by Nikki Ashton
“Okay, Luke,” Tom said removing his hand from Jake’s mouth and then wiping it on his jeans. “Pete’s here simply to deliver the invitations, which he’s doing out of the goodness of his heart, so stop pissing up Martha’s leg to mark your territory and shake his hand and thank him.”
“No fucking chance,” Luke muttered under his breath.
“Luke!” Martha snapped. “Just do it, otherwise you know what is off the agenda for at least a week.”
Luke gasped and looked affronted. “You wouldn’t?”
“I would.”
“Fucking hell.” Luke stepped forward, took Pete’s hand in a crushing handshake, and then dragged Martha out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.
“Okay, now he’s dragged his woman off to his cave,” Tom sighed. “If you come with me, Pete, I’ll help you load up your sack.”
“As opposed to Luke, who has just gone to empty his,” Jake said with a roar of laughter.
“Jake,” Amber called from the doorway. “What the hell did you say to Frankie Price?”
Jake winced and turned to his wife. “What you talking about, babe?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. He’s in there, sitting facing the wall. When I asked him why, he said because Eliza’s daddy had told him if he looked at Eliza again his nose would grow!”
Jake held his breath and watched as Amber thrust her hands to her hips. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were narrow; oh boy she was mad.
“He was flirting with her,” he explained.
“They’re bloody three and four years of age, don’t be so ridiculous. Now, get in there and put it right.”
“But he needs to learn early on in life what’s right and wrong, and giving my baby goo-goo eyes is most definitely wrong.”
Amber inclined her head and pointed towards the doorway.
“Now Jake or I’ll be making sure you don’t get any festive fun!”
Jake gasped. “You swapped notes with Martha didn’t you?”
“I mean it.”
With a sigh and a shake of the head, Jake sloped off towards the playroom, not noticing Amber’s sly little grin as he walked past her.
As Amber watched to ensure he went to the playroom, Stacey waddled past, and without a single word they high-fived each other. The members of Dirty Riches may be rich and famous, but it was their women that ran the show.
Chapter 13 – December 24th
As Stacey struggled to get comfy in the armchair, Skins had to wonder how on earth she was going to manage another three months of carrying their new son around in her belly. She was huge; much bigger than with Ethan,
“You okay, babe?” he asked, giving Stacey a chin lift.
“Hmm,” she replied distractedly as she wiggled her bottom onto the seat. “My stomach keeps getting in the way.”
Skins chuckled quietly and folded up the newspaper that he’d been reading. Unbelievably, Luke and his army of volunteers, along with Guy the party planner, had almost got everything organised for the party on Christmas Day. There were just a few minor things to sort out – things that Guy was dealing with, with strict instructions from Martha – and so everyone had been given some time off by Sergeant Major Mahoney. Thus, apart from himself and Stacey, the house was empty. The Mahoney and Hughes families had taken the kids into town to catch a film and they’d taken Ethan with them, so Skins had decided it was an ideal opportunity for Stacey to rest for a while. Betty and Noah had taken Lucia with them to see Martha’s uncle, Graham, who lived with his wife Sally on the other side of town. As for Abbie and Tom, Skins had no idea where they were. They’d disappeared just after everyone had left for the cinema. Skins guessed that they were probably doing the nasty somewhere.
As Stacey grumbled again, Skins pushed himself from the sofa and moved over to his wife. He leaned down and taking both Stacey’s hands, he gently pulled her from her chair. He then manoeuvred them around, dropped himself onto the vacated seat and dragged Stacey onto his lap.
“Bring your legs up,” he coaxed into Stacey’s ear.
Stacey did as she was told, and allowed Skins to pull them closer to him and then hook his arm around them. Reaching behind his back, Skins took the throw cushion and pushing Stacey forward, arranged it behind her. She then settled back as Skins kissed the tip of her nose.
“Better?”
Stacey sighed contentedly and rested her head against Skins’ huge shoulder. “Much.”
