by Dakota Dawn
Glancing at the table, she noticed that everyone was eating dessert. Chocolate-hazelnut ravioli. Picking hers up off her plate, she looked at Troy and thanked him for getting her and Trey some dessert. Biting into the warm, gooey goodness, she groaned in chocolate bliss. Earlier she and Nonna had put small spoons of chocolate-hazelnut in wonton wrappers, sealed the edges then fried them to a light golden color. They had been completely cooled then put in the refrigerator. While Branda was in the bedroom with Trey, Nonna must have heated and sugared the dessert. Damn, they tasted good.
Trent held up his glass of wine. “I want to toast the most exquisite pastries I’ve had in a long time. To Branda and Nonna. Salute!”
Everyone at the table raised their glasses in concordance. “Salute!” Taking a sip, Branda felt herself falling deeper in love with her new family.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days had passed since Nonna had given her the cooking lesson. Yesterday she had worked on an unexpected cookie and fruit arrangement and had joyfully collapsed on the couch after sending the excited customer on her way.
Today was Nonno, Emilio, and uncle Gabriel’s day to teach her something. Troy told her the whole family would teach her something. It was their way of bonding with her. She liked that. Stepping up to the Cortinos’ front door, she rang to doorbell. Shortly, Gabriel swung it open and ushered her in. “It’s good to see you today. I see you wore comfortable clothes just like we asked, good. Come back here with me. We have someone we want you to meet.”
Branda walked warily through the house. Although dressed in a sweat suit, she hoped they didn’t want to do aerobics with her. She truly hated aerobics. Walking, fine. Aerobics, no.
Gabriel led her to the spacious family room in the back of the house. Furniture was pushed back, and a large area of the wood floor was covered with a thick mat. Uh oh, this couldn’t be good for the home team. Seeing a lean man dressed in sweats talking to Nonno and Emilio, she wanted to groan in misery.
Getting Nonno’s attention, Gabriel injected, “Sorry to interrupt, but Branda has arrived.”
Nonno, Emilio, and the man walked over to them.
Nonno made the introductions. “Ken, this is Branda. Soon she will be marrying my grandson. Branda, this is Ken, a friend of the family. He will be teaching you self-defense today.”
A snort of laughter burst from her before she could stop it. Her shock was immense. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Emilio shook his dark head, his green eyes way too serious. “No.”
Brow furrowed, Branda responded, “I’m not too keen on fighting. I’d rather throw cookies at them and run while they eat them.”
Ken laughed at that. “I’m sure that would work with some attackers, but not all of them. So I’m here to teach you how to handle the ones that don’t care for, sugar.”
Emilio gently guided her into the next room for a little privacy. “Branda, I can tell this is not something you want to do, but you must do it.”
Well, now she knew where the twins got their bossiness from. What a ginormous genetic flaw to have. Her face must have shown her thoughts.
With a mirthful voice, he went on, “You are so easy to read. Your irritation with me is plain to see. It is a good thing to let your feelings be known. Unfortunately, today I can’t give in to you.” Taking her left arm, he slid her sleeve up, exposing her scarred forearm. His thumb tenderly swept back and forth over the raised, pink flesh. Serious, penetrating green eyes bore into hers. “I know what happened to you. That can never happen again. From today on, I want you to be able to take care of yourself. The twins can’t be with you all the time. What happens when you have children? You have to be able to defend yourself and the babies. I need you to do this.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded, not sure how this was going to work out, but determined to at least try. His eyes showed her how much he needed her to do this. There was no way she could have refused him. He had to love her a lot to bring in someone to teach her to take care of herself and her future children. His future grandchildren. Who could say no to that? Branda nodded her agreement, and they went back into the other room.
Ken got straight to business. “Good, you two are back. Let’s get started. You missed meeting Gina a minute ago. Gina is my partner. She will be helping with your training. Gina, this is Branda.”
Relief almost dropped Branda to her knees. A female. The heavens must be smiling on her today after all. All the tall men in the room looming over her was making her a bit nervous. By normal standards, she wasn’t short, but by their standard height, she was a shorty. At least Gina was equal to her height.
Keeping control of the training, Ken informed her, “The first thing we are going to do are a few warm-ups. After that we’ll show you how to position your hand for a blow. Then we will practice some moves. Emilio and I will demonstrate, then you and Gina will do the move. Once you have the move down, you’ll do the move on me. If you three will step onto the mat, we will begin.”
