Secret Agent Boyfriend

by Addison Fox

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She stilled, her blue eyes going as soft as a field of bluebonnets. “Thank you.”

  “I meant what I said last night. I want you. And I spent what was left of last night cursing myself and my damned conscience.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you I lay awake cursing your damned conscience, too?”

  A heavy laugh hit him and he couldn’t hold it back, the sheer joy of being with her replacing whatever lingering frustration he might have had. Her laughter joined his, quickly capturing both of them in the moment.

  Still grinning, he couldn’t resist placing another kiss against her ear as their laughter quieted. “Maybe you’ll give me another chance.”

  “Maybe I just will.” She pressed a lingering kiss against his lips, the light coffee-flavored taste of her going to his head like the most potent whiskey.

  In spite of all that was going on, nothing mattered but being in her orbit. Power outages and snakes and kidnapped babies simply faded away in the reality of her.

  “Derek.” Her voice pulled him back to the present.

  “Hmmm?”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder, holding him still. “We need to go through this.”

  “Maybe you can sit on my lap when we do.”

  He was rewarded with another giggle before she tossed her napkin at him. “As I was saying.”

  And then she had the tablet, her tone all business, even if she did keep a hand over his as she spoke. “The first place I started was the immigration records you pulled. My aunt Emmaline was in Europe when my father’s son was born. She was pregnant with Noah at the time and on bed rest.”

  Although he wanted nothing more than to find someplace secluded and finish what they’d started, Derek had to admit she had him at the details. Years of training and natural curiosity had his gaze drifting off her lush mouth and toward the screen of her tablet. “Your aunt never traveled at all?”

  “No.” Landry tapped on the screen, then pointed toward a section of notes. “Right there. Between the death of her husband and her difficult pregnancy, she didn’t travel at all for almost a two-year period, both before and after Noah was born. And even for years after that, her travel was sporadic.”

  “She was widowed? That long ago? That never made it into Kate’s briefing.”

  “About six months into her pregnancy.”

  Derek considered that tidbit. On one hand, he could understand leaving it out. The notes had said Emmaline was widowed young. But something in the fact that it happened while pregnant struck Derek as important. Poignant, somehow. “What does that do to a person?”

  Landry’s eyes narrowed as she considered his question. “Grief is a horrible thing, and it’s not logical when it comes.”

  “No, but to lose your spouse—your support system—at the very moment you need it most?” Derek took a sip of his coffee. “That must have been horrible for her.”

  “I’d say so.” Landry scrolled a bit further in her notes. “It’s also another reason why the idea that Noah is Jackson seems so off. Emmaline couldn’t have taken Jackson. She was nowhere near him.”

  “True.” Derek reached for her tablet again and scanned the meticulous accounting of dates and had to concede her point. They could have as many suspicions as they wanted, but none of it changed the fact that by all accounts, Emmaline Adair Scott was living a life in Europe, content to stay there and raise her own family. “What else?”

  “I also scanned the investigation records quickly. It was almost four decades ago and I didn’t spend much time with them, but I’m surprised the police records from North Carolina are so spotty.”

  “I noticed that, too.” Derek had thought the records inconclusive, as well, but he’d taken it a step further and questioned the overall investigative skills of those assigned. It might have been nearly forty years ago, but good investigative technique wasn’t only in the purview of those who had computers and smartphones at their disposal.

  The cops on the Adair kidnapping had done a terrible job. In one report they have neighbors claiming a car had circled the block several times the day the baby was taken, but no one had followed up on the make or model.

  And yet another report had said there was a statewide search, yet Derek hadn’t found any proof of much beyond a few door-to-door checks of known offenders out on parole.

  None of it made much sense. A child goes missing and the cops do everything they can to bring the child home. The child of a wealthy family goes missing and no one in law enforcement sleeps until they have answers.

  Yet Jackson Adair vanished from almost right beneath his mother’s nose, never to be seen again, and the case seemed flubbed or misguided every step of the way.

  Curious, he waited to see Landry’s take.

  “I know this isn’t my expertise, but the police records seem awfully incomplete.”

  “Because they are.”

  Landry was prevented from replying when Noah walked into the room. She recovered quickly, leaning forward and giggling against his cheek, looking for all the world like a woman in a heated flirtation with her boyfriend.

  The quick thinking had obviously worked when Noah wiggled his eyebrows in Derek’s direction from the spread set out on the sideboard. “I’d ask what you two are up to but I think I can guess.”

  Landry stood to refresh her coffee and pressed a kiss to her cousin’s cheek. “Mind, gutter, Noah. Disengage the two.”

  He pulled her close in a side-armed hug and dropped a big smacking kiss on her cheek. “You know no one’s good enough for my little baby cousin.”

  Derek fought the wince at Noah’s loaded words, especially since the man was oblivious to the conversation he’d interrupted. While Noah fixed his breakfast, Landry flitted around the dining room like a queen bee, keeping things light and easy.

  Heck, if Derek hadn’t just gone over the data with her, he’d never have believed the two of them were just questioning Noah’s parentage.

