Her Protector (Boston Doms Book 3)

by Jane Henry

  Tony had already polished off his blueberry muffin and reached for the cranberry.

  “Either you were starving, or that was one good muffin,” she said, as she still had two thirds of hers left and he was already starting in on his second.

  “It wasn’t as good as a pumpkin, but I’ll take it,” he said, his eyes twinkling at her. “And anyway, I’ve gotta eat plenty of carbs to maintain my chiseled physique,” he said sarcastically. He patted his belly. Though he was far from overweight, he was a good-sized guy. Tessa never had gone for the tall, lanky type. Something about Tony’s large, well-padded frame made her feel small and feminine. She snorted as she intentionally took a large bite of the pumpkin muffin.

  “This one’s delicious,” she said, smacking her lips. “Just the right balance of sweet and spice.” She closed her eyes and moaned, licking her lips. When she opened them again, she noticed his eyes had gone half-lidded and his Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. Um, oops. She hadn’t meant to make the muffin-teasing into a sexual escapade. He was, after all, her boss, though the thought of him really being attracted to her was pretty much the best thing that happened to her all month… hell, all year.

  She took a swig of Diet Coke, placed the muffin to the side, and sat up straighter. “So, are we all set for the Martin party this evening?”

  He nodded and sat up straighter himself. “John’s got the pastry sorted, Rao says the menu is ready to go, and all preparations are in full swing. Oh, and Nicole is coming early to help set up.”

  Rao had been promoted from wait staff to the kitchen, and Nicole was head waitress. Perfect.

  “Oh, hey, I have a problem, though. Maybe you can help me?” he asked.

  Hell, yeah, she could help him. Maybe he’d say something like, “I have this itch right behind my shoulder blades. Would you mind scratching?” or “My neck is really tight and maybe you can help massage out this knot…”

  God, Tessa. Get a freaking grip!

  “What’s up?” She was eager to hear what he needed. Sure, he was her boss, and yes, he was on the rebound having broken up with Val just a few weeks before, but hell if she didn’t want to get on his good side.

  “My car’s in the shop,” he said. Ah, so that explained why it wasn’t in the employee parking lot. “Matteo took me in this morning, but has to be at The Club this afternoon and can’t take me to go pick up my car.” Her stomach began to clench, and she had a sinking feeling as he continued. “Is there any way you can take me? It’s just a few miles from here and should be ready by four, which gives me enough time to pick it up and be back here for the Martin party.”

  Oh, God. He wanted a ride? How would she hide all her stuff? She couldn’t! There was too much of it. But she couldn’t lie to him, either. Her passenger seat was teeming with clothes, and the back seat was literally nothing but bags and boxes.

  She should tell him no. She had to come up with some excuse. But what? She couldn’t tell him her car wasn’t working. Duh. It was right in the employee parking lot. She didn’t have plans because she had to be there for the Martin party anyway. She blinked. Shit! She was not good at thinking on her feet.

  And this was a chance to do a favor for her favorite person in the entire world.

  “Sure,” she said helplessly, nodding, trying her very best to pretend her world wasn’t imploding, and that she was so totally nonchalant about everything. She’d find a way to move her stuff before then. She would have to. “Yeah, I can take you.”

  He stood, flashing that Angelico brother grin that should’ve been outlawed. It wasn’t fair what it did to a woman. She swallowed, and feigned having her shit together as she smiled back.

  “Thanks, Tess,” he said, brushing the crumbs off her desk and into the bag. He crumpled it up, turned to the wastebasket, bent at the knees and shot. It bounced off the rim and fell to the floor. She stood and picked it up, shooting it in the way he did, but this time, she scored.

  “Show off,” he muttered, shaking his head, but his eyes twinkled as he left her office.

  She thought of her car filled with all her worldly possessions, as she watched his retreating figure. She slumped against the side of her desk. Tony made everything seem so simple and straight-forward.

  Why couldn’t things be that way for her?

