Her Protector (Boston Doms Book 3)

by Jane Henry

  “Is it to Matt?” she asked, taking a step forward and looking down at his phone. “Because I wanted to ask him—”

  He recognized the exact moment she read Val’s name upside down.

  She straightened, she flushed, and for just one second, her eyes flashed with a mixture of confusion and hurt that seared his gut.

  She turned away. “I’ll just wait in the car,” she said stiffly.

  He closed his eyes briefly as she walked out.

  He wanted to explain, but what the hell would he say? Besides, obviously his dick needed a reality check. Tessa Damon wasn’t for the likes of him. Because among her other revelations at the rehearsal dinner, Val had told him and everyone else in earshot that Tess was a submissive. One who liked to hang out at The Club where Matteo worked and let herself be bossed around, dominated, by men.

  It was still hard to wrap his mind around the concept. Tess, the woman who took no shit from even the surliest of the line cooks and had actually tossed a glass of red wine in Val’s face, enjoyed that kind of thing? But the look on Matteo’s face had confirmed it.

  She wanted a guy like his brothers—a testosterone-oozing badass type, the kind who always needed to be in charge and get his way, the kind who had no problem spanking a woman’s ass as long as she allowed it.

  Dom and Matteo were good men, the best. They adored Heidi and Hillary. And Tony didn’t give a shit what they did behind closed doors.

  But he wasn’t like them. The very idea of hurting Tess, of anyone hurting Tess, set his protective instincts aflame and had him gripping the edge of the desk.

  It’s none of your fucking business, he reminded himself. She’s not yours.

  And the helpless anger that overcame him with that thought cooled his ardor in a way that all the multiplication tables in the world couldn’t.

  He flung himself back from the desk, shoved his cell in his pocket, grabbed his keys, and walked out, closing the office door behind him with a vicious slam.

  * * *

  “You’re gonna have to direct me,” Tess said softly as she steered her little blue car down Storrow Drive.

  They were practically the first words they’d spoken to one another since he’d gotten in the car, and they did nothing to calm his temper.

  Neither did the way her dress rode up her legs each time she shifted in her seat, exposing a row of golden brown freckles on her creamy white thigh. Nor the way she modestly pulled the dress back down at regular intervals, hiding those intriguing freckles from his view.

  “Take the Kenmore exit,” he said brusquely. “It’s coming up.”

  She put on her blinker and moved to the right hand lane without comment.

  He sighed.

  None of this was her fault—not his irritation at Val, nor his inability to be an alpha superhero like his brothers, nor his lack of control over his damn cock. She was doing him a favor. And he was being an asshole.

  “Sorry,” he said with a sigh.

  She glanced over at him, then back at the road, and he noticed again that her eyes looked tired. Worn out. She exhaled slowly and shrugged. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not,” he disagreed. After a moment, he continued, “Val’s texted me a few times. I haven’t responded. I don’t want to give in to her, and I don’t want to talk to her. I think I’m going to have to block her.”

  Traffic in the right-hand lane all but stopped and he realized belatedly that there was a Sox game tonight. They’d be crawling all the way to the mechanic.

  Wasn’t that the fucking cherry on the sundae?

  His irritation ratcheted up another notch and he fumed silently.

  Tess darted another glance at him.

  “I think you should talk to her,” she said.

  Tony grunted, a sound of disagreement.

  “Seriously. What if she’s trying to tell you that she’s pregnant?”

  God, now there was a thought to make his balls shrivel in his pants.

  “I used a condom every time and we haven’t had sex in four months,” he said flatly. “It’d be a little late now.”

  “Gahhhh! Jeez, Tony! TMI, much?” she said, as if disgusted, but he just shrugged. It was the truth, and anyway, she was the one who’d brought it up.

  “Oookay, well… what if she found a million dollars in loose change under the seat cushion and she wants to share it with you?”

  Tony snorted, though he felt his bad mood start to lighten with her attempt at humor. “She can keep it.”