  “The shower’s later today. Is your mother coming down from Palm Springs?” Landry asked.

  “She wouldn’t miss it. The woman’s crazy about babies. It’s all she can talk about. Especially when it comes to my getting in gear and giving her a grandchild.” Noah tucked into a large bagel he’d smothered with cream cheese, the move doing nothing to erase a quick and irritated frown.

  “A woman’s prerogative.”

  “As is a man’s right to choose when he procreates.”

  “Touché.”

  Landry picked at her own breakfast, tearing off a small piece of toast. “Your mom’s picking up Aunt Rosalyn and Uncle Sheldon, isn’t she?”

  Derek sat, fascinated to see how she manipulated the dialogue.

  “Better her than me.” Noah visibly shuddered. “Sheldon’s getting more and more crochety by the day. It only rivals his all-around general craziness.”

  “I wish they’d get him to a doctor and have his memory checked.” Landry made a small tsking sound. “Maybe get him some meds. That nasty disposition of his only gets worse with age.”

  “Well, I for one can’t wait to meet your family, babe.” Derek laid it on thick, draping his hand over hers and leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I think I might have something to do this afternoon.”

  He shot a pleading look at Noah. “You sure you don’t need help down at the stables today? I can exercise the horses. Feed them. Muck stalls.”

  “You’d take stall mucking over a baby shower?” Landry pretended offense, but he saw the humor lighting the depths of her eyes.

  Derek shot Noah a wink before pressing another kiss to Landry’s cheek. “Any day, babe. Any day.”

  * * *

  Georgia handed her one end of a blue streamer and pointed toward the f
ar side of the living room. “Let’s tack it on the end of the fireplace.”

  Landry unrolled as she walked, twisting the streamer to create an arc of baby blue. “I’m going to be an aunt. Every time I think I have a handle on it, I have a moment when I realize in a few short months there will be a baby here.”

  “I know. Things have happened so fast, but I can’t wait to meet him.” Georgia pulled a tab of tape off some contraption she wore on her wrist. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

  “Elizabeth wanted something quiet at home.”

  “I mean about Noah.”

  The quavering voice reached her a moment before a quick, hard sob. Landry dropped her end of the streamer roll and pulled Georgia into her arms for a tight hug. “Come on. What’s the matter?”

  “I feel like Pandora. I’m the one who made the connection about the picture of Ruby’s father and Noah, and now I can’t take it back.”

  “You shared an observation, Georgia. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know, but that was before I knew him well. And now that I’ve spent more time with him—” She broke off, another sob spilling from her throat as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I feel like I’ve set in motion the steps to ruin his life.”

  “No, no, no. You can’t think that way.” Landry kept her arm around Georgia’s shoulders and tried to comfort her, but even her attempts at soft, soothing words felt flat to her own ears.

  Hadn’t she felt the same?

  Hell, just that morning she and Derek had worked through their notes from the FBI almost beneath Noah’s nose.

  “I’m not sure what I hate more,” Georgia said. “The questions, or the fact that we all think this huge, enormous secret and haven’t shared it with him.”

  “I understand and feel the same way. I know we need answers, but we don’t have to like it.”

  Georgia dashed at the tears that covered her cheeks. “What if we’re right?”

  “We love him. And if we find out that your suspicions are correct, then we’ll continue to give him all the love and support we have.”

  As they finished with the decorating, Landry couldn’t help wondering if she was being too optimistic. Yes, they would all support Noah no matter what the outcome, but would he want their help once he knew the truth?

  * * *

  Landry slipped on a thin pair of sandals to match the light wrap dress she wore and closed her bedroom door behind her. She felt better after sharing the time with Georgia earlier, even if the guilt over what they were doing increasingly weighed like an anchor.

  At least their conversation had reinforced that the others felt as bad as she did.

  She loved Noah; she always had. And until recently, with the reading of her father’s will and the revelation that he’d had a child from a first marriage, she’d had no reason to view Noah under any light except that of favored cousin.

  None of it changed the fact that Reginald and Ruby had spent their lives bereft of their son. Was it possible her father died never knowing his son had actually been nearby his entire life?

  The two had always gotten along. Her father had kept his distance—she’d always believed he knew no other way—but it hadn’t stopped a bond from forming between them anyway. Their mutual love of horses had shaped much of it, but Reginald had always been a father figure, especially with Emmaline’s husband having already passed away.

  The doorbell rang, pulling Landry from her thoughts, and she opened the door to see Emmaline, Rosalyn and Sheldon at the door. “Hello! Come in.”

  Landry braced herself for the onslaught of familial hugs and the usual banter that accompanied a visit from her father’s sisters. Sheldon grumbled about keeping his hat and she deftly ignored him, swooping in for hugs from her aunt Rosalyn and her aunt Emmaline.

  As Landry pulled Emmaline close, she wondered who she held in her arms. A sweet, loving aunt who still grieved the loss of her brother so soon after his passing? Or a cold, brittle woman who’d betrayed that brother by taking and raising his only son?

  If she had done it, how did she live with herself?

