Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover #2) - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,36

after last night.

The knowledge that someone wants me dead wasn’t exactly conducive to falling asleep. And it didn’t help that I spent the night in a bed that’s not mine.

A good portion of it was spent attempting to get comfortable in a bed that would typically be considered heavenly. The other part was spent watching the thin streak of light on the ceiling, willing it to turn into a flock of sheep, so I could count them jumping over an imaginary fence.

In the end, I fell asleep out of exhaustion.

And I’m sure everyone who sees me today will be able to tell I got very little sleep last night. The dark circles under my eyes don’t exactly scream otherwise.

“I made you breakfast,” Landon tells me, standing next to the stove, a cast-iron skillet in front of him. “There’s coffee if you want.” He nods toward the coffeemaker.

Two empty mugs sit on the counter, each with a different saying: “Holiday Survival Mug” and “Don’t Get Your Tinsel in a Tangle.”

I laugh and pick up the tinsel one, fill it, and add the proper amount of milk and sugar.

“I hope you like omelets,” he says, expertly sliding the contents of the frying pan onto the plate.

I take a long whiff of the air. “It smells amazing.” But that doesn’t exactly surprise me. So far, Landon has proved himself skilled in the kitchen.

He hands me the plate and gestures for me to sit. There’s already a plate in Landon’s place, covered with an inverted metal bowl. He sits next to me and lifts the bowl, revealing another omelet.

I take a bite of mine. “Oh, God, this is incredible,” I say around a moan, much like the one I made in the shower not that long ago—only a little louder this time. “What’s the plan for this morning? Are we just showing up at school and letting everyone guess that we’re a couple?” This is my preferred way of doing things, especially if it reduces the chance of anyone actually believing Landon and I are together together.

Of course, thanks to the dark circles under my eyes, everyone will assume I jumped into bed with him soon after he started working at the school, and I spent the entire night lost in hot passion and mind-numbing sex.

“I’m sure everyone will get the hint when we show up holding hands.” His tone is all business, as if he says this kind of thing to women all the time.

I feel my lips twitch into a grin. “So no big announcement on the PA system?”

He grins back. “That probably won’t be necessary.”

We quickly finish breakfast. Landon lives a fair distance from the school, which means we have to leave early if we want to make it there on time.

And then we have to hope we don’t get stuck in traffic.

We arrive at the teachers’ parking lot at the same time as Ava. Kiera’s car is already here, with my best friend sliding out of the driver’s seat. Her eyes widen when she sees me sitting in Landon’s jeep.

The expression isn’t mirrored on Ava’s face. She seems more amused than anything.

The two of them wait while we exit the jeep.

“Landon’s now driving you to work?” The surprise on Kiera’s face is mirrored in her tone.

Before I can reply, Landon threads his fingers with mine.

A move not missed by either Kiera or Ava.

Again, Ava doesn’t appear too surprised by any of this. Kiera looks ready to drag me down an alley and ask me what the hell is going on.

She’s familiar with my past—minus the part about my connection to the mafia. She’s aware I’m gun-shy about relationships because so many men in my life have walked away from me. Men who were supposed to love me unconditionally.

She looks between us. “What’s going on?” She turns to me. “Why is he holding your hand?”

“Because we’re kinda dating,” is my lame reply.

“Not kinda,” Landon corrects, pulling me to his side. “We are dating.” He gives my waist a little squeeze.

“Yes, what he said. We’re dating. Nothing kinda about it.” And since I don’t already sound like an idiot, I add, “Yessiree. Dating. When two people go out together and start kissing and getting all romantic.”

Kiera barks a laugh. “Thanks for the reminder of the definition for dating, given it’s been a while since I’ve been on one.”

The only way this could be more awkward? If I were standing here naked.

“So when did this all come about?” The skepticism in her tone