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The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters: a laugh-out-loud romcom!. Jaimie AdmansЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters: a laugh-out-loud romcom! - Jaimie  Admans


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then…’ He nods towards the wall. ‘Shall I see if I can reach it or would you like another try?’

      ‘I think I’ve crawled into enough holes for one day, thank you.’

      He smirks again and I look away, trying to concentrate on the room I couldn’t see in the dark last night. He’s right about this being a tool room of some kind. There are work benches around the walls and mops and buckets and a broom propped up in one corner, an array of tools attached to the far wall. It’s only a tool room and it’s bigger than my entire flat at home.

      Julian reaches the box with no trouble and I frown at the back of his head as he pulls it out. Is there anything he doesn’t make look easy? I’d obviously nudged it closer with all my struggling. That’s definitely it.

      ‘So…’ I watch in anticipation as he stays crouched on the floor, smoothing his hand across the top of the dirty silver box. We could be holding a fortune here and he’s bloody feeling the indentation of whatever French wording is etched on the top.

      ‘Oh yeah, this is definitely treasure.’ He looks up at me with that smirk again. ‘Congratulations, you’ve found a bonafide French rat box.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      His face screws up in revulsion as he opens it. ‘You know. You put the rat poison in, the rats go into the box, eat the poison and can’t get back out again, so they snuff it in there. Well done, you’ve found the twenty-year-old bones of a dead rat. Here.’

      He hands the open box to me and I shriek and stumble away. ‘Seriously? I nearly died for a dead rat?’

      He bursts out laughing as he fits the lid securely back on the box. ‘Nothing like a bit of melodrama first thing in the morning. I didn’t realise getting stuck in a wall was such a near-death experience.’

      ‘I was alone! It was scary! I didn’t think anyone could get in to help me!’

      ‘Yeah, well, if you will insist on acting like a child and shutting the door in people’s faces. The solicitor never did say how old you are but I assume it’s in the single digits. Did someone have to sign a permission slip for you to come here?’

      ‘At least I’m not wearing a shirt that was clearly made for someone much younger. You must’ve got that from the children’s department,’ I say, even though he looks better than he did in the suit the other day.

      ‘Which is a step up from your current fashion choices, which seem to be showcasing the contents of a floor that hasn’t been cleaned since the nineties.’

      I start brushing off the grime that’s ingrained in my clothes, trying to ignore him as he starts undoing the buttons of his shirt. ‘Why are you doing that?’

      ‘Well, if you have such a big problem with my shirt then it’s only fair I take it off. If you wanted a proper gawp at my abs you should’ve just said so.’ He slides the shirt off his tanned shoulders, flexing his bloody huge biceps and rolling his six-pack.

      My eyes don’t know where to look first and I force myself to turn away so I don’t give him the satisfaction.

      ‘Okay, so…’ he says after a long silence. ‘Thanks for saving my life, Julian. Sorry for locking you out and for the crick in your neck from making you sleep in the car all night just so I could get a head start on the treasure hunting and keep it all from you.’

      ‘It wasn’t because of that.’

      He doesn’t say anything but I can practically hear the raised eyebrow.

      ‘Fine,’ I mutter. ‘Sorry. And thank you for rescuing me.’

      ‘You’re welcome. I’m always happy to help idiots in distress.’ He claps his hands together. ‘There, now that’s settled and it’s daylight, I’m going to have a look round the grounds and see what’s growing on our fifteen acres.’

      I hate the emphasis he puts on ‘our’. He’s doing it on purpose. ‘I was just about to do that.’

      ‘No, you were going to stay stuck in that wall until the end of time. Maybe after a few weeks of starvation, you’d have lost enough weight to free yourself.’

      I turn around and glare at him, the shirtless git. His mention of starvation has made me remember how hungry I am. Now he’s in, there’s nothing to stop me going out to get food. Surely the village can’t be far away.

      ‘Seeing as you trying to kill me with that look of pure hatred has failed, shall we go and have a look round together? I’m not sure I can trust you not to fall down a well or something.’

      I glare at him even harder but he continues smirking with his smug face and laughing eyes.

      That feeling of being alone out here earlier? That was a good feeling. I miss that feeling.

      Outside, the early morning sun is high in the sky and I squint up at it like a mole seeing daylight for the first time. It makes my eyes sting and start watering. Julian slides his sunglasses out of his jeans and puts them on. Of course, I didn’t think to bring sunglasses with me.

      He stands at the top of the main steps and takes a deep breath, looking around. Past our courtyard, driveway, and the little access lane, there’s nothing but fields and trees for miles in front of us, the rolling green of Normandy hillsides. There’s no road, no traffic noise, nothing but the occasional squawk of a bird.

      ‘It’s so peaceful here.’ Julian breathes in again and exhales slowly, and I do the same, trying to breathe in some of the French countryside and block out the man beside me, even though he hasn’t really done anything wrong. Yet.

      ‘I live in the centre of Glasgow,’ he continues. ‘You can’t go five minutes without a siren or a police helicopter or someone yelling at someone else.’

      ‘Same,’ I mutter.

      ‘Where are you?’

      ‘Outskirts of London, on a road with the nearest takeaway to a nightclub that chucks out at three a.m.’

      ‘Oh, I bet that’s fun,’ he says with a laugh.

      ‘Supremely.’

      He glances over at me. ‘Ever been to Normandy before?’

      ‘No. You?’

      ‘Nope. I work in Paris sometimes but it’s busy there. It’s nothing like this.’

      I work in Paris sometimes. I want to mutter it under my breath. Posh git.

      He looks at me with that smirk again and I swear he knows what I’m thinking. Instead of saying anything, he walks down the steps and I follow him, annoyed at myself for following him. I want to go in the opposite direction and be brave enough to look around on my own, but it didn’t exactly end well last night, and there’s a lot of land behind the château. Having someone around, even him, makes it seem less imposing somehow.

      ‘We have a moat,’ I say, rushing to catch up with him.

      ‘Have you won any prizes for your powers of observation lately?’

      ‘Ha ha ha,’ I say, just to let him know how utterly hilarious I think he is.

      He lets out a genuine laugh. ‘Yeah, I’ve got to admit the moat is impressive. It’s a shame it’s not cleaner. Can you imagine how awesome it’d be to literally swim around the house?’

      ‘I don’t want find out. I think there’s enough things already swimming around in there.’

      ‘What, like fish? Don’t tell me you’re scared of them too?’

      ‘I’m not scared of… there are fish in there?’

      ‘Yeah, I saw them last night. Maybe you were too


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