Page 38 of Without Fail

What? Just what was Marshal?

Marshal was…his.

Damn it. Sure, they were only friends, but…

But what?

He had always wanted more.

He squeezed his hands into fists. He wanted to slap Marshal…and then what?

Kiss him.

Ryker closed his eyes. And that was a problem right there. Even though he’d dated through the years, he had never gotten over his crush.

He wanted to kiss Marshal Thomas and had for a long fucking time.

Thursday rolled around and Ryker heard Marshal and Bishop coming down the hallway. Making a right turn, Ryker hauled ass down the hall that would lead him to the kitchen.

“Ryker?” Marshal called after him, but he didn’t slow.

He wasn’t ready to talk to Marshal right then. Hell, he wasn’t prepared to talk to the guy for the next freaking year.

Humiliation didn’t begin to describe his feelings. To think that he’d tried to hook up with a married man. Well, technically, Marshal wasn’t married, but he was in a common-law relationship and that was the same in his mind.

All those months they’d worked side by side and Marshal had never said a word about his woman or his kids.

Not. One. Fucking. Word.

He stormed into the kitchen and snatched a piece of garlic bread from the cutting board where Mrs. Clare was assembling the pile for the lunch table.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, tearing off a bite with a gnashing of teeth as he stomped out the other end of the room. Entering the back hallway that would lead him in either the direction of the terrarium or the outside grounds, he chose the grounds.

The maze designed by his grandfather was an easy place to avoid Marshal.

Or so he thought as he reached the middle of the maze.

“There isn’t a place on this estate that you can hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding.” Ryker tipped his chin and glanced up.

He’d taken a seat on one of the numerous stone benches throughout the maze and he now regretted it when faced with Marshal’s massive size looming over him.

But he wasn’t going to stand up. This was his home, damn it, and he wasn’t going to let Marshal…

What?

Apologize? Give excuses? Hear about his lovely common-law wife and children?

His heart hurt and his eyes stung and it pissed him off.

“What do you want?” Yes, his tone was belligerent, but he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry.”

Okay, that caught him off guard. Marshal wasn’t one to apologize. And just what was the guy sorry about? That was the question now, wasn’t it?

“About?” he challenged.

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