  Tess snickered. “Wow! Big talk! What’s the weather like where you live, Mr. Moneybags?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying, I don’t want to spend another minute with her, even for half a million dollars.”

  “Idealistic. I respect that,” Tess mused, auburn strands dancing around her face as she nodded. “But let me just say that for half a million dollars, I’d tie you up, toss you in the back seat, and deliver you to her,” she teased.

  Against all odds, Tony found himself fighting a smile. “That’s how much your loyalty is worth? Only half a mill?” He clutched his chest in mock disappointment. “I’m heartbroken, Damon. I’m worth ten mill at least.”

  An expression Tony couldn’t decipher crossed her beautiful face before she smiled halfheartedly.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’d deliver Matt for half that,” she offered.

  Somehow, absurdly, it did. Plus, the idea of Matteo all trussed up and dumped on Val’s doorstep…

  “I might have to take you up on that,” he told her. And then she glanced up at him quickly, their eyes met, and they both burst out laughing.

  “To be honest, though,” he said, glancing in the back seat of her car for the first time, “I don’t think there’s room for either one of us back there.”

  Two clear plastic totes full of clothes were stacked on the seat behind Tess, and a cardboard box of books had been squished onto the floor beneath. Craning his head, he saw more totes and boxes piled behind him, along with a small bag of food and a bundled up sleeping bag stowed on the floor.

  He vaguely remembered overhearing her talk to Hillary the other day.

  He smacked his forehead with his palm.

  “Ah, shit! You’re moving aren’t you? I completely forgot!”

  She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

  “Why didn’t you schedule some time off?” he demanded. “And I would have helped!”

  “Oh, look!” she interrupted. “Traffic’s moving. Which street do I take?”

  “Bear right, down Park Drive, then your second right onto Queensborough.”

  She looked at him with something like suspicion in her wide eyes. “I thought you said we were going to a mechanic!” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. My friend Nick is a mechanic, and he rents a couple parking spots behind a building where he does light repairs—oil changes, belts, tires, that kind of shit. The stuff you don’t need a lift to… Wait, why would you think we weren’t going to the mechanic?” he asked.

  Tess took a deep breath. “I’m just familiar with this street, that’s all. And I didn’t remember a garage.”

  Tony stared at her in confusion as she focused all of her attention on the road, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

  “Tess?” His voice was low and serious.

  She sighed. “The Club is on this street,” she said reluctantly.

  He sat back in his seat. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I knew it was in this neighborhood somewhere. But why in the world would you think I’d want to go there?” he asked.

  Like the place was a leper colony. Could you be more of an asshole, Tony?

  Her face flushed. “I… I didn’t. I guess I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his head in frustration. Would there ever be a time when he wasn’t putting his foot in his mouth with this girl?

  “No, I’m sorry. Again. And I have nothing against the place, I’ve just never been there, that’s all. Which cle
arly puts me in the minority among my friends and family,” he said, only partly joking. “Some of my favorite people hang out there.”

  She looked at him shyly. “But you never, uh…”

  Her hand fluttered through the air, as though she was too embarrassed to finish the thought. Despite the seriousness of the topic, she was so freakin’ adorable he found himself grinning again.

  “Never, uh, what?” he asked.

  She shot him a sideways glare.

  “Spit it out, Damon,” he drawled.

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’ve never been interested in kink?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not into the whole pain-thing, giving or receiving.”

  “Well, right,” she said slowly. “A lot of people aren’t into pain.” He noticed that she didn’t say whether she was into it. “I meant the other stuff.”

  He looked over at her skeptically. “You mean giving rules, that kind of stuff? It’s kinda all the same thing, isn’t it? Just an excuse for the pain.”

  She maneuvered the car into an empty spot on the side of the street and turned to look at him fully. “Are you kidding?” Her eyes held his and he frowned.

  “Kidding about what?”

  “There’s a big difference between dominance and submission as opposed to sadism and masochism,” she said. “And it’s not all physical. There’s an emotional connection, a level of trust between a submissive and her partner. That’s the best part.”

