His Secret Christmas Baby. Rita Herron

to make up for it.

      Over the next hour, they reviewed office business, salary, benefits and other candidates Gage had brought into the agency. Slade Blackburn, agent. Benjamin Camp, a computer and tech specialist. Levi Stallings, former FBI profiler. Brock Running Deer, an expert tracker. Caleb Walker had special skills that he didn’t elaborate on. Colt Manson, a guns and weapons specialist. And he was trying to recruit a woman named Amanda Peterson, a renowned forensic anthropologist. Caleb and Colt hadn’t started yet, but Levi, Ben and Brock were on board.

      “Do we have a case now?” Derrick asked.

      Gage fingered a file. “Not at the moment. I sent Slade Blackburn to recover a young teenager who ran away. He called and will be bringing her back soon.”

      “Sounds good.”

      Gage nodded. “Yeah. The mother is a local, Carmel Foster. She’ll be thrilled to have her daughter, Julie, back home with her.”

      “That’s what it’s all about,” Derrick said. “Connecting families.”

      A smile curved Gage’s mouth. “Exactly. But we’re still growing the agency. I’d like you on board.”

      Derrick shrugged. “Hell, a few days off won’t hurt me. But I am ready to go back to work, just in case you’re wondering.”

      “I have no doubt.” Gage stood. “In fact, that’s why I wanted you here now. Leah and I plan to take a little second honeymoon. Ruby is staying with a friend. I need you to hold down the fort.”

      “I appreciate the opportunity,” Derrick said. “I won’t let you down.”

      Derrick shook his hand again, then strode down the steps and walked out into the cool December air. Christmas was coming, the town was lit up with decorations, winter on its way.

      But the holidays had never been high on his list. He’d seen too much over the years, had lost faith too damn long ago to think about singing Christmas carols or shopping.

      Besides, he had no one to shop for. No one to celebrate with. No one to share a cozy dinner or decorate a stupid tree.

      And that was fine with him.

      He climbed in his Jeep, stopped by the florist, picked up a bouquet of lilies, and drove to the cemetery on the edge of town. The little white church needed paint, but vibrant colors from the stained glass windows danced in the waning sunlight across the parched grass and dead leaves. Snow fluttered from the sky in a light downfall, sticking to branches and painting the graveyard in a soft white that made the grounds look almost ethereal, a contrast to the sadness there. A small blue sedan was parked in front of the church, and he wondered if it belonged to the minister or another visitor, but dismissed it without thought.

      Tugging his coat around him, he walked through the cemetery searching for Natalie’s marker. Sprays of flowers circled a grave in the distance, and he instantly realized it had to be hers. A lone figure stood beside it, burrowed in a coat, head bowed.

      He hesitated for a moment, then curiosity overcame him, and he picked his way through the rows of graves until he was close enough to see the figure more closely.

      The woman wore a long black coat, and as she leaned forward to place the flowers in the vase at the head of the marker, he spotted a bundle in her arms.

      A baby wrapped in a blanket.

      The two of them looked like angels in the midst of the snow, like a mirage so beautiful it couldn’t be real.

      Then she turned to leave, and he sucked in another pain-filled breath.

      It was Brianna Honeycutt, Natalie’s best friend. Brianna, beautiful Brianna. Brianna with the raven hair and sky blue eyes. Brianna with a voice that sounded like sugar and spice and everything nice. Brianna with skin like a porcelain doll, and a body like a goddess.

      Brianna who’d never wanted anything to do with him.

      Her face registered shock as she spotted him, and instant regret slammed into him. He’d never had the courage to talk to her when he was young.

      Then he’d slept with her best friend, a night that was a blur. Natalie had been in Raleigh, and they’d run into each other at a bar. He’d been upset about a case, and she’d had a sympathetic ear.

      Too many drinks later, and they’d ended up in bed. But they’d both known it meant nothing and had gone their separate ways.

      Judging from the glare Brianna sent him, she knew exactly what had happened that night and didn’t think too highly of him.

      His gaze dropped to the baby, and shock hit him. Brianna had a child? He hadn’t heard that she’d gotten married.

      A quick check to her finger and he saw there was no ring.

      “You have a child?” he asked, wondering who Brianna was involved with.

      She hesitated, her look wary, then stroked the baby’s dark blond head. “I adopted Natalie’s son. It was what she wanted.”

      A knot settled in his gut. He had kept up with the town through the online news and knew that she’d died in childbirth. “Of course.”

      Then the date of Natalie’s death flashed into his head, and the months fell away as he ticked them off in his head.

      The dark blond hair…Hair just like his.

      Was it possible that that baby was his?

      B RIANNA CLUTCHED BABY R YAN to her, a frisson of alarm ripping through her at the sight of Derrick McKinney.

      That same feeling of hopeless infatuation she’d felt as a young girl followed. Hopeless because he’d never even noticed her.

      Just as she remembered, he was tall, muscled and broad-shouldered. The wind tossed his wavy dark blond hair across his forehead, snow dotting his bronzed skin. His eyes were the color of espresso, a magnetic draw to them that made her body tingle with want. She could still see him dressed in all black, tearing around the mountain roads on that Harley.

      Sexuality leaked from his pores just as masculinity radiated off his big body. But even as need and desire swirled through her, fear sank like a rock in her stomach.

      He suddenly stalked toward her, his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as they raked over her and settled on the bundle in her arms.

      She’d wondered who the baby’s father was, and had feared it might be Derrick, but Natalie had insisted he wasn’t. Besides, he hadn’t been in Natalie’s life the last nine months, nor had he attended the funeral, so she’d assumed that if he was the father, he didn’t want anything to do with the little boy.

      “Brianna.”

      She stiffened. His voice sounded rough and deep, the sensuality in his tone igniting desire inside her.

      She had to get a grip. Had to steel herself against him. He’d slept with her best friend— not her .

      And she couldn’t forget it.

      Tears pricked her eyelids as she zeroed in on the bouquet in his hands. He’d even brought Natalie fresh flowers.

      Lilies—Brianna’s favorite.

      Natalie had loved roses.

      God, she was pathetic. Jealous over her friend because Derrick had obviously loved her.

      He cleared his throat. “I was sorry to hear about Natalie. How tragic.”

      Brianna couldn’t speak. Instead she swallowed back tears. As if the baby overheard the reminder that his mother was gone, he whimpered and began to fuss.

      “I know how close you two were.” He shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet. “This must be really hard for you.”

      She nodded. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I miss her every day.”

      His gaze dropped