AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He nodded. Smiled. But his tartare turned to a lump inside his gut, and he lost his appetite. “Yeah, can’t wait,” he said.
And really, this was for the best, right?
It wasn’t like he was giving up football. And she wasn’t giving up her career.
Besides, if he wanted a run at the NFL, he needed to listen to Waylen.
Focus.
Iris wasn’t his life—football was. And probably it was time to shake off his weird inner babysitter and get back to his life.
“I need to run,” he said and pushed away his chair.
“We’ll pick up lunch.”
Iris looked up at him, her face suddenly drawn. “You’re leaving?”
“I need to get home, hit the gym and get ready for my next game.” Oh, he wanted to reach down, pull her into his arms. Instead he swallowed, forced a smile.
She got up, however, and put her arms around his neck. Oh, she was a small thing next to him—he had to lean down. “Thank you.”
“Call me anytime,” he said softly.
“Thunder.”
He let her go, met her eyes. “See you on the field.” And then he walked away, forcing himself to forget the last five days.
* * *
It was for the best.Honestly. Really.
Iris had told herself exactly that as Hudson had walked away, toward the metro, back to where they’d come from only a few hours ago.
When he’d been her, what—partner on the lam?
Babysitter?
She blew out a long breath through the knotting in her chest and refused to let it rattle her.
Just friends. No,barelyfriends.
“I think we should find an Airbnb and hunker down here while we figure out what to do,” her father had said as he’d finished off his french fries.
Jonas had gotten out his phone then and found them a gigantic five-bedroom, five-bathroom townhouse steps from Saint-Sulpice, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, and overlooking the Jardin du Luxembourg.
Now, as the sun set over the skyscape of Paris, Iris sat on the rooftop deck that overlooked the mansard rooftops and towers of the two churches, listening to her brothers argue about what to do next.
Ned wanted her to go home and let him and Fraser figure out who was behind the hit. Jonas wanted her to return to Lake Como and to set up a perimeter there.
No one had asked her, really, what she wanted to do.
All her answers, pitifully, included Hudson.
Shoot, she’d depended on him too much.
“Glass of wine, honey?”
Her father stood in the doorway. “I cracked a bottle of Côtes du Rhône chard.” He held the glass by the stem and swirled it. “It’s good. Dry, but complex. Peach and pineapple tones. Probably good for the ramen noodles your brothers are cooking up.”
