Page 45 of Spying Under the Mistletoe
She swivels around to me. “I assumed that wouldn’t be an issue.”
She’s right about that. Not because I don’t want to touch her. Because, fuck, there’s nothing I want more right now than to see if her skin feels as soft as it looks. But I’m also a professional, which means keeping my hands and all other body parts to myself.
“Did you know Tabitha was in your building last night?” I ask. “Do you have any idea why?”
“She was?” Chloe doesn’t even look in my direction when she replies. She removes a suitcase from her closet.
“Has she been here any time other than that?”
She places the suitcase on the bed and opens her top drawer. “Not that I know of. But it’s not like I’m watching the front door twenty-four seven.”
“Does she know you live here?”
“She might,” Chloe says, rummaging through the drawer. “I have no idea what personal information the PTA is privy to.”
She pauses what she’s doing, arms full of panties and other unmentionables, and turns to scowl at me.
I catch a view of black lace and light pink satin before discreetly turning away. The last thing I need is the image in my brain of her wearing them.
Too late, my brain warns.
“How do you know she was here?” Chloe asks. “Were you stalking me?”
“No. I went home after the restaurant,” I say, mentally scrubbing the image from my mind of Chloe in the bra and panties, and shift my attention to the various framed animated woodland animals on the wall. Chloe’s artwork. “But one of my colleagues has been watching your building for the past few days. He spotted her going inside.”
“Did your spy tell you how long she was here for?”
“About an hour or so.”
She dumps the pile of clothing into the suitcase. “She must have been visiting another tenant.”
“Can you think of anyone that might be?”
“Not really. There are a few single guys, but I can guarantee they aren't her type. There are also a few single women—again, not her type.”
“What about married men?”
“Yes, there are a few married couples, as well as couples living together.”
“Do you think she was visiting any of them?”
Chloe scrunches her lips together in thought.“Anything’s possible. For all I know, she’s having an affair with a married man in the building. Without knowing which apartment she was visiting, there’s no way for us to know for sure.”
After Chloe finishes packing,I drive her back to the town house, keeping my eyes open for anyone who could be trailing us.
Rule #1 when it comes to missions: Keep your eyes on your surroundings—and assume everyone is following you.
Spies and criminals are a lot cleverer than portrayed in movies and on TV. They don’t follow you from point A to point B, hoping you don’t notice them. The smart ones work as part of a tag team. One individual might turn down a street to look like they haven’t been trailing you for the last few minutes, and their partner takes up the pursuit.
Like with hockey players on the ice, communication is key.
So even though it looks like no one is following us, I always assume someone is. I never drop my guard. The moment you do, it’s game over.
At my town house, I park my jeep in the garage. Chloe’s car is on the street after Jayden fixed her tire and parked the vehicle there. “And just so you know, I’ll be driving us both to school tomorrow.”
“Why can’t I drive myself?”
“Because it’s harder to protect you that way.”