  * * *

  It was lunchtime, but she was still full from the muffin and too nervous to eat, anyway. She worked with Tony every single day, but ever since the day Val had pushed her over the edge at Heidi and Dom’s rehearsal dinner, things had been different. Val had accused her of hitting on Tony, but Tessa had been nothing but professional. When Val finally mumbled the word “slut,” Tessa had completely snapped, snagging a glass of red wine off the table and tossing it full force at Val. She’d met her mark completely, and was secretly pleased to see Val’s furious expression accompanied by a high-pitched shriek.

  Val’s flip-out over that incident had pushed Tony to do what Tessa and every single member of the staff at Cara had wanted to do ever since Val had set her first Valentino stiletto in the door. He broke up with her. Hillary secretly gave Tessa a high-five, and John and Rao had been thrilled. They all kept their responses from Tony, however, who was brooding, but seemed somehow relieved.

  Tessa wasn’t sure if it was her guilty conscience or the fact that all the men she hung out with were dominants at The Club, but she had expected a stern lecture from Tony. She felt she’d deserved it. Even though Val was out of line, Tessa knew giving way to her temper never ended well for anyone. She was raised by a mother with a raging anger issue, and Tessa had a hard time controlling her anger when she was pushed. But Tony never said a word. He’d taken Val home, and the next day at the wedding, had bought her a drink.

  After that drink, she and Tony had talked until the wee hours of the morning. She’d been doing her best to prove to him that she wasn’t the crazy bitch who threw glasses of wine at people.

  She would not do what she had done all through her teen years. No, she would not.

  Her dresses and jeans always hid the scars on her thighs and she would die a thousand deaths before she would ever reveal to Tony, Hillary, or any of her friends at Cara or The Club that she was more than a masochist who craved spanking, but really what her mother called her regularly: fucked up.

  Tessa shook her head. No. She had worked too damn hard to go down that rabbit trail of degradation again. She was not fucked up. Her high school guidance counselor, Mrs. Evans, would chew her out for that. Hell, even her little sister Nora would shake her head and stomp her foot and tell her not to go there. Her mother was the one who was fucked up. Tessa was strong, and capable, and better than that.

  Tessa sat at her desk and lifted the edge of her dress just slightly, touching the raised scars that were the only remnants of the out-of-control girl she once was. Her hand shook slightly as she tentatively touched the deepest scar she had, the one on her left leg, the one that she’d opened up over and over again. The one that had finally caught the attention of her friend in high school, who had gone straight to Mrs. Evans. Tessa hadn’t spoken to her friend for months over that. But it was the turning point in her life.

  She shoved her dress down and pushed to her feet, just as a knock came on her office door.

  “Come in!” she yelled. She typically kept her office door open, but today she’d needed some privacy. The door opened, and Hillary stepped in.

  God, Hillary looked amazing. She was always cute, and so pixie-like Matteo had nicknamed her “Tinker Bell.” But now she fairly glowed.

  “Hey, babe,” Hillary said cheerfully, stepping into the office. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, I was just stepping out for a few minutes,” Tessa said. “Need to run a few errands.” Her few errands involved finding a place to shove all the belongings that were littering her car so Tony could find a place to sit.

  “You wanna go grab some lunch?” Hill asked, and Tessa shook her head.

  “Sorry, not today
, Hill. Got too much to do. How are you and Matt doing?”

  Hillary flushed and lowered her eyes. Tessa giggled. That was a good sign.

  “Oh my gosh,” Hillary whispered. “Amazing! And I finally got the rest of my stuff moved into his place this weekend. Well, I should say he got it moved in because you know the Angelico brothers. He was all, ‘Don’t lift a thing,’” she said, in a deep voice that sounded familiar. Tessa giggled, as Hillary continued her imitation. “I’m the one who carries the heavy shit. You go get the towels.”

  Tessa smirked, but looked over Hillary’s shoulder and widened her eyes. “Oh, hi, Matteo,” she said. “We were just talking about you!”

