Page 44 of Ned

But frankly, he’d seen the guy watching her—watching them, really, because the man’s eyes had followed Hudson the moment he walked up to the plaque. Stayed on him when he moved over to the nave.

Then Iris had walked in, and Hudson had noticed him turn said attention to her. So yes, when he’d made a move toward her, maybe Hudson’s instincts just kicked him. Call him crazy, but they’d just seen someone stabbed, right there in the open.

And he wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to Iris. Yes, he didn’t like her, and her know-it-all attitude drove him a little crazy—more than she knew, probably—but they were partners, at least in that moment.

So yeah, when the guy in the black jacket had made a move, so had Hudson.

Hadn’t expected for a second to be ambushed by brother number two and land on his face on the travertine floor.

“Let’s run the play one more time.” Coach Max turned and tossed the ball to Jack Ernst, their QB, and Hud ran up to the huddle.

“You need me to walk the ball to you, Bly?” Jack said.

“Just throw me a pass I don’t have to hurt myself to catch.” He knew what Coach Max had said, but frankly, Jack’s passes were often just above his fingertips, and he was already six-three. More than once, after jumping to catch a high ball, the cornerback had taken Hud out at his knees, the fall to earth nearly jolting out his breath.

Or maybe he was just getting old. Although, he wasn’t quite ready to throw in his career at twenty-eight.

All of the offensive team spoke English: native for the three Americans and two Brits, and the rest—Ezzio, the Spanish tight end, a Swede at guard, and three Austrians—had learned it as a second language, so Jack called off the play in English.

They broke, and Hudson took his position on the outside, just a step back from the line of scrimmage. Jack sounded off and Hudson took off, in motion to the other side. Ran up to the line of scrimmage, set.

Jack snapped the ball.

The defensive player was still catching up when Hud took off. He crossed the line of scrimmage, juked to the right, then cut inside, running hard. Turned at midfield and the ball was right there, arrowing in, just over his head.

He leaped and pulled it in with one arm, clutching it to his chest, landed and turned.

The safety hit him from behind, but he took two steps before he fell, curling up to protect the ball.

The cold ground jarred his bones, but he held on, despite the two-hundred-plus weight pinning him. Because that’s how it was done.

Bam.

They made ’em big in Germany, and the safety, a Luis Spiegel, took his time getting off Hud. But he extended his hand to his teammate and helped Hud to his feet.

“Schöner Fang,” Luis said and banged on his shoulder pad as Hud tossed the ball to Coach Max.

“Danke,” Hud said, then gathered in as Coach Clay blew the whistle.

Jack met his fist, and they huddled up, listening to the instructions for tomorrow’s away exhibition.

But again, his mind seemed to unlatch, to travel back to Paris and the moments after Iris’s brother Fraser had told him to bring her home.

I don’t need his protection, Fraser. I can get home on my own.

Iris. Fraser had called her ornery. Hudson probably hadn’t needed to add the snarky comment, but he couldn’t help it. Her brother had nailed it.

He’d called an Uber, and while driving to Charles de Gaulle Airport, had pulled up flights.

“There’s an EasyJet flight at six p.m. that gets you into Milan by seven-thirty. I’ll have you home by nine and then…”

“What? You’ll sleep on my couch?”

Maybe.

“Listen, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve lived on my own in Europe for three years. I own my own apartment in Italy. I travel every single week, to countries all over Europe. I know Barcelona, Cologne, Frankfurt, Warsaw, most of Germany and Austria, especially Italy, and even Paris like I was born there. I speak three languages well, and two passingly, I have an international driver’s license, and most of all, I can get on a flight all by myself. Even buckle in. And stay seated even if the seat belt sign is off. I know it’s risky—I mean, I could end up in Greece—but I think I can get home by myself.”

Then she’d looked at him, her eyebrow raised.

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