Page 41 of Spying Under the Mistletoe
“And she has no problem with that?”
“She knows why I’m working undercover. So no, she doesn’t have a problem with it.”
“Does anyone else at the school know?”
He shakes his head. “No. For now. But given the attempted kidnapping this afternoon, I’ll have to bring in my colleagues to help keep an eye on things.”
Ah, the mysterious colleagues he mentioned in the school parking lot after I was attacked. He told me he would explain once we returned to his place.
“You mean more substitute teachers? As it is, you were lucky Zoe started her maternity leave early. You won’t get so lucky with anyone else. No one is scheduled to take time off prior to the winter holidays.”
“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” he says in an equally mysterious tone. “Anyway, back to the girlfriend-boyfriend thing. Will you be okay with that?”
I swallow down more whiskey. The burn is still there, but not as strong as before. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really, but I thought I’d ask.”
I roll my eyes. “How considerate of you.”
He chuckles. “If there’s one thing you’ll learn about me, it’s that I’m a considerate man.”
Somehow, I don’t believe that.
“Well, I’m going to give the plan a hard pass,” I say. “Like I said, no one will believe I’m dating you.”
“Why not?”
“Because the entire time I’ve been teaching at the school, I haven’t once gone on a date.”
“You changed your mind when you met me.” He says it so simply, like he really does believe that would be possible.
“No one will believe that either.”
“So make them believe it. Consider it a matter of life or death.”
“I’m not a good actress,” I counter. Clearly, I’m also not a good lawyer. I can convince kindergarteners to not run around the classroom, but I can’t persuade Landon that his plan is nuttier than peanut butter.
“You don’t need to be. I’m not asking you to make out with me in the middle of the staff room…unless you want to. I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you do.” He winks at me.
I can’t help but laugh at that. “So how do we do this? Just waltz into school tomorrow and declare that we’re dating?”
He leans back against the couch. “I have no idea. I’m kind of rusty when it comes to having a girlfriend.”
Oh, goodie. An amateur.
Not that I’m a pro or anything when it comes to having a boyfriend—beyond the two-year relationship that left me with a broken heart.
“But you have had one?” I ask, a little surprised by his revelation. Rusty generally means the person has had experience with the given situation.
“I did in college, and then a more serious relationship after that. She was my last and only girlfriend.”
“Only?What happened to turn you off dating?” She must have really broken his heart or screwed with his brain.
“That’s nothing you have to concern yourself with. My past relationships have nothing to do with my ability to be your fake boyfriend.”
“I don’t know about that. Maybe you were a crappy boyfriend, and you’ll be an even crappier fake boyfriend.” My mouth tilts to one side in a challenge.
His smile matches it. “I’m sure I’ll be a quick study.”
