Page 17 of Without Fail

No, and he was sure Marshal had been just as affected as him. Right?

Only looking at Marshal now, Ryker couldn’t be sure of anything because the man was a closed book. Damn it.

“I’ve spoken to Cohen and invested in Light Bright,” Donald told Marshal.

The man looked confident in a black two-piece Brioni suit that perfectly fit his frame. Donald reeked of money and power, but Ryker couldn’t remember ever meeting anyone with the last name of Bass there in Denver. Perhaps the guy was from new money or had recently moved here.

“Good for you,” Marshal growled and clamped a hand around Ryker’s forearm. “We were just leaving.”

“We were?” Ryker echoed, but secretly thrilled at the sudden possessiveness.

“Yep,” Marshal drawled the one word and pulled him toward the exit.

“Bye, Donald, nice to meet you,” Hailey called out as she too was dragged along due to her death grip on Ryker’s other arm.

When they reached the exit, Marshal guided him out to the parking lot and over to the sports car.

“Sorry, there’s only room for two,” Marshal told Hailey before he pulled the woman’s hand from his arm and tucked him behind the wheel.

Hailey’s two bodyguards stood behind her and she shot Marshal a look of loathing.

Ryker was thrilled and tried not to snicker, but he failed. He made sure to school his features when Marshal slid into the passenger seat.

“I’m starving,” Ryker said, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

“I could eat, but let’s go home for food. Trying to keep you safe in a crowded restaurant is almost impossible.”

“Wait…what?” Ryker shot Marshal a squinty look.What the hell?“Keep me safe?”

Marshal stared at him and Ryker pulled over to the side of the road in a no-parking zone.

“You’ll get a ticket.”

“I’ll pay it,” he snapped. “Why do you need to keep me safe?”

“You’ve seen the extra bodyguards and the FBI.”

“My dad told me they were there to handle some business with you.”

“What kind of business do you think the FBI handles?”

“White collar stuff. Kidnapping.”

“Right.” Marshal pulled a hand over his perfectly cropped mustache and beard.

“Tell me right now or I’m not fucking going home,” Ryker hissed.

“The family received a viable threat.”

“How viable.”

“Enough to call in the FBI,” Marshal said, staring out the windshield.

On the one hand, it pissed Ryker off that Marshal was deliberately avoiding his eyes, but on the other hand, he wanted to ease the pressure Marshal must be under trying to keep them safe.

“What do I need to do?” he asked softly and Marshal finally turned to look at him.

“Are you serious?”

---