Plenty, just not in the way she’s hoping. “No, but I do have a degree.”
“In what?”
“Electrical engineering.”
“Hmm. Not exactly useful when it comes to working with kindergarteners.”
Tell me about it. I don’t know the first thing about dealing with that age. I’m hardly admitting that to her, though.
But really, how hard can it be?
“Because you’ll be substituting for Zoe Bryant’s class while she’s on maternity leave, your classroom is right next to Chloe’s. I can arrange it so the adjoining door between the two rooms is left open, should you need help. Plus, then you’ll have easy access to Chloe.”
She doesn’t state what all three of us know to be true. Zoe isn’t officially on maternity leave. But since she’s Ava’s best friend and Liam’s team knows her, we were able to convince her to start her maternity leave a month sooner than planned—at the FBI’s expense.
“Sounds good,” I tell Principal Woodnut.
“You’re really not going to tell her what’s going on?”
“It’s best she doesn’t know.”
The reality is, Principal Woodnut doesn’t know the full truth either. She only knows that I’m there to protect Chloe. That much we could tell her. She doesn’t know about Chloe’s connection to the mafia crime family that’s continuously been on the news over the past five months.
Principal Woodnut nods, deferring to the arrangement.
“I guess there’s nothing left to say. Welcome to Dalhousie Elementary School; if you need anything, be sure to let Ava, Chloe, or me know.” The corner of her mouth twitches for a brief moment, and I try not to wonder what the hell that’s about. “Ava will escort you to your classroom.” Some more twitching of her mouth and she stands up. “Good luck, Mr. Reed.”
I’ve been doing this job long enough to interpret body language and speech patterns. It comes with the territory. Which is why I catch the you’re-royally-screwed, barely suppressed laughter in her tone.
Not exactly reassuring, but a bunch of kindergarteners is hardly a big deal. I’ve served overseas, been shot at, taken down the enemy.
There’s nothing these kids can dish out that I can’t handle.
“Okay, soldier, let me show you around,” Ava says.
We step out of the office.
“Ava, there’s a call for you on line two,” the secretary tells her. “You can take it in Mr. Hauge’s office. He’s not in until later this morning, so he won’t care if you take the call there.”
“Thanks, Jeanine. I’ll be right back,” she tells me and disappears into the room.
The main door to the office swings opens, and a woman enters. Her wavy, shoulder-length hair is the color of a new penny, and she’s wearing a cream knit top with tiny blue flowers and black slacks. Her makeup is on the minimal side, natural.
Christ, she’s fucking gorgeous.
A thick stack of books sits perched in her arms, and her purse dangles from one shoulder.
She takes a step forward as her bag slides down and hooks on the door handle. She continues her forward momentum, but the bag has other plans. Half her body jerks back, and the books tilt precariously in her arms, threatening to crash to the floor.
I spring forward, grabbing for the books as they begin their descent.
Realizing she’s about to lose her precious load, she attempts to hug it to herself and stumbles into me. Forgetting about the books, I instinctively grab her around the waist, bringing her hard against me.
The books hit the floor with a series of loud bangs.
A shocked gasp releases from her soft pink lips, and I loosen my hold on her—much to my body’s annoyance.
“Sorry.” I step back and start collecting the books from the floor.
She crouches to do the same. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s my bag and the door handle who owe us an apology.” A strand of hair falls in her face.
She shoves it behind her ear as I chuckle at her comment. We both stand up, our arms full of books.
“Where do you need these?” I ask.
“My classroom, but I need to talk to Principal Woodnut first.”
“She’s expecting you, Chloe,” Jeanine says.
Chloe?
This is the woman I’m supposed to be dating? She looks nothing like the picture in the folder Liam gave me yesterday when he told the team about the mission.
Chloe’s a fairly common name. For all I know, there’s at least two of them in this school.
“Hey, Chloe,” Ava says from behind me. “I see you’ve already met Landon—Zoe’s replacement while she’s on maternity leave.” To me, Ava says, “You’ll be teaching in the classroom next to Chloe’s.” She flashes me a meaningful expression.
I guess that answers my question. This is the Chloe Reinhart whose grandfather is facing life in prison.
“Today’s his first day,” Ava adds.
Chloe’s eyes widen. “Zoe’s on maternity leave? I thought she was working until winter break. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Just a slight change of plans. I’m giving Landon the tour; then he’s all yours.”
I turn back to Chloe. “Since I’m headed that way, do you want me to drop the books off in your classroom?”
“That’s okay. I can manage.” She reaches for them.
I jerk the books away from her.
“Are you sure? I can at least help and take those two.” She points to the ones on top of the pile.
“I’m positive.”
She nibbles her lip in a move that’s so goddamn sexy.
Get your mind in the game, Scorpio.
“Okay.” She scurries off to Woodnut’s office, leaving me with Ava.
A short time later, after Ava has shown me all the sights and explained the ins and outs of our day, we step into an empty classroom.
“And this is where you’ll be spending the next few weeks…less, if you’re lucky.” She walks to the teacher’s desk—my desk—and picks up a folder from it. “This is your attendance list.”
I survey the territory. A fucking rainbow exploded in here. The drawers against the walls, the rug in the corner of the room, the stout bookshelves, the posters with cartoon illustrations, the half-dozen squat tables with pint-sized chairs—it’s all a multitude of bright colors, and it makes Principal Woodnut’s office look dull.
Shit. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
4
Chloe
I enter Principal Woodnut’s office, and at her request, take a seat, pushing all thoughts from my head of the incredibly sexy substitute teacher.
The sexy teacher who will be in the classroom adjoining mine for at least the next four weeks.
“Jeanine said you wanted to talk to me,” Principal Woodnut says, breaking me from my thoughts.
“That’s right. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I volunteer several days a week at Golden Sunshine Retirement Village. And well…they need our help. Or rather, the students’ help.”
She leans forward, planting her elbows on the desk. “You have my attention.”