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Fraser stood at the open sliding door. “Get in here.”
What? He picked up his pace, and Fraser shut the door behind him.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s a car driving up. Unknown.”
“Are we worried?”
“We’re always worried, Hud,” Fraser said. “We’re guarding the princess of Lauchtenland.”
Right.
Okay. Because suddenly the house had turned into a black ops site, the television off, the family in the den, and Fraser and Pippa with their guns drawn.
He joined the family in the den. “So, this happens often?”
“Let’s just say we don’t order a lot of pizza delivery,” Creed said. He and Imani had turned their video game volume off, but still directed their player around the screen.
Iris was watching the game on her phone. Seriously?
The doorbell rang, and their dog started to bark.
Jenny gathered the golden retriever up in her arms. “Shh.”
“Are they going to shoot someone?”
“Probably not,” Imani said. “Aw, I’m dead.” She threw down her controller, looked at Creed.
“Sorry,” he said, grinning.
She threw a pillow at him.
“Hudson! Get in here!”
Everyone stilled, and Hudson walked to the door, then the entryway.
A man stood in the entry, something familiar about him.
“Gripe Carlson. We met in Germany. At the Thunder dinner.”
“Gripe. Wow. Uh…” Hud looked at Fraser, who gave him a look. “How did you find me?”
“Waylen. Who got your address from, ah, let’s see, maybe your coach? I don’t know. Anyway, I know what you said, or what Waylen said, but I thought maybe we could have a face-to-face, just talk it out. Could sure you use you on the team.”
The rest of the family had come out to stand in the hallway. Oh, this was awkward. “Uh, Gripe, I—”
“Listen. Smells great in here—I’m actually on my way to Minneapolis. There’s a dinner tomorrow night. Something casual with some of the team members and coaching staff in the area. Come to it. Let’s talk there, okay?”
And what was he going to say? “Sure.”
Gripe held out his hand again, and Hud shook it.
“Can’t wait,” Gripe said. He lifted a hand to the rest of them. “Enjoy the game.”
The game? Oh. That’s when he noticed Iris’s maroon-and-gold sweatshirt.
Fraser closed the door after him. Turned to Hud, his expression tight. “So, who else knows where you and Iris are hiding?”
