Rock Stars Don't Like Big Knickers Read online

  Rock Stars Don’t Like Big Knickers

  By

  Nikki Ashton

  Text Copyright © 2014 Nikki Ashton

  All Rights Reserved

  No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are fictitious, and any similarities to real life are purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  More Books By Nikki Ashton

  Acknowledments

  A massive thank you for reading this, my fourth book, I can’t express how much your support means to me. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’ve loved every minute that I’ve spent creating Luke and Martha, and I just hope you all agree that the effort was worth it.

  Thanks to Wes Fuller for his brilliant cover – it’s just what I wanted, you’re a star Mr Fuller. Also to Gwyn and Hayley for their editing and proof reading, once again making my life a little easier. To Chloe Walsh, a brilliant author who I’ve become friends with on FB. It’s been great to have someone to chat to about deadlines, late night typing and storylines and you’ve been a huge support. Thank you also to everyone that has joined my FB page, Nikki Ashton’s Books and also to my twitter followers. It’s a massive boost when you message me how much you love my characters and ask when the next book is out, it makes me feel realise that I’m doing something right.

  Thank you to all my family and friends, especially David, whose continued love and support keeps me going when my mind goes blank. I love you loads even though you couldn’t think of a decent band name.

  To my work colleagues, you all brighten up my day and I won’t forget you when I’m showbiz!!

  Finally to my amazing nephews and nieces, because Harry Barlow thought it would be a nice thing for me to do. So, thank you, Phil, Katrina, Grace, Max, Euan, Ella, Libby, Jack, Evie, Harry, Ellie, Lily, Kitty, Nancy and Lennon. Not forgetting my great-nephews Euan and Ben.

  Chapter 1

  “Are you sure I can’t interest in you in some ‘TENA Lady’ pads, Martha? I bet you could use them, and they’re on special; buy one get one free.”

  Martha Bright, aged thirty three, had never been so embarrassed. Well, except for when she’d walked through the village with a pair of knickers sticking out of the bottom of her denim shorts, now that had been pretty hideous. However, for Valerie to announce to the whole shop that she was getting to an age where she needed ‘TENA Lady’ pads was just mortifying. She had a very strict beauty regime. Martha liked to think that her wrinkle free face, long, curly, plum coloured hair and usual outfit of t-shirt, jeans and Converse trainers made her look more like twenty-five. She obviously wasn’t kidding anyone – but then when you had a seventeen year old daughter the chances are you’re either almost middle aged, or your pregnancy absolutely obliterated your pelvic floor muscles. Maybe Valerie thought she was being helpful.

  Martha shook her head while giving Valerie, what Martha’s daughter, Betty, liked to call the ‘death stare.'

  “I’m fine thanks Valerie, I keep very dry. I do Pilates, it helps immensely.”

  “Okay lovey, whatever you say, but I swear by them, and you do, don’t you Aggie?”

  Aggie, a grey haired, cardigan wearing, old aged pensioner of about eighty, nodded and smiled at Martha.

  “I’ll keep it mind,” Martha mumbled while searching for the exact money in her purse.

  “Ooh, I know what I meant to tell you,” Valerie cried as she took the money from Martha. “The ‘big house’ has finally been sold.”

  “I know,” Martha smiled. “I’m going to be working for Mrs Hendricks, the new owner. There was a job going as a cook and housekeeper up there. I got the call yesterday to say I’d got it.”

  Martha was already thinking about the huge, state of the art kitchen that she would have at her disposal. Cooking was her passion, and her dream was to open a restaurant, but for now being housekeeper would have to suffice. The job was perfect for her, it was from eight in the morning until six in the evening, unless she needed to stay later for a dinner party. Plus it was on her doorstep, as she owned the old Gatekeepers Cottage at the bottom of the drive to the big house.