“I’m worried about you,” Skins sighed. “I don’t know how you’re going to cope with another few months of this.” Skins gently rubbed Stacey’s stomach.
“I’ll be fine, although I’m more worried about this one coming out than I was Ethan. You’d think I’d have been more nervous the first time; having no idea what to expect.”
“Maybe that’s exactly why you are worried; because you know exactly what you’re gonna go through.”
“It’s just the size of him,” Stacey groaned, laying her hand over Skins’ on her stomach. “He’s going to be huge.”
Skins couldn’t help but sit up straighter and preen at the thought of the big boys that he produced.
“Hopefully, next time I’ll have a petite little girl,” Stacey sighed.
Skins pulled his head back and stared at his wife, wide-eyed. “Next time?”
Stacey frowned. “You know I want a girl, and so I’ll keep going until I get one. I love my boys, but I want to be able to plait her hair and pick out pretty clothes for her.”
Skins grinned. “You could end up with an Eliza who hates anything girlie.”
“I might, but I’d bet money that as soon as Eliza hits puberty and starts liking boys for more than a game of football, then the girly things will have a lot more attraction.”
“Ooh don’t let Jake hear you talking about her liking boys. He’s already scared that Price kid half to death.”
Stacey shook her head and tutted. “Silly idiot.”
“Yeah babe, he is, but leaving Jake out of the conversation, I still can’t believe you’re talking about having another kid when you haven’t got this one out yet.”
“Ah,” Stacey scoffed with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be fine. So my vagina will probably stretch to breaking point, but you can always pay for me to have it tightened as a birthday present.”
Skins burst out laughing, his rich, deep chortle filling the room. “You’re amazing, you know that,” he said through his laughter.
“No I’m not, I’m lucky and I count my blessings.”
“What, pushing a kid out while you’re in agony is a blessing?”
“Yep.” Stacey nodded. “I’m lucky enough to be able to have kids, some women can’t and would give anything to be able to have that experience, no matter how painful. So yeah, it’s a blessing.”
Skins gazed at his wife and counted his own blessings. She was amazing, no matter what she said. Not many women would have stuck by him, like Stacey had, during the dark time of his drug addiction and subsequent rehab’; especially as they’d only been married for a few months after a whirlwind courtship.
Skins leaned in to softly kiss his wife. As Stacey opened her mouth to welcome him, Skins’ hand skimmed up the side of her body and cupped her breast. Stacey moaned softly into Skins’ mouth, causing a stirring in his pants; it didn’t take much, Stacey’s size and discomfort meant it didn’t happen as often as Skins would like.
“Skins’,” Stacey sighed.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I really want you baby.”
“Me too.”
Skins dipped his hand inside the waistband of the grey sweatpants that Stacey was wearing, and moved it towards the edge of her knickers.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” the Californian twang cut through the heavy breathing that was filling the room.
“Abbie. Shit!” Skins quickly pulled his hand out of Stacey’s sweatpants, and then rearranged his wife to hide his enormous hard on.
“Abs, what’s wrong?”
St
acey turned on Skins’ knee eliciting a pained grunt from him.
“Fuck,” Skins groaned.
“Guys, I’m so sorry,” Abbie sniffed. “I just came to get my jacket.” Abbie pointed to her padded jacket that was folded over the back of one of the armchairs.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Stacey asked, seeing the wetness on Abbie’s cheeks.
“Stace, babe, please stop moving.” Skins said through gritted teeth as Stacey moved in his lap again.
Stacey turned, looked down at Skins’ groin and tutted.
“What’s happened” she asked turning back to Abbie. “We thought you were with Tom.”
Abbie’s bottom lip trembled. “I was, b-b-but we broke up.”
The huge gasping sob that Abbie emitted, sounded as though it came right from her boots; it was loud and heart breaking.
“Oh God, Abs. Skins, push me up,” Stacey hissed over her shoulder.
