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“Yeah, we are over.”
“Come again?”
“I want dessert,” Ryker announced, ignoring him and jumping down from the waist-high wall.
“You just had burgers and fries,” Marshal grumbled, wanting to fire off fifty questions about Hailey, but he held his tongue.
It really wasn’t any of his business if Ryker and Hailey broke up. Was it? No. Then why did he have the sudden urge to yank Ryker into his arms and brand the man’s mouth with his own?
“So?” Ryker said, interrupting his musings. “There’s always room for ice cream.”
Marshal glanced at his watch. “We’d need to leave now to catch the place before it closes.” He could have saved his breath, Ryker was already sprinting to the car.
The bell buzzed when he held the ice cream shop’s door open for Ryker to walk into the crowded place.
With two scoops for Ryker, Marshal saw a table for two open up and snagged that.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Ryker said around a bite of chocolate and mint chip.
“I’ll pass,” he grimaced, hating sweets of any kind.
Ryker had his free hand on the table while gobbling up the treat and Marshal reached out to lift the man’s hand. He ran his thumb over the scars on the back of Ryker’s hand where the glass had cut just shy of the man’s tendons. The feel of the skin beneath his fingers had his cock thickening and he swallowed back a groan.
Blinking, Ryker’s spoon poised at his mouth, ice cream dripping, before the man took a hasty bite.
“What?”
“I need you to be careful.” Marshal squeezed the man’s slender hand.
“I’m careful.” Ryker waved the empty spoon around before dipping it again. “The car accident wasn’t my fault.”
Marshal sighed, gazed up at the ceiling, and then released his grip. He placed his hand beneath the table and fisted it for a moment and then dug into his pocket. When he pulled out the silver bracelet that Alex had given him, Ryker’s eyes went wide.
And for a moment, he wished that delicate silver chain was something other than what it was. He wanted to give Ryker jewelry that he had picked out.
But he could never do that.
Marshal attached the chain-link around Ryker’s wrist and brushed his thumb over the silver.
“What’s this for?”
“What? Can’t I give you something?” he grumbled around the white lie, not wanting the argument he knew would result if Ryker discovered the bracelet’s real purpose.
Although the delicate silver with its reinforced steel beneath its shiny exterior wasn’t technically from him, Marshal liked the fact that he had been the one to attach it to Ryker.
As if it stated ownership.
Get that shit right out of your head.
He scowled and removed his hand. He needed to remember why he was here.
“You done?”
“No, I just started, geez.” Ryker shook his wrist, studying the bracelet all the while taking bites of ice cream. Minty colored cream covered Ryker’s bottom lip at each bite only to be licked away every time with a swipe of his tongue.
Marshal watched for as long as he could stand it and then stood abruptly.
“I need some air,” he muttered and headed out the shop’s door.