  “No, I don’t think it’s a Mrs Hendricks,” Valerie said thoughtfully. Ignoring the queue of customers, she plonked herself down on a stool behind the counter and leaned across to Martha. “You remember that band Dirty Riches, and that drummer who had to go into rehab?”

  Martha nodded slowly with her mouth agape. Of course, she remembered Dirty Riches, she had every album that they’d made and the thought of their drummer, Skins Ballard, sent a bolt of excitement through her body.

  “Yeah,” she breathed. “I remember.”

  “Well, it’s not him.”

  Martha sighed. She felt herself getting slightly agitated. “I know it’s Mrs Hendricks; she’s the one who interviewed me.”

  “No, I’m sorry but you’re wrong, maybe she just works for them.”

  “She told me she needed help because she and her husband work full time as architects, and her mother has just had a small heart attack.”

  “Yes that’s right, but the mother doesn’t live with her. The mother lives with Mrs Hendy whatever her name is brother. He’s the one who bought the house. It’s the lead singer Luke Mahoney.”

  Now Martha’s heart started to pump as though it was bench pressing two hundred pound weights. Luciano ‘Luke’ Mahoney was the sexiest, hottest, raunchiest rocker on the planet and had been Martha’s schoolgirl crush when she was fifteen. They’d both lived in the same Cheshire town as kids and went to the same senior school. Luke, a year above Martha, had been wild and dangerous even then and every girl in the school wanted him. Unfortunately, according to rumour, Miss Chambers the trainee PE teacher had him, frequently, during break time in the PE equipment cupboard.

  “Luciano Mahoney, shit.” A shrill little voice called at the back of the queue.

  “I know Aggie, isn’t it exciting.” Valerie grinned widely and getting off her stool, dismissed Martha by moving onto the next person in the queue.

  “Mother, what on earth are you looking at on that computer? You’ve been on it for almost two hours.” Betty looked over her mother’s shoulder, her long auburn hair falling in front of Martha’s face.

  Martha brushed Betty’s hair away and clicked on the x to shut off the internet.
r />   “Nothing, just checking up on my new boss.”

  As soon as she’d got home, Martha had called Mrs Hendricks, nee Mahoney. She was indeed Luke’s sister and was doing him a favour by conducting the interviews. Martha would be working for her schoolgirl crush and his mother.

  “On Wikipedia? You do know that allegedly they just make that stuff up, don’t you?” Betty moved away and flopped down on the sofa, dragging Ernie, their Jack Russell, onto her knee.

  “I’m not that bothered, I just wondered what it said about him. I haven’t just been looking him up you know.” Martha turned to the bookcase and pretended to look for something to read, despite having a Kindle full of unread books. She didn’t want Betty to see the blush at her cheeks – she’d actually spent more than two hours reading up on Luke.

  “Whatever,” Betty replied throwing a disdainful look at her mother. “According to Em they were quite a good band, or so her dad said. I was like, if your dad likes them then they must be ancient, and she was like, ‘oh I’ve seen a picture they’re really hot and my dad says they’re totally amazing’.”

  “You weren’t ‘like’ anything, its ‘you said’, not you were ‘like’.” Martha tutted, she hated the way her daughter and all her friends spoke. It drove her crazy.

  Betty gave Martha her own version of the ‘death stare’. “He’s from round here anyway, isn’t he?”

  Martha sat in the armchair next to Betty and nodded. She then broke into a huge grin as Ernie jumped from Betty’s knee onto Martha’s, now it was Betty’s turn to tut. They often argued about who Ernie loved more, and generally because she fed and walked him, Martha usually won.

  “He was a year above me at senior school.” Martha’s heart started to beat faster as she remembered the last time she’d seen him.