Skins’ huffed quietly as he placed the palms of his hands against Stacey’s back. Once she was on her feet, Stacey waddled over to Abbie and pulled her into a hug.
“What do you mean, sweetheart,” she soothed. “Why did you break up?”
Skins stood up and hovered next to the two women, not sure what to do. He glanced at the door and decided maybe he should try and find Tom. He took one step to the door when Abbie’s sob stopped him in his tracks.
“He won’t dress up as Santa, and when I asked him why he bit my head off and told me to butt out.”
“He said that?” Stacey asked indignantly.
“You ‘broke up’ because of that?” Skins asked incredulously. “Shit, we would have divorced years ago if I’d got mad every time Stace wanted me to do something I didn’t want to.”
Stacey pulled a little away from Abbie and glared at Skins. “You are not being helpful!” she snapped. “Go and find Tom.”
Skins shook his head and left the room muttering about bossy women.
When Skins found Tom, he was in Luke’s studio thrashing out a noise on the drums. His hands fisted as the sight of Tom sitting at his beloved set. He did not like anyone playing his babies; especially if they were a guitarist.
“Oi,” he yelled over the booming beat. “Get off them, unless you want your fingers broken.”
Tom continued drumming, the sweat pouring off him, and the veins in his arms bulging. With his skin crawling at the abuse his set was getting, Skins moved towards Tom and snatched the sticks from his hands.
“Hey,” Tom protested. “I was playing.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” he scoffed, pushing the sticks into the back pocket of his jeans. “Now get the fuck off my stool and step away from my set.”
Tom huffed and swung his leg over the stool to stand toe to toe with Skins. “Fucking selfish prick.”
“I am not a selfish prick. How would you like it if I took Mrs Brady out of her case and took my temper out on her?”
Tom gasped. Mrs Brady was his beloved Gibson Les Paul. It was the guitar that he bought with his first pay check after signing their first record deal. It was the guitar that he’d played on their first album, and on their first number one single and Tom lovingly referred to it as Mrs Brady. The reason it got its name was because the shape of it was reminiscent of the ample bottom and narrow waist of the woman whom Tom did odd jobs for when he was seventeen; the woman he lost his virginity to – Mrs Brady. She was twenty-eight, raven haired and horny as hell.
“You dare touch Mrs Brady and I’ll kick you in the nuts!” Tom’s nostrils flared as he started to breath heavily.
“Well stay away from my drums and maybe I won’t touch her.”
Tom exhaled slowly and then gave a quick nod. “Fair enough, I won’t go near them again.”
“Good,” Skins snapped. “Now, what the fuck is going on with you and Abs? She says you’ve finished with her, or whatever other girly phrase it was she used.”
Tom visibly winced and then sagged. He ran a hand through his hair and moved to sit on a high stool that was placed in front of Luke’s microphone. Hitching one foot on the metal bar between the front legs, he scuffed the floor with his other boot clad foot.
“Come on, Tom. What’s going on?” Skins asked with a little softness to his tone. “I thought you were gonna tell Jake that you were together. I thought you loved her.”
Tom’s head shot up and he stared at Skins. “Luke’s a damn big mouth,” he growled. “I knew he’d spill his guts.”
Skins couldn’t help the small smile that twitched his lips. Luke was terrible at keeping secrets and couldn’t wait to tell everyone, except Jake of course, that Tom and Abbie were in love.
“Yeah although I think telling Jake you had his sister on his couch is one thing he’ll be keeping to himself.”
“He told you,” Tom cried. “That’s hardly keeping it to himself?”
“We don’t count,” Skins replied a little bemused.
“Of course you fucking count, knob head. If you all know, how long before Jake finds out? Shit,” Tom groaned. “He’s gonna kill me, after he’s made me hand clean his sofa.”
“Forget about the damn furniture, just tell me why you’ve finished things with Abbie. She’s in tears upstairs.”
Tom took a sharp intake of breath. “She’s crying?”
“Yes, you dick. What did you expect?”
Tom shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I didn’t think about it.”
