Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover #2) - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,33
knees. Now, that was a whole new level of hotness.
She’s a whole new level of hotness.
“By the way, thank you,” I say. “I was the one who was supposed to save your life, and you’re the one who saved mine.”
Yes, the caveman inside me grunts at that.
But even the caveman has to concede it was worth it to see Chloe in action.
“You’re welcome,” she says.
“But how about we don’t make that a habit. I’m supposed to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you’re going to try to be a hero.”
She stares at me for a long second. “So, the next time that happens, I’m supposed to just stand there and watch someone almost kill you?”
I smirk at her. “Didn’t realize you like me that way.” Then I turn serious. “Do you know how many people die each year playing hero?” My words release as a growl, startling both Chloe and Whiskey.
He eyes me with confusion and barks.
“That’s right,” Chloe says to him, her tone sweet and silly. “The big bad control-freak has a problem when a woman has to rescue him.”
She’s partly right. I do like to be in control. When I’m not, it feels like a billion ants crawling all over me, nipping at my skin. Leaving me itchy.
But I’m definitely not a control freak.
Much.
“I’ve been hired to protect you,” I remind her, “not the other way around.”
“You obviously don’t know me very well. If someone needs help, I’m not walking away and pretending they don’t.”
Which makes her the opposite of her family. The only ones they’re truly willing to help are themselves. If they do help you, it’s always at a cost.
I push myself to my feet and offer her my hand. “C’mon. Let’s go to your apartment to pick up your stuff.”
She peers up at me. “You really must think highly of yourself if you believe a woman will want to move in with you after one date.”
“Ha! So you are admitting yesterday was a date.”
“Given what I now know, I can say, without a smidgeon of doubt, yesterday in no way can be construed as a date.” She laughs softly, then her gaze drops to her lap—and the sleeping furball there. “I don't think I can go anywhere. I don’t want to disturb him.”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it, especially once you move in with me.” I gently scoop up Whiskey. He peers at me with a doozy expression and yawns. “Bedtime, boy.”
At Chloe’s apartment door, I take her key from her and enter first. “Stay right here,” I tell her, pointing to where I want her to park herself while I check the rooms.
I return a few minutes later, satisfied the place is safe for now.
“Okay, you can start packing,” I tell her.
“How long will I be staying at your place?”
“I’d say to count on it for a few weeks. Maybe a month.” Or longer.
“A month?” She practically squeaks it. “I can’t live with you for a month.”
“If it means keeping you safe, you can live with me for a year if need be.”
Her eyes widen, panic shining in them like the powerful rays from a lighthouse. “I never even lived with my ex-boyfriend before he’d had enough of me and vanished from my life.”
“Are you afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”
A sexy blush spreads across her cheeks, but she lifts her chin in equally sexy defiance. “I can promise you I won’t have a problem keeping my hands off you.” She walks into her bedroom.
“I notice you didn’t make me promise to keep my hands off you,” I say, chuckling as I follow after her.
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.”