  She rested her head back against the chair, closed her eyes and recalled images of Luke in his school uniform. Even then he was cool; he wore his tie undone, his blazer collar up and usually had a pen behind his ear, which for some reason when she was fifteen looked great. Most of the pictures that Martha had Googled showed that the pen had been replaced with a cigarette for a while, there was no tie or blazer, just low slung jeans that rested on slim hips, rock band t-shirts that were tight enough to show off his biceps, abs and perfect arms, one of which was covered in a sleeve of tattoos. His hairstyle appeared to have changed many times over the seventeen years since she’d seen him last, from buzz cut, to shoulder length, a Mohawk and now an old-fashioned short back and sides, with the top longer and unruly.

  “What are you smiling at?” Betty nudged Martha’s foot with her own.

  Martha’s eyes flickered open. “I wasn’t, I was relaxing. Anyway, I thought you were going out tonight, shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

  Betty screwed up her lightly freckled nose. “Yeah, I will soon. I’m not sure I can be bothered. Em is chasing after Liam, again, and I’m not sure I want to watch the carnage of him breaking her heart when he snogs Heidi Jones in front of her. Could you speak to her, Mum? You know, tell her to leave it and find someone else to crush on.”

  “What about her own mum, doesn’t she give her advice?” Martha stroked Ernie’s tummy as he rolled onto his back displaying everything he had to offer.

  “No way would she talk to her own Mum. God she’s ancient, she’s about forty-six.”

  Martha sighed and held back a smile. There were advantages of having your daughter when you were barely sixteen, her and her friends didn’t class you as ancient.

  “That’s not exactly ancient Betty. Em should try and talk to her; she might actually give her some good advice.” Martha knew Emma’s parents, Carly and Andy, and they were perfectly pleasant, normal parents, who were, unfortunately, past it at forty-six.

  “It is compared to you. You’re like, dead young compared to most of my friends’ parents. Alex and Josh think you’re a real MILF.”

  Not sure whether to preen herself at still having the ability to be attractive to a teenage boy, or to feel aggrieved that she was being discussed in a sexual nature by her daughter and her friends. Martha pushed Ernie onto the floor and went to make a cup of tea.

  “But I really like him Martha, in fact, I think I love him.” Em, Betty’s best friend, wiped her tear-stained face with the back of her hand.

  The girls had gone out to the local pub and, as Betty had predicted, Liam had snogged Heidi in front of Em. This had resulted in Em throwing a pint of cider and blackcurrant over them both before being thrown out of the pub still clutching a handful of Heidi’s acrylic hair extensions.

  “You think you love him, but you don’t really sweetheart,” Martha said. “You’re seventeen; you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

  Betty laughed and looked at Martha with an arched eyebrow. “She knows what she’s talking about Em.”

  “Me and your father were different,” Martha said. “I never thought that I loved him.”

  “No, you were just drunk,” Betty scoffed.

  Martha had never lied to her daughter about her parentage. Betty was the result of drunken, unprotected sex on the school field, at a low point in Martha’s life. Martha didn’t tell the father that she was pregnant, mainly because she had no idea what his name was or where he lived. Her parents reacted in the worst possible way, damning her as a slut and throwing her out, not wanting anything more to do with her. But no matter what they thought Martha, and more importantly Betty knew that she had just been going through a rough time. With parents like hers, Martha needed to feel loved, and at that moment love came in the form of a drunken screw on the school field.

  “Look Em,” Martha continued. “I don’t really think that Liam seems like the sort of person who is ready to be in love, not if he’s willing to snog someone else in front of you. Especially when he knows that you like him.”

  Em sighed and slumped her shoulders. “I suppose, but he’s like so hot, and if I hadn’t tasted him once, it might not be so bad.”

  Martha held her hand up. “I don’t want to know anymore. I just hope that you were careful.” She gave Betty the death stare. “I hope that both of you are.”

  “Oh God Mum, what do you take me for? I don’t sleep with every boy I kiss you know. Urgh, I don’t want to talk about it with you anyway. Come on Em, let’s get to bed before she starts going on about condoms and femidoms.” Betty pulled Em up from her chair and the dining table. “Night Mum.”