  Hillary gasped and swirled around, as Tessa burst into laughter.

  Hillary turned back to Tessa, her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed. “Oh my God,” she hissed. “I am so gonna get you—” but she was silenced, as Matteo came up behind her and wrapped strong arms around her.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, as he waved to Tessa. “S’up, Tess.”

  Tessa waved back, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “What’s up, Matt? Hoping to catch some of Rao’s tortellini before you hit The Club?”

  Matteo shook his head as his eyes danced. “Am I that predictable?”

  “Yes,” said both girls in unison.

  He gave Hillary a teasing swat and waved a finger at Tessa. “You two watch it,” he said warningly, and Tessa merely stuck her tongue out at him. Though Matteo occasionally played the role of Dungeon Master at The Club, Tessa had strategically made sure she never ended up playing a scene when he was around. It was just too weird at work. He knew she went, and he was friendlier to her than ever at The Club since Val outed her at the rehearsal dinner, but they kept their distance.

  Tessa loved playing the part of submissive, and did it well.

  But Matteo wasn’t the Angelico brother Tessa wanted to submit to.

  She glanced at the clock. If she moved quickly enough, she would have just enough time to stash the contents of her front seat behind the dumpster, and pray to God no one would find it. The rest would have to be explained away. She sighed as she stepped quickly out of Cara’s. She’d done her very best to move past this shit, the sneaking, and the anxiety, the nerves and pressure.

  When would she get her shit together for real?

  Chapter Two

  From somewhere beneath the mountain of papers on his desk, Tony’s phone chirped and drew his attention away from the computer screen for the first time in hours. He shoved his chair back and rubbed the knot that had formed in his neck.

  God, he hated spending time behind a desk when he could be out in the kitchen.

  But things were looking good. Damn good. Income had been consistently high all summer and didn’t appear to be slowing too much, even as the weather turned colder and tourist season ended. Costs were down, well, only slightly, but that was still a win. Cara looked to turn a profit again this quarter. And the mountain of debt he’d accumulated during last spring’s renovation and unexpected kitchen repairs would finally, finally be paid off.

  He typed out a quick email to Tess—I read your report. Looks awesome. Keep doing what you’re doing.

  And it really was her doing. He knew his control freak brothers would shake their heads at him for not keeping stricter control over every single detail of his business finances, but he’d opened his restaurant so he could cook, not crunch numbers. Profit and loss, cash flow reports, tracking capital expenses—all that shit gave him hives, and he was man enough to own the fact that he sucked at it.

  No coincidence that ten months after he’d hired the lovely and talented Miss Damon as front end manager, they’d had their third profitable quarter. He didn’t know exactly how she did it, and God knew he didn’t want to. But she’d done it. She’d helped him take his dream, which had quickly turned into a nightmare of overdue bills and employment hassles, and make it into a thriving business.

  His phone chirped again, and with a sigh he sifted through the papers until he found it.

  And then quickly wished he hadn’t.

  Tony, I really need to talk to you. CALL ME.

  Tony clicked the screen off and tossed the phone down on the desk as irritation pooled in the pit of his stomach. Another day, another annoying text message from Val, the ex-girlfriend who just wouldn’t go away.

  He scrubbed a hand over his forehead.

  Part of him, a big part, wanted to call her and tell her flat out to get the fuck out of his life. Now that they were apart, he could see just how messed up things between them had been from the very beginning, and the whole thing disgusted him—her constant whining and demands, her superficial, materialistic insistence on looking the best, having the best, no matter the cost.

  But an even larger part of him recognized his weak-assed passivity in allowing her to get her own way, his own role in the debacle, and he was able to rein in his temper. Yeah, at the time he’d thought that giving in was his way of supporting her, of showing that he cared, but now he could see that he’d been wrong. The relationship hadn’t been healthy, not for either of them. And not for the people around them.