That was a lie, he’d done nothing but think about how heartbroken she must feel; his own heart felt as though it was being crushed between two bricks, so why wouldn’t Abbie feel the same, if her feelings about him were what she said they were. Only minutes before their argument they’d made love while whispering words of adoration to each other. Then Abbie had asked him to wear the Santa suit while they played around, and Tom lost it. He’d felt physically sick and started to sweat and shake. To mask his embarrassment, Tom yelled that she could tell Jake to do his own dirty work; he wasn’t wearing the damn suit. Then he dealt the final blow and said she should butt out and if she couldn’t then they weren’t going to work, so it would be best to end things now.
He hadn’t meant any of it, and as soon as Abbie had scrambled into her clothes and fled his bedroom, Tom had regretted his words.
“So,” Skins urged. “What happened to make you split up with the woman you love?”
“Shit,” Tom muttered. He knew that there was no escaping it, he’d have to tell someone the truth. Jake evidently didn’t believe him, and out of Skins and Luke, while Tom felt more confident of Luke’s sympathy than Skins’, Luke wasn’t here and he needed help now.
“If I tell you the whole story you’d better not laugh,” he said quietly. “And promise me that you will not tell anyone else.”
“God, now I’m intrigued.” Skins’ shoulders started to shake with quiet laughter. “Hey, did you drop the bomb before reaching the target?”
“Fuck off!” Tom cried. “I do not suffer from premature ejaculation.”
“So, what is it then?”
Tom ran a hand down his face and then gripped the back of his neck.
“Okay,” he sighed. “Here goes.”
“Christ,” Skins muttered. “That is fucked up.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” Tom groaned. “What other thirty-nine year old man do you know that’s afraid of you know who?”
Skins shook his head. “Not that. No, it’s fucked up that Abbie wants you to dress up as ‘you know who’ while you shag her!”
“Did you hear anything past the fact that she wanted me to wear the suit?” Tom asked incredulously. “Or is that all you’ve been concentrating on while I’ve been spilling my guts for the last twenty minutes?”
“No!” Skins replied with hands fisted at his hips. “I heard you. You’re scared of Santa.”
“Shit!” Tom winced. “Don’t even say his name.”
Skins’ eyes narrowed as he inclined his head back. “You’re being serious?”
Skins sighed and scratched at his bald head. “I don’t know what to say, dude. I mean I’ll speak to Jake and get him to lay off about the suit, but you need to speak to Abs and tell her.”
“I can’t, she’ll laugh her damn knickers off.” Tom dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “She’ll be glad I finished things once she finds out.”
“No she won’t, she loves you.” Skins moved over to Tom and slapped his back. “I’ll send her down.”
“I can’t Skins. I can’t have her looking at me as though I’m some sort of weirdo.”
Skins chuckled. “But you kinda are, and she still loves you, so no worries.”
“Okay,” Tom sighed, knowing that Skins was right. If he and Abbie were to be together, he had to tell her.
“Oh and Tom, once you’ve told Abbie you both need to tell Jake that you’re together. He’ll be really hurt if Amber has to be the one to do it.”
Tom nodded; Skins was right again. “I know and I will, that’s as long as Abbie still wants me. After I tell her this little nugget, telling Jake might be immaterial.”
“Don’t worry she’ll want you.” Skins opened the door and then turned to face his friend. “So, is it just the fat guy or are there any others that you’re scared of; Mickey Mouse, Spiderman, what about the Teletubbies?”
With Tom’s cursing ringing in his ears, Skins went in search of Abbie, laughing to himself as he did so.
Chapter 14 – December 24th
As soon as Skins explained everything to Abbie, she sprinted off to find Tom. He was no longer in the studio, but she found him wandering the garden with Ernie hot on his heels.
“Hey you,” she whispered as she stopped in front of Tom.
“Hey.” Tom swallowed and lifted a hand to sweep Abbie’s hair from her face. “Where’s your coat, you’ll freeze to death?”