Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover #2) - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,17
you.” She returns her attention to the puppy. “I’m going to help Landon with dinner, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to fussing over you. Okay?”
Whiskey gives a little bark.
“I’ve got everything under control here,” I tell her. “You don’t have to leave him just yet.”
“Are you sure? I’m more than happy to help.”
“You are helping. With him.”
She smiles softly at me and then at the puppy. “All right. I’ll stay with you while Landon makes dinner.”
“I take it you’ve never had a romantic boyfriend?” I ask, mostly because the more I know about Chloe, the more I can use it to gain her trust. And if she trusts me, maybe I can eventually discover where Nikolai is hiding.
“I did. Or at least I thought he was romantic until he one day decided he’d had enough of being my boyfriend. He didn’t love me like he’d thought he had. A few days later, he texted me to tell me he didn’t love me after all. And that was the last I heard from him. So that kind of trumped the romantic stuff.”
“He’s the only romantic boyfriend you’ve had?” The guy sounds like a douchebag.
“I had a boyfriend in college—years before I dated Mark—but that boyfriend was more like a frat boy. He wasn’t known for being romantic. I’ve dated a few guys since Mark, but I’ve pretty much decided having a boyfriend isn’t worth the time. I’m so busy with my job and my artwork and my volunteering, I don’t have time for a boyfriend.” Her gaze returns to the puppy, and she scratches him behind the ear. “Isn’t that right, Whiskey?”
He gives her another little bark, and I inwardly cringe—and curse her fucking ex-boyfriend. He’s making my job a lot more challenging.
“What about you?” she asks. “Has a girlfriend ever broken your heart?”
I shake my head—since it’s mostly true.
“Are you the heartbreaker, then?”
And this is where I’m suddenly royally screwed. Because my answer might ruin the mission—or at least my part of the mission. I don’t expect Chloe’s the kind of woman who likes dating a man who was at one time a player. And I’m not referring to the type that plays hockey.
“I’m not a heartbreaker. I’ve been in relationships that died out over time, and we mutually agreed to go our separate ways.”
Again, all a lie.
I begin chopping the vegetables.
“Have you had many girlfriends?”
“Just three. My last girlfriend had a great job offer in New York City, and there was no way she could turn it down. I wasn’t interested in…I wanted to remain in San Francisco and teach here. So we went our separate ways and remained friends.”
“Has she been back to visit?”
“Yes…with her fiancé.” No point in having Chloe believe I’ve got some sort of fuck-buddy arrangement with my fictitious ex-girlfriend.
“Are you interested in falling in love and having a family one day?” she asks.
That’s the kind of question women who are looking to adorn their ring finger ask. They don’t want to waste their time with a man with commitment issues. But since Chloe’s made it clear she isn’t interested in having a boyfriend, I have no idea what she’s hoping to hear.
“Yes, one day.”
I assume being a kindergarten teacher doesn’t give you superpowers…like the ability to tell when someone’s lying.
“And there’s no special woman in your life you’re hoping to one day be the mother of your kids?”
“Not yet.” I give her a meaningful look. “But I’m hoping that changes soon.”
An adorably sexy blush spreads across her cheeks. At least my not-so-subtle hint didn’t go right over her head.
Whiskey places his paw on her lap, requesting her attention.
“I think he’s hoping the same.” I cluck my chin at him.
“And what’s that exactly?”
“That you’ll agree to see if this thing between us will go further than dinner.”
8
Chloe
At Landon’s hint that he’s hoping things will progress beyond dinner, my body turns Arctic cold. I wouldn’t be surprised if tiny polar bears are playing tag in my gut.
It’s not what you think, I tell it.
“You mean you want to have sex with me?” I didn’t intend to say it out loud, but that’s got to be what he’s thinking.
His eyebrows tug up his forehead. “I’m not the kind of guy who has sex on a first date.”
I manage to hold back a snorted laugh. He looks exactly like that type. He exudes sexuality.
“That’s good to know.” My girlie parts have the opposite opinion—they want to jump him now—but they don’t have a say