  The autumn sun was low in the sky, turning her brown eyes to a glowing topaz. He could smell her perfume—something musky and citrusy. There was no place in the world he would rather be at this moment.

  There was no topic he was less excited to discuss.

  He shrugged and blew out a breath. “To be honest, I haven’t really researched all the subtleties,” he told her, wincing at the defensiveness in his own voice.

  She shook her head, incredulous. “It’s not really a subtle difference, Tony. It’s like the difference between… I dunno… Monster trucks and televised golf.”

  “God, the things you say, Damon!” He grinned appreciatively. Who else on earth could make him laugh about this shit, while looking like a wet dream come to life and staring at him like he was a moron? Answer: not one single other person. And maybe that was why his voice was soft and remorseful as he told her, “You may be right, but I’m not really into either one.”

  Her head went back and she sucked in a breath. Then she nodded slowly and straightened in her seat, tugging her skirt down her thighs once again.

  He grabbed the door handle and pushed the door open.

  “See you back at the restaurant?” he asked.

  “You know it, boss!” she chirped. She tossed him a smile, but her eyes didn’t meet his. And once again, he noticed how tired she looked. Was she getting enough rest?

  Damn it.

  “Hey, thanks for the lift,” he said.

  He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at him.

  Her eyes softened. “Anytime, Tony.”

  He smiled. “And thanks for the advice.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Are you actually going to call her?” she demanded, smiling.

  “What? And deprive you of your ransom payment when you deliver me? Tessa, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  She grinned at him fully, a wide white smile that made his heart stop.

  She’s not yours, idiot.

  He got out of the car, stood on the curb, slammed the door shut behind him, and raised his hand in a wave. But as she pulled out into the road and he watched her drive away, he still felt like he’d lost something very precious.

  * * *

  “Night, Tony!” Nicole called, raising her hand in a salute.

  Tony glanced up from the rack of veal he’d been prepping for tomorrow, his hands coated in garlic, olive oil, and rosemary, and he frowned.

  “Everything cleaned up already?” he asked, glancing at the clock. It felt like only a few minutes since he’d said goodnight to Max and Virginia Martin, and congratulated them one final time on their silver wedding anniversary.

  Nicole shook her head. “Nah, not quite. They’re almost done, though, so Tess said I could bounce. There’s a band at The Cask and my friends are saving me a seat,” she said, as though this should explain everything.

  Tony bit his tongue and forced himself to nod. If Nicole went home early, that left Tess and Hillary to stay even later cleaning up from the party—boxing up the food to be delivered to the homeless shelter tomorrow, breaking down the tables, vacuuming, even washing the dishes, since the kitchen staff had all gone home after the main restaurant closed at 11. And he knew that was Tess’s call as manager, but damn… Tess’s eyes had looked so tired earlier today.

  “Later!” Nicole chirped as she collected her things and scooted out the fire door to the alley.

  “Hey, you need me to walk you to your car?” Tony yelled belatedly.

  “I’m good!” she called back.

  Tony sighed and wrapped a piece of cling wrap around the meat. Tomorrow it would be turned into Cara’s signature Arrosto de Vitello, a recipe he’d created and honed to perfection over the years, but Tony wouldn’t be there. Tomorrow, he had the whole day off for the first time in weeks. He couldn’t fucking wait. He planned to binge-watch the latest season of House of Cards, maybe take in some fall foliage…

  Ah, who was he kidding? He’d spend the day working up some new recipes in his home kitchen, because he was a glutton for punishment like that.

  He put the meat in the fridge, washed and sanitized his workstation, and went to volunteer for the cleanup crew.

  When he pushed open the swinging door to the function room, he saw that all of the dishes had been cleared, and Hillary was busy collecting table linens while Tess mechanically boxed up leftovers from the buffet table. Without a word, he began folding chairs and stacking them on the large dolly they used to transport them to the stockroom.

  Hillary gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, boss man!”

  Tony grunted. “No problem, Tink.”

