Tin Men: A Gripping Chrissy Livingstone Novel
Page 25
Clearly, she can’t.
Best leave her to it, then.
Best had.
Without another word, Chrissy Livingstone left the house, with her mother calling behind her. Where she would go, she’d no idea but she couldn’t stay inside another minute. Her car was out front. She climbed numbly behind the wheel, put the key in the ignition and pulled away from the house she’d grown up in—and vowed never to return.
Chapter Eighty
Two months later
“Feel that wonderful sunshine on your skin, Adam. Isn’t it glorious?”
“Mmm. Tell me about it.”
Chrissy raised herself off her sun lounger and leaned over to Adam, casting a shadow over his torso. She planted a light kiss on his shoulder.
“What was that for, and why are you diverting the sun’s rays off my body, Madame?” He still hadn’t opened his eyes.
“For being you, for being a rock when I need it most.”
“That’s what lovers do, isn’t it?” Adam sat up and looked at Chrissy, lifting his sunglasses off his eyes as he did so. She followed suit. A gentle breeze picked up a few wispy pieces of her blonde hair and blew them across her eyes, and she instinctively pushed them away. The late afternoon sun in Albi, in the south of France, was the ideal temperature to enjoy without becoming too hot. Thomas and Harry were lounging in the shallows of the pool a few feet away, sipping coke from a can each.
“You could have been a shit about it all. And I don’t mean Mum and what she’s done. Though that was right up there in the ‘worst family secret ever’ stakes, if ever a game were to be invented. She’d take top prize for that one.”
“Indeed. And I know what you’re talking about. But look, here’s what I think. You had your other life when we first met. Yes, you could have told me when it finished, but you chose not to, and you had your reasons. But I knew, because you’d changed. For the better, I might add. You’re far less stressed now, more present. I figured it would come out one day, and as long as you weren’t running guns or doing something dumb with your time…” He was smiling, his eyes dancing.
“Plastic kitchen storage tubs are a far cry from running guns, but I get the connection.”
“So, when we’ve finished here at your little French getaway, will you show me the rest of your portfolio?” He was teasing her, and Chrissy was lapping it up.
“I might not, actually,” she said coyly. “A girl needs her space, you know. Might save it just for me. Or. . .”
“Or what?”
“Or it could be the start of my LA office.”
“You’re going to expand plastic tubs into LA?” he teased her.
“Nope. But I enjoyed getting to the bottom of what happened—you know, with Dad and the boys in the tin. It brought back some of the excitement of days of old, but without so much of the danger. And I’ve been mulling it over.”
“I sense a biggie coming.”
“How would you feel if I became a private investigator?”
Adam raised both arms, hands together, and traced the letters of an imaginary sign in the air above him. “‘Chrissy Livingstone, P.I.’” he said with a smile. “A female Magnum, eh? And a lot better looking, I should add.” He leaned across for a kiss.
“I think that just sealed the deal, then.”
“Indeed, I think it did,” he said as he lay back down on his sun lounger and closed his eyes again.
Chrissy did likewise, resuming her position on her own lounger. She was glad everything was now out in the open. No more lies, no more feeling bad about away time.
Their patio fell silent again; the boys paddled quietly in the pool as the sun slipped down in the sky.
Two minutes passed.
Adam chuckled lightly.
“I’m married to a private investigator. It beats ‘plastic kitchen storage salesperson’ for a job title, that’s for sure,” he said, giggling. Chrissy reached over and flicked him hard with a powerful middle finger.
“Ouch!” he cried, as her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Picking it up, she gasped out loud at the contents. And the sender.
Adam watched as her brow furrowed and a smile began to spread across her face. “What is it?” he asked her.
“It looks like I’ve got my first case. The two divorce lawyers in LA, Alistair and Philip? They need a hand getting some movie mogul off their backs.”
Adam sat up on his lounger to face her. “That’s great news! Looks like you’re off the starting block already,” he said, grinning. “Can you finish your holiday, or have you got to rush off?”
“I’ll call them later and find out a bit more. But for now, Mr. Livingstone. . .” she said teasingly, turning her body towards him and making his eyes drop to her cleavage.
Adam cleared his throat at the sound of footsteps Chrissy obviously hadn’t heard. Two dripping wet boys approached them, hair stuck to their heads, their bodies lightly tanned from the French sunshine. They were the very picture of happy and healthy.
“What’s for dinner, Mum?” Thomas asked. “We’re half starved.”
Chrissy exchanged a grin with Adam. “Well, I know of some things that will never change,” she said.
Also by Linda Coles
Jack Rutherford and Amanda Lacey Series:
The Controller
Hot to Kill
The Hunted
Dark Service
One Last Hit
Jack Rutherford (solo)
Hey You, Pretty Face
A bunch of non-fiction
About the Author
Hi, I’m Linda Coles. Thanks for choosing this book, I really hope you enjoyed it and collect the following ones in the series. Great characters make a great read and I hope I’ve managed to create that for you.
Originally from the UK, I now live and work in beautiful New Zealand along with my hubby, 2 cats and 7 goats. My office sits by the edge of my vegetable garden, my very favourite authors are Harlan Coben and Michael Robotham and apart from reading and writing, I get to run by the beach for pleasure.
If you find a moment, please do write an honest online review, they really do make such a difference to those choosing what book to buy next.
Enjoy! And tell your friends.
Thanks, Linda