Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover Book 2)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  She doesn’t give them a chance to respond. She walks past them, chin lifted, and rushes from the room.

  I step forward to go after her, but I’m pulled up short by Ava’s hand on my arm.

  “Let me talk to her,” she says.

  I jerk away from her, intent on going upstairs. Liam steps in front of me. “Let Ava talk to her first.”

  I grunt. “Do you seriously believe that will make a difference? Ava lied to Chloe about how she knew me. Everyone dealing with the case has lied to her.”

  “Yes, but I know her better than anyone in this room,” Ava says. “You’ve only known her a few weeks. I’ve known her for a few years.”

  She doesn’t wait for my reply. She tells the agents she’ll be back and hurries after her friend.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I begin pacing the length of the living room. Fortunately, everyone has the foresight to keep out of my way. They practically dive out of my path, as if I’m in Santa’s sleigh filled with firecrackers, and it’s spiraling toward them.

  A wise move, I might add.

  While I pace, Liam, Adam, and the two agents discuss what to do next. Chloe used to be close to her cousin, and at one point, she meant the world to him. But that was when he wanted to be a cop.

  People change.

  When it comes to tracking down Nikolai, we’ve been wasting our time. He clearly doesn’t see my boyfriend status with Chloe as a threat.

  “Do you think Nikolai Orlov is aware of the contract on Chloe?” I ask the four individuals in the room.

  “If we knew about it, then I’m positive he does, too,” Agent Ramsey says.

  “Yet, he’s done nothing to protect her.” My gut tightens. Shrinks to the size of a puck. Like it wants nothing more than to hit her cousin in the head and knock him unconscious.

  “There’s always a chance he didn’t want to waste manpower on that. We’re doing the job for him.”

  “And he didn’t have an issue with it?”

  The two agents shrug—the move perfectly synchronized to the point of being almost comical. “It could be we misjudged his relationship with Chloe, and he had no intention of contacting her.”

  My gut tightens some more. If Liam’s team hadn’t stepped in, would Nikolai have reached out to her to protect her? Or would she have been disposable, like the men in her life her grandfather killed?

  Ava returns five minutes later with Chloe following behind her. Chloe doesn’t even look at me, a suitcase in one hand. Neither of them appears happy.

  Chloe heads straight for the front door.

  What the hell…?

  I steamroll my way over to her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to my apartment.” She doesn’t spare me a second glance. “Someone will pick up the rest of my stuff.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you won’t. Consider our fake relationship null and void. I’m officially dumping you.” She finally looks at me, pain and resolution swirling in the depth of those beautiful brown eyes. “At least that’s the version that will spread through the teacher’s lounge on Monday like an infestation of head lice.”

  I wince and then remind her, “It’s not safe. You have a contract on your head.”

  Without a word, she opens the front door. Whiskey barks at her. She smiles down at him. “I’m gonna miss you, little guy. Good luck with your forever home. Hopefully, you don’t have to wait long for it.” She doesn’t even look in my direction when she says it.

  She scratches him behind the ear and leaves.

  Fuck.

  “Adam, you’re back on surveillance,” Liam says as soon as the door clicks shut. Adam nods and follows after her.

  “What did she say up there?” I ask Ava.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you. It had nothing to do with the case, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Are you telling me you were swapping lesson plans up there?” I highly doubt it.

  Ignoring me, she turns to her husband. “I told you it would be a big mistake for Landon to pretend to be her boyfriend.”

  “No, you said it would be a mistake for me to pretend to her that she was my girlfriend,” I point out. “But that’s not what happened. She knew going into it that the relationship was fake. She was fine with it.”

  Ava shakes her head, and there’s some serious eye-rolling in her tone when she says, “Was she? I don’t know about you, but she didn’t look fine to me.”

  “That’s because I let her believe her cousin still cared enough about her to make sure she’s safe. I thought it would be easier that way.” For the case.

  Yep, I’m like a sundae. Two scoops of idiot with an extra helping of dumbass sprinkled on top.

  “She spent most of her life believing that she was better off not loving anyone who was male since the men she loved eventually left her,” Ava says. “Now, she believes her love will eventually kill any man she falls for. And she’s not exactly thrilled that I knew her cousin didn’t actually hire you guys and let her continue to believe that.” Ava crosses her arms and glares at me.

  My gut tightens even though I know I deserve Ava’s anger. I dragged her into the lie, and I have a feeling it’s going to take me a long time to make things up to Liam’s wife.

  “The part where she believes her love is deadly is crazy,” I say.

  “Is it? From her point of view, that’s exactly what happened. The only exception is her cousin. And from the sounds of it, she’d be better off if a troll threw him off a bridge.”

  As an author of middle-grade fantasy, Ava has quite an active imagination.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m in her next book—in the killing-off-the-people-who’ve-pissed-her-off way.

  “Well, I’d be more than happy to take on the role of the troll for her.” I turn to the agents, who are watching Ava and I go at it, their expressions stoic.

  But I’ve been around FBI agents and Navy SEALs long enough to speak fluent stoic. They’d also be more than happy to throw me off the bridge.