  Whit was about to have a baby boy, and Landry held nothing but excitement for the arrival of her new nephew and happiness for her brother and his wife. She couldn’t even imagine touching a hair on the new baby’s head, let alone taking him away from his parents.

  Was she actually related to this woman who possibly felt neither of those things?

  Stepping back, Landry let her gaze travel over her aunt. Slender and petite, Emmaline’s features were small and birdlike. Her thick brown hair was shot through with gray and she had it pulled into a severe bun.

  She hardly looked like a kidnapper.

  But what did that really mean?

  Afraid to get caught staring, Landry quickly ushered them into the dining room for some refreshments. “Kathleen’s been cooking for a week to get ready for this. Please, help yourselves.”

  Sheldon’s eyes lit up when he saw some small pastry-wrapped hot dogs, and he beelined toward them with a speed that belied his age.

  “Not too many, Sheldon.”

  Sheldon waved a hand in Rosalyn’s direction. “Don’t fuss at me, woman. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

  “It’s a baby shower, not a five-course meal. Make sure you leave some for everyone else.”

  “We have plenty, Aunt Rosalyn.” Landry gave her aunt a good-natured eye roll before leaning in and whispering, “The kitchen knows those are his favorites. Kathleen made sure they cooked extras.”

  Rosalyn patted Landry’s arm. “Such a good girl you are. Reginald had good children.”

  Landry waved her aunts off toward the living room and the conversation that already hummed with Elizabeth, Georgia and several of Elizabeth’s friends. While she wanted to continue her observations, she figured she’d better keep an eye on Sheldon until he’d made a plate or Rosalyn’s admonition of vanished appetizers might come true.

  So as not to appear as if she was watching him, Landry made a fuss over the table settings and decorations. “How have you been, Uncle Sheldon?”

  “Fine. Fine. Fit like I told you.”

  “Of course you are. I’m so glad you and Aunt Rosalyn could make it to Elizabeth’s baby shower.”

  “Baby?” His head snapped up as he stared at her, his dark brown eyes rheumy with age. “What baby?”

  “Whit and Elizabeth’s baby. The baby boy they’re having in a few months.”

  He continued to putter his way around the table, muttering to himself the whole time. Although she’d been joking with Noah that morning, her uncle really was worse off than she’d realized.

  “Babies. Always talking about babies. Live ones. Dead ones.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on edge and Landry stilled her movements. The stack of napkins in her hands flopped and she dropped several on the table. Bending down to retrieve them, she forced a calm she didn’t feel into her voice. “What dead babies, Uncle Sheldon?”

  “The one that died. Right?” He shook his head. “Or maybe it didn’t die.”

  She moved around the table to settle a hand on his shoulder. “What baby didn’t die, Uncle Sheldon?”

  “Emmaline’s baby. He was born sick and we thought he died but then he didn’t. Right?”

  “Of course. Noah’s fine and well, Uncle Sheldon. In fact, he’s here. He’ll come into the party later and say hi to everyone.”

  “Right as rain.”

  “Yes, Noah’s fine.” She steered him toward the living room, adding a few extra puff pastries on his way through the door to keep him occupied and his mouth busy.

  Shock raced through her, slamming her heart against her ribs as Landry fell back against the wall and closed her eyes. Had her senile old uncle just confirmed the truth behind
their questions?

  And if Emmaline had a baby who died, then who was Noah Scott?

  Chapter 12

  Derek stayed true to his promise. In exchange for skipping out on spending the afternoon with Landry’s family, he helped out wherever he was needed in the stables. The work was sweaty and tiring, but he took pride in the finished product—a stable that positively sparkled.

  “We’ve got an opening if you want it.” Noah’s grin was infectious when he handed over a cold bottle of water. “You’re a natural in here.”

  “It was time well spent. I can feel my muscles.”

  “There’s something to that, isn’t there?” Noah took a seat opposite him in the small stable office, his skin as covered in dirt as Derek’s.

  Noah’s gaze traveled the office walls. “It’s something my mother’s struggled with.” When Derek said nothing, Noah added, “My interest in working here. Taking care of the horses and the grounds. She has some idea that it’s beneath me.”

  “Parents don’t understand everything.”

  “Do yours?”

  “I got pretty lucky.” Again, he was reminded that his own upbringing was fairly idyllic. But even amid the seeming perfection, there had been holes. “But parents don’t always know how to express their feelings. My mother didn’t like a woman I used to be engaged to.”

  He’d deliberately pushed those early days with Sarah out of his mind, but his mother hadn’t been crazy about his choice and had made sure he knew about it, too.

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say I figured out before it was too late that you can’t share your life with someone who wishes you were a different person.”

  “That’s for damn sure.” Noah waved his water bottle. “You introduce your mother to Landry yet?”

  “Not yet. But soon.”

  Derek knew he was only playing a part, but suddenly he had a vision of bringing Landry home to meet his parents. The two of them, seated at his mother’s dining room table, sharing a meal as his mother trod that delicate balance between being nosy and interested, and his father kept a sweet, supportive smile pasted on his face.