Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover #2) - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,19

next evening, Landon, Kiera, and I head to the gym, where the PTA meeting is being held. The three of us stuck around after the bell rung, prepping for tomorrow.

Tabitha is talking to a fellow PTA mother when we enter the gym. She’s looking as elegant as always: blonde hair pulled back in a sleek bun, a camel-colored pencil skirt skimming her slim body, her white blouse no doubt from a high-end designer.

I, on the other hand, look as far from elegant as you can get. My pale-pink knit top has a red paint splotch on it from the Thanksgiving art project we were working on in class today. One of my students accidentally sent his paintbrush sailing across the room, and it hit my boob.

And no amount of dabbing it with a wet paper towel would remove it.

Quite the contrary.

The moment Tabitha spots us walking toward her, her gaze drops to the stain. Her mouth tilts to the side.

Landon’s smirk is wickedly sexy; Tabitha’s just spells trouble.

“It’s nice to see you again, Chloe.” Her tone implies the opposite. “What do we owe the pleasure of your company? You don’t usually attend our humble meetings.” Her gaze cuts to Landon and travels lazily down his body.

Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t necessary.

I smile sweetly at her while dreaming about chocolate. Rich, creamy Lindt chocolate. The kind that leaves you groaning with pleasure. That does the trick. “I volunteer at a residence for the elderly, and their Christmas party is at risk of being canceled.” All right, that part isn’t entirely true, but close enough. “The school that usually performs had to back out. I thought it would be a positive experience for my kindergarteners to perform for the residents. Principal Woodnut asked me to let you know about it.” So that you don’t pull any strings to prevent it from happening, even though you, as the president of the PTA, shouldn’t have any say in the matter.

The sweet smile returns to my face, contorting my cheeks to the point that they’re aching.

“Where is it?”

I tell her the address.

“Isn’t that awfully far from here?” She makes it sound like we’re talking about the North Pole.

“I can arrange for a school bus to transport the kids to and from the place.”

She eyes me, lips puckered as if she’d licked an unripe grapefruit.

My stomach starts to free-fall, a parachuter minus the gear.

“I’m not sure it would be the best use of our resources,” she says.

Landon steps forward. “Perhaps you should put it to a vote and see what the other parents here think.”

“I’m confident I can speak on behalf of the PTA members. Unlike you, Mr.—”

“Landon Reed.” He holds out his hand to her. “I’m the kindergarten substitute teacher while Zoe Bryant is on maternity leave.”

She shakes his hand without missing a beat. “Unlike you, Mr. Reed, my children have attended this school for the past few years. And during that time, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know most of the parents. I know their wishes enough to be able to speak for them.”

Kiera shoots Landon a look that Tabitha misses, one eye raised in an I-told-you-so gesture.

He winks at me, and without a word, raises his hands to his collar and unbuttons it. Tabitha doesn’t say anything. She just watches him, a deer mesmerized by the oncoming truck lights.

She’s so busy taking in the show, she misses the comical eyebrow dance Kiera levels my way. I have to squish my lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

Landon keeps unfastening his shirt, revealing his abs. And hot damn, they’re a work of art.

I steal a quick glance at Tabitha. If her expression is anything to go by, she agrees with me one hundred percent. Her gaze is glued to the PG-rated strip show playing out in front of us.

“Sorry, weren’t we discussing the Christmas show?” Landon casually says, as if it’s normal for him to strip in front of a bunch of gawking women.

A few moms run their tongues along their lower lips. I wouldn’t be surprised if they rush to sign up for parent-teacher conferences once they find out he’s a teacher here—even if he isn’t teaching their kid.

“Like I already told Chloe, I’ll have to put it to a vote.” Tabitha’s gaze remains locked on his well-honed abs.

“Works for me.”

Tabitha drags her eyes away from Landon and excuses herself to start the meeting.

Grinning, he leans in close to me, his warm breath brushing against my