Addison Fox - Secret Agent Boyfriend

Noah’s comfortable smile remained in place before he directed his mount toward the edge of the paddock. “What can I do for you?”

Derek introduced himself, before adding, “I’m a good friend of Landry’s.”

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend.” Noah’s smile was friendly and his tone that of an easygoing cowboy. “It was all the kitchen could talk about this morning when I stopped in for coffee.”

A strange sensation—like thousands of bees stinging his face—worked its way across Derek’s cheeks and then on down his neck before he ignored it, repressing any sense of embarrassment. “People like to gossip.”

“That they do. And I can tell you it’s the national pastime here at Adair Acres.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Derek reviewed his approach in his mind, working through the script he’d planned through the long hours of the night. “Landry said I could come down and ride any of the horses. Said to confirm with you who’s feeling well and up for a new rider.”

Noah’s jovial grin grew even broader. “That’s her polite way of saying I needed to pick who I want you to ride and also make sure you don’t get a crack at Pete.”

“Who’s Pete?”

“Landry’s beloved thoroughbred. Paperwork says he’s come down through Seattle Slew’s line.”

Derek heard the words, even if it took his brain a few minutes to catch up.

Landry Adair had a horse from the same line as a Triple Crown winner? And she selfishly kept him to herself and gave him an ordinary name like Pete?

Maintaining the loose-limbed personality and devil-may-care attitude of an aimless playboy, he smiled and nodded. “I guess I’ll have to work on her, then.”

“Let me know how that goes. My cousin’s not easily swayed.”

Cousin. Or half sister.

Without even knowing it, Noah gave him an entrée to discuss the real reason he was here. “You’re cousins? Landry didn’t mention it.”

“Sure are. My mom and her dad are sister and brother.”

“So you grew up together?” Derek added a smile he hoped conveyed a dreamy, besotted quality. “I bet she was a cute kid.”

“If all knees and elbows are cute, with a side of bossy territorialism, then yeah,” Noah said. “There’s a little more than ten years between us so I missed her later years. The stories are legendary of her terrorizing the grooms until they finally put her up on her father’s favorite horse.”

“Another thoroughbred?”

“Yep. Shared the same sire with Pete.”

“Damn.” Derek shook his head and tried to imagine a young girl of no more than eight or nine up on a horse designed for speed and endurance, descended from a horse who had those traits in spades. “Where the hell were her parents?”

“Around.” Noah said nothing more, and Derek knew he needed to pull back. Whatever loyalties were there were embedded deep, forged over a lifetime. He needed to go slowly.

“She’s quite a woman. Clearly that started at a young age.”

“That it did. Look. Give me a minute to get Lucky Strike taken care of and I’ll get you settled.”

Noah dismounted and walked the regal Lucky Strike toward a groom waiting at the edge of the corral. Derek took the moment to observe the exchange, the groom’s respect more than evident in the set of his shoulders and the ready smile at whatever joke Noah told.

In moments the man was back, directing Derek toward a long barn equipped with the latest in technology. Electronic signs lit up the walls, detailing feeding schedules, medicine needs, upcoming vet and farrier visits, and general comments around exercise and well-being. The horses he passed in each stall were impeccably groomed and glowed with good health.

Noah’s doing?

“You manage this part of the estate?”

“In a roundabout way. I manage most of the agriculture on Adair Acres. But the horses are my passion. So this is where I spend most of my free time.”

Derek hadn’t been on a horse in years, and he was surprised to find himself anticipating the experience like a kid waiting for Christmas.

“Why don’t you take San Diego Sunrise out? Diego needs some time in a big way.” Noah pointed toward a horse two stalls down from where they stood. The large bay was a deep brown, the color of the richest dark chocolate.

“Anywhere on the property you’d prefer we don’t go?”

“Nah. Enjoy the morning and give him his head for a bit if you will. He hasn’t been out for a while. And be sure to give him some time in the alfalfa pasture down on the south edge of the property.”

Derek patted Diego’s nose, smiling when the horse nudged his palm. “He wants me to butter you up.”

“A few well-placed words never hurt, but a trip to his favorite pasture and Diego here will be yours for life.”

They worked in tandem, quickly saddling the horse, before Derek pushed his last comment of the morning. “Thanks for the help. This is a beautiful place. It’ll be great to see it up close and personal.”

“There’s something special about Adair Acres. I felt it the first time I came here.”

The specific word choice caught Derek’s attention, and he cycled quickly through the details Carson had provided in advance. He knew what the family believed about Noah’s parentage, but if the man hadn’t even been in the States, how could he be the missing Adair heir?

“First time? Haven’t you come here your whole life?”

“Nah.” Noah added a few notes to Diego’s stall via a keyboard. He quickly tapped his way through several screens before turning back toward Derek. “I lived in Europe as a kid. Didn’t get here until I was about eight. But I fell in love with this place and haven’t looked back.”

Was he purposely kept away from the ranch and his real family by his mother? Or was he truly the biological son of Emmaline Adair Scott, Reginald’s widowed sister?

Derek reflected on the implications as he maneuvered Diego out of the barn. Noah Scott seemed like a decent, hardworking, stand-up sort of guy.

And whatever love or sense of belonging he felt at Adair Acres was at risk of breaking into a million shattered pieces.

* * *

Mark Goodnight glanced at the various materials laid out on his desk and calculated how much he’d need to use to tip Winchester off. He’d already cut out enough letters from magazine covers and newspaper headlines to make a pretty good demand note. All that was left was to glue it together and then mail the note to Winchester at the FBI office.

So damn easy.

It’d be even easier if he could just sneak the materials into the lab and run a few tests on his own, fudging results where he needed to, but a guy couldn’t have everything.

Besides, he didn’t need everything. He just needed Sarah. And in a few more weeks, he’d have her. He’d already been the world’s greatest friend, meeting her every afternoon for coffee and letting her pour her heart out about Derek. How he wasn’t there for her. How he made the job his life. And how he couldn’t get the disappearance of one small girl out of his head.

What else could she do but leave him?

Mark crooned out loud, his whispered chorus of “of course you needed to leave” a litany that spilled from his lips as he unscrewed the cap on a bottle of rubber cement.

And when he solved the case of the missing Rena, Derek’s mania would finally be put to rest.

Winchester hadn’t been trying to help the girl.

He’d been obsessively destroying her.

And Mark would deliver the proof that put Derek Winchester far away from Sarah. And his job. And everything else he held dear.

* * *

Landry let Pete move at his own pace, the fresh morning air whipping past both of them as the thoroughbred thundered over the lush fields of Adair Acres.