  Martha reached up for Betty’s kiss. “Night sweet pea, see you in the morning.”

  “Night. Oh and Mum?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Don’t stay up all night Googling Luke Mahoney.”

  Chapter 2

  The morning air was cool and crisp, biting at Martha’s lungs as she ran along the road at a steady pace. She loved this time of the morning, when everyone else was sound asleep, and it was just her and Ernie pounding the road while the birds twittered their early morning songs and the late February sun gradually brought everything to life. She had such a busy life, being a single parent and working for a catering agency that running was the only chance she had to find some peace and quiet. She hoped that her new permanent role at the house would still allow her that pleasure.

  Turning the corner, with their house only feet away, Ernie ran on ahead. His usual habit was to go in through the dog flap, run up the stairs and jump on Betty, licking her face until she woke and stroked his belly, and this morning was no exception. Slowing to a walk, Martha smiled, imagining what expletives would come out of Betty’s mouth this morning after a night in town last night. Martha had heard Betty, Em and another friend Ruby come in at about three. All trying desperately to be quiet, but their drunken stage whispers had woken both Martha and Ernie.

  Martha loved Betty immeasurably and was proud of the young woman that she was becoming. Yes, Betty could still throw tantrums worthy of a four year old, but generally she was a good kid and was grateful for the sacrifices that Martha had made for her. She’d never once felt
she missed out on anything. It had been extremely difficult for Martha having Betty at sixteen, particularly as Brian and Thelma - Martha refused to call them Mum and Dad - had kicked her out, calling her a whore.

  Luckily, Martha had her mother’s estranged brother, Graham, who was willing to help to provide for them. With his help and support Martha had been able to put herself through catering college once Betty had been born. Then, if he wasn’t her hero enough, Graham gave Martha the deposit for Gatekeeper’s Cottage, once she was earning a regular wage and could afford a small mortgage needed for the run down property. Between them, Graham and Martha worked tirelessly every evening and weekend to make a lovely home for her and Betty.

  As Martha put her leg up on the low wall surrounding her garden to do her stretches, she heard the buzz of the electric gates to the ‘big house’, as the locals called it. Slowly, they glided open. Pulling her arm in front of her and stretching it across her body, Martha watched as a huge Mercedes four by four, with blacked out windows, roared down the drive and screeched to a halt just outside the gates. As the door opened, a mixture of high anxiety and excitement fluttered in Martha’s stomach. She pulled down her running vest and smoothed back her hair that was tied into a high pony tail, then surreptitiously sniffed her armpits before standing up straight and plastering on a smile, all this despite the urge to vomit.

  A long denim clad leg, was first to come into view, followed languorously by the rest of the driver’s body.

  “Hi.” The deep, sensuous voice resonated in the early morning quiet. “I’m Luke, your new neighbour.” He nodded in greeting.

  With her heart beating twice as fast as normal, and her stomach turning over like a cement mixer on speed, Martha stood statue like. He was here, Luke Mahoney was standing in front of her and she couldn’t believe it. Slowly she moved forward and took the hand being offered to her. She held back a gasp as she looked up to his smiling face. He had definitely aged well, never mind a fine wine, this man was a damn, fine, splendid crate of Chateauneuf Lafite. His eyes, a deep emerald green, shone brightly from underneath his black hair that had flopped into his eyes, his strong jaw was covered in a dark, sexy stubble, his right eyebrow was pierced and his left arm was covered in tattoos. Martha’s eyes travelled down his body, he was obviously in shape as the faded Nirvana t-shirt he wore hugged him in all the right places. His biceps bulged just the right amount and his jeans hung enticingly low on his hips, held with a thick, buckled belt. Always a sucker for footwear, Martha dropped her eyes down further and almost groaned aloud – black, scuffed, biker boots. Christ, this man was pure sex and after years of watching him on T.V. and following him in the gossip columns, she finally got to see him again and it was petrifying.