Secret Agent Boyfriend. Addison Fox

      “The FBI follows them?”

      “The FBI follows a lot of people.”

      Landry maintained a light, breezy air, even as his words struck a discordant note.

      The FBI did follow a lot of people. And her aunt had thought her current family situation was bad enough to warrant that sort of scrutiny. She knew Aunt Kate was acting in what she believed was the Adair family’s best interests, but Landry also knew there was more to it.

      An outsider—and a highly trained one at that—could see things others would miss, and Kate was canny enough to recognize that distinct benefit.

      If she were smart—if they were all smart—they’d do well to remember that simple fact.

      Derek laid a hand on her arm, the warmth penetrating the thin sleeve of her sweater. “You all right? You disappeared there for a minute.”

      “Don’t be silly. I’m right here.”

      His dark gaze sought hers and held it for a moment before he gestured toward the archive room. “After you, then.”

      The subfloor hallway was as ruthlessly clean as the lobby, the scents of industrial cleaner and old paper mixing in the thick air. She knew it was silly, but Landry could swear she felt the weight of history pressing in on them as they entered the archive room.

      Anxious to will away the oppressive feeling, she sought for humor to diffuse the moment. “You take all your fake girlfriends down here?”

      “That all depends.”

      “On what?”

      “If an old FBI subbasement seems sexy or creepy.”

      She couldn’t hold back the light giggle at his words, but before she could answer him, he pulled her farther into the room. “Come on. There’s a workstation down here that’s not used very much. It’ll give us a chance to sit and hunt around for a while.”

      In moments Derek had them logged into a computer terminal, the screen awaiting his search query inputs. He’d shed the jacket for comfort, and her gaze was once again drawn to the powerful body beneath the thin veneer of black cotton. Corded muscles roped his forearms, tapering down to firm, capable hands.

      Hands that had held her, caressed her and pulled her against his warm frame.

      “Noah’s thirty-seven?”

      The question pulled her from her musings before she nodded, her voice tight when she finally spoke. “Yes.”

      If Derek heard the distress he ignored it, instead typing in Noah’s name, year of birth and parentage into the query field. Even with all their efforts to lighten the mood, Landry couldn’t quite vanquish the well of sadness as she watched him type her cousin’s name into the search bar.

      While their failed kiss had been more the cause of her cool attitude back at the house, she hadn’t lied about Noah. The thought of what they were doing—and the consequences for her cousin—was tough to swallow.

      Two months before, her father had been ripped from her life, the cruel hand of death dealt by another. If she and Derek discovered proof that Noah was the missing Adair heir, wouldn’t they be doing the same in reverse?

      Ripping him from the only life he’d ever known? And the comfort of an identity he’d lived with since he was an infant.

      On a resigned sigh, she admitted to herself that wishing the truth away—or worse, attempting to hide it—wasn’t the answer, either. “You need to add Ruby to your next search string.”

      “Your father’s first wife?”

      “Yes. Ruby Townsend Mason.”

      “Her daughter, Georgia, is Carson’s fiancée, right?”

      “Georgia’s her stepdaughter, but they might as well be related by blood. The two of them are incredibly close.”

      Again, the pressure of the past few months weighed on her as she thought about the woman who’d come into her brother’s life, brightening his entire world and helping to ease the pain of wartime that had scarred him, both physically and emotionally. Georgia was an incredible person, and she’d been raised with an abundance of love and caring. Ruby Mason might not be her biological mother, but she was Georgia’s mother in all the ways that mattered.

      It was humbling to contrast the relationship to the one she shared with her own mother. As they always did, thoughts of Patsy Adair managed to make her feel sad and stifled, all at the same time.

      “I’ll include Ruby’s information next.” Derek’s voice broke into her thoughts as he set up another query while the first was running in the background. “It’s interesting that it was Georgia who made the connection about Noah.”

      “She saw an old picture of Ruby’s father and was shocked by how much the man resembled Noah.”

      “Connections.” He muttered the word as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Strong. Efficient. Competent.

      An entirely unexpected flutter settled beneath her skin and Landry tried to shake off the strange well of attraction. Seriously? When did a man sitting at a computer terminal become sexy?

      When he wore a black T-shirt and low-slung jeans like Derek Winchester, that’s when.

      Ignoring the sexual buzz—especially in light of the fact that Derek seemed to be oblivious to one, his gaze focused on the computer screen—Landry’s thoughts returned to Georgia. She knew the suspicions about Noah had been weighing heavily on Georgia’s mind.

      Was Noah really Jackson?

      And could it even be possible he’d been a part of their family this entire time?

      Georgia hadn’t wanted to get Ruby’s hopes up, so instead of reveling in the celebration of her engagement to Carson, the woman was busy keeping secrets from her stepmother.

      Landry fought back a small sigh at the realization that yet another layer of deception and mystery permeated her life and the lives of those she loved.

      It was further proof that the grounds of Adair Acres held as many old secrets as new ones.