Secret Agent Boyfriend. Addison Fox
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on her bed, making room for Carson’s well-muscled form. He might move a bit more slowly than in the past, but he was far from soft. In fact, in some ways, his new physical limitations had only pushed him harder to keep his body in top condition.
“Let me rephrase my point. I heard you were out and about today with Derek Winchester.”
“Ah. You mean the babysitter.”
Landry let the words dangle there, curious to see Carson’s reaction. “The man’s damn good at what he does.”
“It still doesn’t mean I need to be watched over.”
“Come on. We discussed this and you said you were okay with it.”
They had. And she was.
Until a long, lean warrior arrived at the edge of her pool at eight o’clock this morning. The man messed up her routine and her order. He made her curious. About him. About what had brought him to their door. About what it might be like to kiss him.
And to ignore the fact that their relationship was a fake and pretend for a few glorious moments it was 100 percent real.
Shrugging it off, she tossed a jaunty smile toward her brother. “A girl has a right to change her mind.”
“Then if it’s that easy, change it back.”
“Why have we let an outsider in?”
“So he can see the things we can’t. We’re too close to it all. We’ve got absolutely zero perspective, and that makes us vulnerable.”
“I’m not too close to anything.”
“Oh, no?” Carson stretched out and folded his hands behind his head like a pillow. “You can honestly sit here and tell me you aren’t shocked as hell that we might have a brother somewhere?”
“No.” Yes. She averted her eyes rather than admit the truth to Carson with his all-knowing gaze.
“And you’re equally not shocked that someone shot and killed our father in cold blood.”
“Oh, come on, that’s below the belt, Cars.”
“No. It’s honest.” Carson shifted, rolling onto his side. “You know as well as I do this is not only a shock, but it’s happening from the inside.”
Much as she wanted to argue, Landry knew he was right. The events of the past few months had sent an earthquake through their family. While much of it was a blur at times, she couldn’t deny her brother’s words.
Underneath it all, everything felt personal. And way, way too close.
First her father’s death, shot in his office at point-blank range. Then the discovery during the reading of his will of a kidnapped child from his first marriage. Even their mother’s race to Europe smacked of personal knowledge.
Carson’s voice dropped. “And you know we can’t discard the questions about Noah.”
Despite the large rooms and relative isolation each of them had in the various wings of the house, on some level Landry understood Carson’s need to whisper.
Their cousin, Noah, had been a part of their lives forever. He was just...there. A part of their family. A part of them. Now they all had doubts and reservations since Carson’s fiancée, Georgia, asked the one question none of them had ever known to ask.
Was it possible their cousin, Noah Scott, was really their father’s missing son, Jackson Adair?
Georgia had seen an old photo years before of her stepmother’s father. The old photo depicted a young man, handsome and full of life.
And a shocking genetic mirror of Noah.
Ruby, her stepmother, had lost her baby son, then subsequently her husband. Did they dare get her hopes up that Jackson might have been nearby all these years?
“Please tell me you understand why we need Derek?”
“Of course I do.”
“Is that a ‘Carson, I understand and will cooperate as you’ve asked’ sort of yes?”
She shoved at his shoulder, the motion doing little to move him. “Yes, it is.”
“Good. I’ve already briefed him. You can give him proper cover in the morning when he begins his investigation.”
The words were on the tip of her tongue to argue and let him know she and Derek were going into this as equal partners, investigating together, but she held back. She knew Derek hadn’t been all that pleased with her request, and she knew damn well her brother wouldn’t be, either.
So she held her tongue and smiled. “Of course I will.”
Carson lifted up on an elbow to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before rolling toward the edge of the bed. Despite his injury, he moved off the mattress and got to his feet in one swift motion.
“And Landry?”
“Yes.”
His hand snaked out before she realized its destination and dragged the thick hardcover out from where she’d hidden it. “Go easy on him. He’s one of the good guys.”
Carson dropped the hardcover on top of the blankets where it bounced with a hard thud, his grin broad and cocky as his hands went to his hips.
That smile brought back memories of their youth, roaming Adair Acres and playing through the endless groves of citrus trees. He’d often fancied himself Peter Pan, his hands perched at his waist as he issued orders for how to fight pirates or manage their skyward flight to Neverland.
There had been a time when Landry thought she’d never see that smile again. And now that it was back, she could only be grateful.
She might not like her immediate circumstances.
But she was glad to have her brother back.
* * *
Derek kept his gaze on the pool from his guest-room window, Landry’s morning swim as captivating from a distance as it had been up close and personal the day before.
He hadn’t intended to be a pervert—and as a lawman who spent his life in pursuit of those who lived up to the moniker, he knew he wasn’t—but for the life of him he couldn’t turn away from the window.
She was magnificent. Her long body was a vision, the product of discipline and obvious hard work. But it was her mind and the emotions that lurked behind her expressive blue eyes that had him even more fascinated.
He’d replayed the day before over and over, tossing into the early hours of the morning as images of Landry Adair had floated through his sleep-deprived brain.
And for the first time in months, he’d had company through the long night with a memory that didn’t end in blood.
With one final glance out the window, Derek pulled himself together and headed for the stables. He knew he’d made a promise to Landry—they’d handle the investigation as partners—but if the suspicions about her cousin were right, her presence would only hinder the investigation.
He slid his wallet in his back pocket, his fingers bereft when a badge didn’t follow, and fought the daily swell of battered pride and bruised ego.
He was a federal agent. He knew how to do his job, and he was good at it.
Damn good.
He navigated the large house, the back stairwell into the kitchen the closest to his bedroom. The scent of coffee and fresh muffins assailed him as he hit the bottom step, and he caught a shy smile from the head cook as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.”
“Derek, please, Kathleen. How are you this morning?”
The woman blushed, her obvious surprise that he’d