  “Does this mean I’m no longer working undercover as a substitute teacher?” I ask Liam.

  “For the time being, I think it’s best you maintain the cover. Despite what she might believe, she’s still in danger. And you never know, the FBI might come up with a much bigger fish to fry from all this.”

  By FBI, he means his team. But he’s hardly going to admit that in front of Agents Foden and Ramsey.

  Relief swims through me. It shouldn’t, but it does anyhow.

  “What about the boyfriend cover?” That’s the one I really want to know.

  Because despite what Chloe might believe, I’m not ready to walk away from the cover yet—or from her.

  26

  Chloe

  “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad at me.”

  I turn toward the classroom door to discover Ava standing in the doorway. It’s Monday afternoon, and my students have left for the day.

  “I’m not mad at you.” Not anymore, anyway. “I get why you couldn’t tell me the truth.”

  The words come out softly, with no trace of anger, but that doesn’t stop her from flinching.

  I meant it, though. It would’ve been a different story if Liam and his team had been working for the dark side. I should be doing cartwheels.

  And I would be—if Landon had been honest with me from the beginning.

  “Like I told you Friday night,” Ava says, walking toward me. “I’m really sorry I lied to you. Liam didn’t want me to be involved because he knew it would put me in an awkward position. That, and he knows I’m a crappy liar.”

  A laugh bubbles up inside me. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I would make an equally crappy lie detector. I guess that’s just another gene I never inherited from my grandfather.” Can’t say I’m too sorry about that.

  Despite everything, it feels good to be able to talk to Ava. She’s the only friend I have who I
can discuss my family with. My real family, not the fictitious one I tend to mention when asked.

  “You’re not by any chance here to tell me I should forgive Landon for lying to me, are you?”

  Ava snorts a laugh. “Definitely not. You have every right to be pissed at him. He should have been honest with you to begin with.” Her face softens. “While Landon and I might not have known each other in college like I told you we had, I have known him for several years. And the Landon I know doesn’t generally lie, unless it has to do with his job. That’s just the nature of what my husband and his team do.”

  Ava and I hug and it feels like a billion pounds have been knocked off my shoulders.

  “So what’s going on between you and that dreamy boyfriend of yours?” Kiera asks, entering the classroom as Ava and I step away from each other.

  “What do you mean?”

  Don’t look at his classroom. Don’t look at his…

  Oops. So much for that plan. I did a much better job not looking that way while I was talking to Ava about him.

  Kiera tilts her head to the side as if trying to get a good read on me. “Usually, you two are inseparable. Today you were doing everything in your power to avoid him. Not to mention you remind me of an ant who’s been dropped in a bucket and desperately wants to climb out.”

  Yep, that pretty much sums it up.

  She looks at Ava for confirmation.

  Ava shifts on her feet, suddenly looking like that ant too. “I should probably get back to my class and double-check everything’s okay.” She can’t get out of the room fast enough, and I do my best not to laugh.

  “I realized that we were rushing things and…” I say to Kiera, “and maybe dating a colleague isn’t a good idea.”

  Sounds like a reasonable explanation.

  Too bad Kiera doesn’t buy it. “This doesn’t have anything to do with your abandonment issues, does it?”

  “I don’t have abandonment issues.” I pick up the picture book left on Anton’s desk and leaf through it. I’ve always loved this illustrator’s work. It’s similar to my style, but also very different.

  “So you’re saying that after what happened with your fathers and ex-boyfriend, you’re not scared that the next guy will do the same thing? That’s why you’ve been avoiding dating until recently when you met Landon, isn’t it?”

  The brush strokes look so real, you would never guess it was done on the computer.

  “Chloe?”

  I let out a hard breath and walk to the bookshelf in the reading corner.

  “Like I said, I don’t have abandonment issues.” Not anymore, at least.

  Now I have the-boogeyman-will-kill-any-man-I-love issues.

  You know, the same issues every red-blooded American woman has.

  Or not.

  “Right. And the next thing you’re going to tell me is that your eyes are bloodshot due to allergies.”

  “You never know. I could be allergic to…um…Christmas trees.”

  Smooth, Chloe. I mentally roll my eyes.

  “Well, that would really suck, given that you live for Christmas. But it’s not that, so spill it.”

  Where’s Landon when you need him…even if I don’t actually want him around? Before Friday night’s big revelation, he was in my classroom as soon as the final bell rang.

  I guess he finally got my hint that I don’t want to talk to him again. Ever.

  But what did he expect would happen once the truth came out? If he lied about that, what else was he lying about?

  “Chloe, you’re my best friend, and I love you, dearly. You know that.”

  I smile at her. “I do know that.”

  “As your best friend, it’s my duty to take you out tonight and stage an intervention.”

  I laugh. “Sounds great, but I’m volunteering tonight, and afterward, I have to sew an army of pint-sized elf hats.” That’s one advantage of moving back to my apartment. I spent the last two days attempting to forget everything while busying myself with the hats.

  And watching every Christmas kid’s show I could find on TV.

  Because who needs Hallmark Christmas movies when you’ve got The Grinch and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?

