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Billionaire with Benefits (Romancelandia #2) Page 100
Author: Anne Tenino

Robert stood also, blocking Dalton’s way, nearly chest bumping him. Totally aggressive, and now they were really going to attract attention, but no, there was a ruckus near the door so no one was even looking their way. At least not from what he could see in his peripheral vision.

“Excuse me.” He started to go around Robert, but the guy’s hand shot out and shackled his left wrist, gripping too tightly. The touch catalyzed Dalton’s anger, igniting it. Before, he’d been angry, but this new anger made him want to do things. Speaking very clearly, because he simply would not be misunderstood, he said, “Let go of me now, or you’re going to regret it.”

The sneer he got in return was exactly what he’d expected. “Yeah, who’s going to make me?”

“Me.”

“Hey!” Tierney’s shout startled Robert into turning his head, which sucked because Dalton wanted to knock the guy’s teeth into his groin, but his fist was already moving, rushing forward with all his anger giving it momentum and weight. In the final split second, Robert turned back and his nose caught the blow, and Dalton felt something snap. They both lost their balance, but he landed against Tierney’s chest while Robert tripped over his chair, leading with the back of his head.

Dalton had turned into Tierney’s arms before he heard Robert’s thick skull smack into the ground.

Robert had a broken nose. Tierney’d kind of enjoyed confirming it was broken—before the police arrived, he was the only one around with advanced first aid training. At first he’d claimed he couldn’t help because there was blood everywhere and he didn’t have latex gloves, but the waitstaff found some, so he’d had to do something. What he did was order a dishtowel and then shove it—hard—against Robert’s face to stop the bleeding.

After arriving just in time to watch the douche bag manhandle Dalton, it was the least Tierney could do.

The way Robert had carried on, you’d think he’d had his septum driven into his brain. He’d insisted on going to the hospital, which annoyed the hell out of the cops because it would mean an officer would have to go with him. They could choose not to place him under arrest, but that was clearly a nonstarter. He’d finally left in the ambulance a few minutes ago, with a squad car following behind.

Now Tierney and Dalton were waiting for Detective Johnson to finish up whatever needed his investigative touch and come talk to them. He’d let them into the backseat of his vehicle out in front of the restaurant. It was a little chilly, so Tierney had to keep his hands on Dalton. He didn’t want his boyfriend getting cold; the guy was probably still in shock. Keeping all his body heat as near Dalton as possible was totally rendering first aid.

“How are your knuckles?” Lifting up an edge of the towel wrapped around Dalton’s fingers, he checked the ice in the bag. “Too chilly?”

Dalton shook his head. “God, punching him felt so great,” he repeated for the fourth time or so.

“And you looked hot doing it.” Tierney tightened his arm around Dalton’s shoulders and kissed his temple.

“I’m glad you came for me.” Dalton had said that four or five times too.

“I never want to not come for you.” Tierney nuzzled his boyfriend’s hair with his whiskers. Until Dalton started giggle-snorting, and Tierney ran his words over in his head and laughter boiled out of him too. It was a great way to relieve the stress that the last few hours—like, twenty-four—had caused. Eventually he calmed down enough to add the important part. “I always want to be the first one you turn to when you need backup.”

Dalton didn’t ask what had changed between yesterday and now, just laid his head on Tierney’s shoulder and nestled under his chin. “We can talk about all that later. Just tell me this relationship is really a go.”

“This relationship is a go,” Tierney murmured before kissing his hair. “But yeah, we have to talk.”

“You’re sure it’s not going to endanger your recovery?” Dalton didn’t move—in fact, he was too still.

“I thought we were going to talk about this later.”

“Just answer the question. Please?”

“I don’t think it will.” He shifted around, so he could face Dalton, at least as much as being in the back of the car would let him, until he had Dalton’s head resting half on his chest and their thighs were mashed against each other. “Telling you it was over nearly made me drink. Even if it’s possible that I’d fall off the wagon if we split up, you’re worth taking a risk on.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

Tierney wrapped his other arm around Dalton, squeezing him into a tight hug. “One hundred percent certain.”

Dalton kissed his neck, which Tierney took as acceptance. And since they had that worked out, sorta . . . “As soon as this is over, we’re going back to my place where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Are you feeling protective, now?” Dalton teased.

“Fuck yes. Jesus, you watch some dude who you know for a fact is a violent homophobic piece of shit grab your boyfriend and tell me you wouldn’t be.” With Dalton wrapped in his arms, Tierney couldn’t miss how all of his muscles tensed up. “What?” Did he say something wrong?

“Are you officially my boyfriend?”

Shit. “Uh, unless you tell me otherwise, I am.”

Reaching up and running his fingers along Tierney’s jaw, Dalton relaxed again. “You are.”

“And you’re mine?”

“Of course.” He said it with such certainty that Tierney actually believed it; actually understood the word. It was about caring for someone so much he’d sit in the back of a detective’s car for hours with him, making sure he was warm enough and not stressed. Loving him so much that Tierney wouldn’t say a word about how the guy’s ice pack was freezing his genitals—well, not unless they were in danger of real damage. That was totally justifiable. Dalton would suffer too if Tierney’s dick got frostbitten and the tip had to be amputated.

But short of that, he wasn’t ever letting go of the dude again.

Maybe it was due to Dalton’s leftover adrenaline, but it didn’t seem like it took hours before Detective Johnson joined them in the back of his car. Well, Johnson was in front, looking through a sort of cage at them, frowning. “Why don’t we go into the restaurant and sit down?” he suggested. “We’ll all be more comfortable.”

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