  Tess looked over from the buffet table. “You shouldn’t be doing that!” she scolded sharply.

  Tony raised his eyebrows and glanced at her, not saying a word. She flushed and looked away.

  “I just meant it’s not your job and I know you have more important things to do,” she said in a small voice.

  “Uh huh,” Tony said, equally amused and annoyed by her burst of temper. “Well, it just so happens that all of my very important things are done for today. So unless the President calls and needs my advice, I can fold a damn chair in my own restaurant.”

  Tess flushed an even deeper red as Hillary snickered.

  “Does the President often call for your help?” Hillary teased. “Like, ‘I have a manicotti emergency, Tony, and you’re the only one who can help!’ ”

  Tony folded his arms over his chest and adopted his most serious expression. “Can’t answer that, Hillary. For your own safety. You know I’m not allowed to talk about matters of national security.”

  Hillary laughed out loud at his ridiculousness, but it was Tess’s barely-audible chuckle that sent a wave of euphoria through him. He was unreasonably proud of himself for breaking her out of her shitty mood, at least temporarily. If he were with her, he’d make a point to…

  Irrelevant, man.

  “Actually, I find folding chairs very Zen,” he told Hillary in the same mock-serious voice. “It’s got this rhythm that helps clear my mind. Fold, turn, stack, repeat…”

  “The path to enlightenment lies in folding chairs?” Tess asked skeptically.

  “Indeed, grasshopper,” Tony told her, smirking. “I have much to teach you.”

  Tess huffed out a laugh again. Win.

  “Oh, hey! Speaking of moving chairs!” Hillary interjected. “What’s the plan for this weekend, Tess? Do you want Matt and me over on Saturday or just Sunday? Oh, and ma
ybe Mr. Enlightenment over here can come flex his muscles for you, too,” she said, giving Tony a wink.

  Tony nodded.

  Tess swung around to face Hillary, wide-eyed. “What? Were you supposed to come over Sunday?”

  Hillary cocked her head to the side. “Yes, silly! To help you move to your new place! Remember?”

  Tess shook her head wildly.

  Hillary scrunched up her face. “We were in your office, right after I told you Matt knows your new landlord from Inked,” she explained, referring to the tattoo parlor where Matteo rented a chair. “I said he put in a good word for you, and you said that was great and now all you needed was someone to help you move, and I volunteered! I put it right on my calendar!” She pulled out her phone for confirmation.

  “I… oh, gosh. Oh, Hill, I’m so sorry!” Tess said, covering her eyes with her palm. “I completely forgot to tell you! It, um… things, uh… fell through. I’m not moving after all!”

  Tony turned to frown at her. If she wasn’t moving, what was all that crap in her backseat?

  Hillary must’ve been suspicious, too, because she stopped and turned to look at Tess fully.

  “But you said your mom was planning to let a friend crash in your old room.”

  Tess nodded, darting a nervous glance between Tony and Hillary. “Uh… that’s true. Yup.”

  Hillary planted her hands on her hips and looked at Tess expectantly. “So you are moving.”

  Tess flushed. “I mean, I’m moving out, yes, just not moving in to the place I was planning to rent.”

  Okay, yeah, this was officially strange. Alarm bells began to go off in Tony’s head.

  “Where are you moving to, then?” he asked.

  Tess flushed. “Not sure yet. A couple of people have offered to let me stay with them,” she said softly. “Until I can find a new place.”

  Tony appraised her and replayed her words in his mind. Tess was always so careful not to tell lies, but that didn’t mean she always told the whole truth. Just because someone had offered, that didn’t mean she’d accepted.

  “So, which friend are you staying with?” Tony asked, point-blank.

  Tess froze. “Well, I haven’t fully decided yet,” she said vaguely. “Eva, maybe.”

  “Eva, your friend from high school with the crazy boyfriend and the one-bedroom apartment? I didn’t know you guys hung out anymore,” Hillary said. “That sucks, Tess! If only we hadn’t rented Heidi’s old place out!”