  That’s right—holiday romance movies have officially been banned from my apartment.

  “You’re not volunteering tomorrow night, right?” Kiera asks.

  “Nope. But I’ll still be making elf hats.”

  “Perfect. Then we have a date. You. Me. Lots of spiked eggnog. And Project Elf Hat.”

  I grin, remembering exactly why I love her. “All right, you have yourself a date.”

  After she leaves my classroom, I half expect Landon to enter, purely out of habit. He doesn’t. Instead, it’s Isabelle who walks in through the main doorway.

  “Hi. Is there something you need? I’m about to leave.” I smile at her even though she’s just one more reminder of Landon.

  She smiles back, sympathy in her eyes. Sympathy I can handle. Pity is another story.

  And if I were to hazard a guess, I’d say she’s aware that my codename is now Black Widow. Except instead of being the one who kills men, they die by association, with me being the common denominator.

  “I’m here to make sure you get to your car safely,” Isabelle says.

  So, Landon’s old job.

  “It’s not necessary,” I tell her. “I know the truth. All that was just a ruse so Landon could use me to get to my cousin.”

  She shakes her head. “The part about your cousin hiring us was a lie—Landon should never have let you believe that—but the part about the contract out on you isn’t.”

  “But why would anyone want to kill me? I’m not part of my grandfather’s world. Hell, I’m not even part of the family anymore. He made sure of it when he forbid my relatives—including my own mother—to contact me.”

  And because his money and approval meant everything to them, they willingly obliged.

  Except for my mother. She did it for love.

  She did it for me.

  “I’m only a useful pawn in the turf war if my grandfather gave a damn about me.”

  It’s not like he has to stress about me turning over family secrets to the state. They know a lot more about the “family” business than I’ll ever know.

  More than I’ll ever want to know.

  “I think you might be wrong about that,” she tells me.

  “I’m definitely not wrong. My grandfather has never cared about me the way he did my cousins. It hurt me as a kid, but once I realized the monster he really is—and I don’t mean the blue kind who eats cookies—it didn’t bother me anymore.” I slip my coat on and grab my purse from my desk chair.

  “Maybe the contract has nothing to do with your grandfather and everything to do with Nikolai.”

  “I haven’t spoken to him in years, so I highly doubt that. Killing me is as likely to flush Nikolai out of wherever he’s hiding as Landon pretending to date me was.”

  I head for the classroom door. Isabelle walks alongside me.

  A memory slips in of Landon’s strong hand holding mine as we walked to his jeep, and my heart clenches.

  It’s only been three days since I was in his arms and since we last kissed, but I miss him the way you miss the sun after countless days of rain.

  Which is exactly why I need to volunteer tonight. The seniors always know how to brighten my day—even when it’s their days that I’m supposed to make cheery.

  “See you tomorrow,” I tell Isabelle before slipping into the driver’s seat. Even though I doubt there’s an actual contract out on me, Isabelle will still be here tomorrow, pretending to be the school’s receptionist. Landon’s colleagues are convinced Nikolai will eventually contact me.

  Based on what I now know, probably not.

  As I drive past the familiar black SUV, I wave at Adam, knowing that he’ll be following me to the retirement residence…and then following me home afterward.

  “Where’s y
our hot boyfriend?” Agatha asks, peering over my shoulder. “I do so love it when he joins you. He’s a delightful piece of eye candy.” She winks at me, and I laugh.

  “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” I don’t have the heart to admit Landon and I broke up.

  Or whatever it is when you’re no longer with your fake boyfriend.

  Everyone here loves him. It didn’t take long for him to charm his way into their hearts once he started volunteering with me.

  “So, where is he?” Bethany asks, also surveying the room.

  “He had something he needed to do tonight and was unable to join me.”

  “What did he have to do that was more important than hanging out with a bunch of delightful old ladies?”

  I grin at her. “Believe me, it would have to be super important before he skipped on hanging out with you.”

  I mentally groan at how at some point, I’ll have to come clean with everyone here and tell them he’s never coming back. Agatha and Bethany will no longer have their favorite piece of eye candy to drool over.

  And Samuel and the men will no longer have their favorite poker player—that’s right, they finally convinced Mathilda to let them play poker again.

  By favorite, I mean Landon sucks at poker and loses to them about ninety-nine percent of the time.

  I spend the next two hours helping with the different recreational therapy sessions designed to keep the seniors active, both physically and mentally.

  The “Where’s Landon?” question pops up numerous times. And each time I’m asked it, I inwardly curse him for instilling himself into so much of my life in such a short span of time.

  I have no idea how I’m going to break the news to them that he’s no longer volunteering here.

  Maybe I can concoct some super cool story to explain his absence. Something dramatic that will rival The Titanic.

  Minus the iceberg.

  “I didn’t know you work here,” a man says behind me. I turn around to find Eric, the good-looking man who helped me the other day with the Christmas decorations in my storage locker.

  He smiles at me. It’s a friendly smile, but it doesn’t have the same impact as Landon’s sexy smiles. They really should be registered as lethal weapons—no woman can survive them.