  His mind helpfully dredged up an image of a shaking, sobbing, humiliated Tess running out of the function room during his brother Dominic’s rehearsal dinner last month. Val had accused Tony of being attracted to Tess, and accused Tess of trying to seduce Tony, on the basis of nothing more than a few shared looks and smiles. He sighed.

  It sucked that it had come to that. It sucked that Tess had gotten hurt. But that moment had made him realize, far more effectively than the hundred lectures from his brothers or the red numbers on his bank balance, just how doomed his relationship with Val had been. Because his first thought, beyond shock and anger, had been, “Christ, don’t I wish Tess had tried to seduce me!”

  Followed quickly by, “Well, shit. Val’s right. I am attracted to Tess.”

  So it was kind of hard to stay mad at Val, because in some ways she’d been the smartest one of all of them. She’d known that his heart hadn’t been in the relationship long before Tony had figured that fact out for himself, and she’d called him out on an attraction to Tess that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

  Of course, that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to Val ever again, either.

  He grabbed the phone and stared at it, debating if and how to reply, when a knock on the doorframe of his open office door had him glancing up…

  And promptly swallowing his tongue.

  Jesus.

  Auburn hair had fallen from her clip to frame her pale, heart-shaped face. Those clear brown eyes that showed every emotion were undercut with pale lavender shadows that made her seem more fragile than he knew her to be. And that dress—that thin green thing that looked like it had been poured over her, hugging every curve, was tied in a cute little bow that just begged him to unwrap her like it was his birthday and she was his present. Just the sight of her had him growing hard and scooting his chair under the desk to hide it.

  Most of the time, he was prepared to see her—his body on a low-level lockdown that enabled him to look at her and actually converse with her without stammering or springing an erection like a fucking teenager. But other times? Shit. Her beauty just stunned him.

  “Hey,” she said. “Ready to go?”

  “Go?” He blinked, dazed.

  She smiled. “To the mechanic?” She said each word slowly, teasing him. “To get your car?” She put her two hands out on an imaginary steering wheel and pretended to drive.

  He shook his head to clear it. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I, uh… I was looking at the reports you sent and lost track of time,” he explained.

  “Ohh!” she said with a knowing wink, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. “The numbers have all started to dance before your eyes, haven’t they?”

  Tony felt the corner of his mouth twitch. She knew him well.

  “You should’ve waited and read the report right before bed,” Tess continue
d, her eyes twinkling. “No tossing and turning. You’d be out like a light.” She snapped her fingers in illustration.

  Tony snorted and rolled his eyes. “I can think of better ways to relax before bed.”

  He didn’t process the words as he spoke them, and it was too late to call them back. And damn, now he was watching her and thinking about all the many, many ways they could…

  She cleared her throat, a tiny, nervous sound, and his cock twitched.

  Gah! Down, boy. You’re her boss, for God’s sake, and her friend.

  He took a deep breath and sailed on, as though he hadn’t just been imagining her luscious body spread out on his sheets. “Uh, you know, like, uh… reading books. Watching old episodes of MacGyver on Netflix. That kind of thing.”

  She nodded slowly. “I like reading,” she said. And was he imagining that her voice was husky?

  Stop. It.

  “Um, awesome job, by the way,” he told her, lifting a hand toward the computer monitor where the monthly profit and loss was still displayed. “Honest to God, Tess, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Oh!” she stammered shyly, maybe surprised by his change of topic. “It’s, you know, no big deal.”

  “It is to me.”

  Her face flushed pink and she lowered her eyes in a way that only made the problem he was hiding under the desk even worse. Damn it. He had no fucking control where this girl was concerned.

  “Hey, could you give me a minute? Almost ready to go. I’ve just got to, uh… you know,” he said lamely, not sure how to finish the sentence.

  Adjust myself? Think about Mrs. Cuddy, the pinch-faced old battleax who screamed at me incessantly through three years of JV soccer? Recite the multiplication table? Do anything but stare at you.

  “Finish your text?” she supplied, glancing down at the phone in his hands.

  “Yes. Exactly. Send a text,” he agreed, relieved.