tom’s heart stuttered. If they didn’t tell him, Amber would and it would hurt Jake that Tom hadn’t. The only reason he wouldn’t tell Jake now was if he and Abbie ended things, and that wasn’t happening; not unless…shit, what if she wanted to end things?

  “Don’t you want me to tell him?” he asked dropping his hands to his sides.

  Abbie shrugged, feeling the loss of his touch on her cold cheeks. “I don’t know, what do you want?”

  “Well I don’t know, what about you?” Tom was scared to put into words what he wanted. If he told Abbie that he loved her, and she didn’t feel the same and wanted to end things, he wasn’t sure he could stay around for Christmas; it would just be too hard.

  Abbie took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. Okay, it was now or never, and if he told her to take a hike, then so be it.

  “Well I…”

  “Ah there you are,” Jake’s voice chimed in. “What are you doing?”

  Tom and Abbie both turned instinctively and seeing that they were standing in front of the beer cabinet Abbie opened the chiller door, and Tom reached in for two packs of beer.

  “Getting more beer,” Abbie chirped sweetly.

  “You don’t need that,” Martha said over Jake’s shoulder. “The drinks' fridge is packed and there’s more in the store room.”

  “Oh, okay,” Tom replied as he put the beers back. “I didn’t realise.”

  “How can you not realise that?” Jake scoffed. “You know that fridge of Luke’s is never less than 90% full.”

  “It was my idea,” Abbie said moving towards Jake. “I wanted to contribute something.”

  “Ah Abs, that’s sweet, but we all chipped in when we knew we’d be eating Luke and Martha out of house and home for a few days. Even though he tried to say it didn’t matter.” Jake rubbed the top of Abbie’s head, mussing up her blonde hair that had darkened without the constant Californian sun. “And you, as my baby sister, do not need to contribute. Okay?” He kissed Abbie’s forehead and pulled her into a hug.

  “Okay, Jake,” she gave a muffled reply against Jake’s chest.

  “Good. Skins has guilted Val into giving the kids a prize each so let’s go before she tells them that Santa isn’t real.” Jake whispered the last part and winked at Tom.

  Tom groaned inwardly realising that he still wasn’t off the hook for dressing up as Santa.

  “Shit,” he muttered to himself. “This is turning out to be the worst Christmas ever.”

  Chapter 8 – December 22nd

  Tom quickly glanced at the Santa suit laid out on his bed and shuddered, dragging a hand through his hair he turned away to look out at the garden through the window. His heart was pounding hard enough to lead a marching band, his skin was itching and his feet were desperate to run.

  “What do you think?” Jake asked.

  Tom blew out a long breath and looked at Jake. If he held eye contact with Jake then he couldn’t see the suit. It didn’t help though, because Tom knew it was there; waiting for him.

  “Are you going to try it on then?” Jake urged. “Because if it doesn’t fit I’ll get another one express delivered.”

  Tom scrubbed a hand down his face. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes dick weed you do, unless you want to upset the kids of course.” Jake gave Tom mock puppy dog eyes and a huge grin.

  Manoeuvring himself so that his back was to the bed, Tom lightly punched Jake in the arm. “You fucker, you know I wouldn’t upset any of those kids for anything, but…” He stopped talking and drew in a deep breath. “I just can’t, Jake.”

  “What do you mean you can’t, aren’t you staying here for Christmas?”

  “Well yeah, but…”

  “So no da
mn but about it. You need to try this on because you will be wearing it on Christmas Eve.”

  “Please, Jake,” Tom begged, the mere presence of the offending article causing his pulse to speed up. “Don’t make me do it.”

  “You’re doing it. If one of us does it the kids will recognise us. You’re the only one that can have a good excuse for not being there. None of us would leave the kids on Christmas Eve.”

  “They’re fucking kids, Jake. As if they’ve got the brain capacity to know what the parental morals and guidelines are around Christmas.”

  “Hey, my baby girl is astute. She knows these things.”

  Jake looked totally serious and Tom knew that he wasn’t going to win. He’d have to tell his piss taking friend the truth.

  “I can’t physically do it!” he snapped, as the feeling of nausea started to rise. “I’m fucking scared of Santa, alright!”

  There was a minute of total silence as Jake stared open-mouthed at Tom. Tom waited for a reaction that he knew would be of epic proportions and wasn’t disappointed. Jake let his head drop back and bellowed out a huge roar of unadulterated belly laughter. He stamped his foot and then doubled over, clutching at his sides, while tears of mirth slid down his face. Tom crossed his arms over his chest and waited…and waited…and waited. Finally, breathing heavily, Jake bit on his bottom lip and stared at Tom.

  “Finished?” Tom asked.

  Jake’s mouth broke into a leisurely smile and he nodded. “Sorry dude, but I think I actually peed my boxers a little bit.”

  “Well I’m glad you find it so amusing, Jake,” Tom groaned with a strained expression. “But I am actually struggling with even being in the same room as that fucking thing.” He pointed over his shoulder, towards the bed, where the Santa suit lay.

  “Seriously?” Jake asked, evidently unsure of Tom’s honesty. “You’re seriously scared of Santa?”

  Tom nodded and wrapped his arms around his chest, trapping his hands under his armpits. “Since I was four.”

  Jake blew out a breath. “Christmas for you as a kid must have been shit.”

  “Yeah pretty much.”