Two hours later, Branda was sweaty and her head was swimming with all the information they had given her. They had taught her to curl her fist starting with her pinkie and lastly placing her thumb tightly against her fingers. She had been told never to tuck her thumb into her fist because it could get broken on impact. That sounded painful.
Ken taught her to never hesitate. The instant a person showed any sign of attack she was to suddenly strike. Striking first and fast could end it right there. A sudden quick blow with a fist to the stomach or chin could very well give her a chance to get away. They had gone through the motions several times, always tightening their stomach muscles before taking a hit. When Branda had the move down, Ken put on a padded suit and had her do the same thing. Once in the padded suits, he had her and Gina do the blow to the stomach move with just a little force to each other. Then he had her do it to him with more force. She had been shocked to find out how much a small amount of force hurt and that she could hurt an attacker enough to double him or her over in pain.
While taking a break, Ken laughed. “A blow to the stomach hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, like hell,” Branda replied truthfully and with some mirth.
“A well-placed fist, especially a fast, unexpected one, will double an attacker over almost every time. That same move you learned for the stomach can be aimed at the breastbone or the groin. Trust me, a fast fist to the groin will take a male attacker down, giving you time to run like the hounds of hell are chasing you.” Ken was so into his job he continued the training by talking about self-defense through each break. Branda admired that about him. He wanted to teach her as much as he could in their short time together. She decided she liked them both. Gina made it fun as well as informative, too.
The last move they taught her was how to kick an attacker in the groin from the ground. If she were ever pushed down again, she knew what to do. If she went down, face to the ground, she was to turn over quickly, spot her attacker, wait for him to get within kicking range then kick his groin with her heel as hard as she could. If she had known that before she had been attacked, she wouldn’t have a scarred-up forearm or the nightmares that still haunted her. Come to think of it, though, she hadn’t had the nightmares at all while she was safely tucked into the twins’ arms at night. One more thing to be thankful for.
Time had flown by.
Thanking everyone, Branda departed when Ken and Gina left.
Once inside the De Pescina home, Branda dropped the self-defense folder Ken had given her on the coffee table to read later. He’d told her she needed to look it over every now and then just to freshen her memory on what to do in case of an attack.
Going to the bathroom, she lit the cinnamon candle the twins had given her, turned on the water, and took a good long, soothing bath.
* * * *
Stretching her arms up overhead, Branda was happy to find that her muscles were no longer as sore as they had been. Today marked three days since she had take
n the self-defense class. The twins were at work, and she didn’t have any commitments today. She planned on being lazy all day, and so far, she’d done just that.
Troy and Trey were going to take her to dinner tonight. Thank goodness, because otherwise she would have had to cook, and she didn’t feel like doing anything today.
Ding, ding, ding.
Who could that be? Going to the door, she peeked through the peephole. Trent, Cason, and Carlo were standing on the other side, all smiles.
Opening the door, she asked, “What do you guys need? Make it quick. I plan to do nothing at all today except laze around.”
Trent smiled devilishly. That couldn’t be good.
“Good, come by and be lazy with us,” Trent said with a mischievous gleam in his green eyes.
Looking up at them, she snorted. “Not on your life. I don’t plan on doing a thing for the rest of the day. See you later.”
Cason’s eyes turned pleading. “If you don’t come, you will break tradition. Think about it. Everyone in the family has taught you something except us. We have to teach you something, too. Please come over. All of the parents have gone out of town and won’t be back until tomorrow. That gives us the whole day to save tradition.”
Lips twisting, Branda sighed. “What do you three have in mind?”
Jumping at the opportunity Cason answered. “Trent is going to show you how to throw a knife, Carlo will show you how to make Troy’s favorite drink, and I’ll show you how to make Trey’s favorite drink. Have a heart, bella. Let us teach you these small things.”
Grinning, Branda gave in. “You can stop with the puppy eyes. I’ll get my keys and come over for tradition’s sake. But don’t expect me to get dressed. I’m coming over in these sweats and T-shirt.”
“No worries. You are dressed fine for what we are going to be doing,” Carlo quickly responded as if afraid she would change her mind.
Striding through the Cortino house, Trent led her to the backyard. Showing their confidence in their ability to convince her to come over, she saw that they had put up a target and had the outdoor bar ready to make drinks. Since she was standing in the backyard, their confidence was well founded.
Cason and Carlo took seats so they could watch the show.
Just what she needed, a laughing audience. Thinking of her new wonderful family, she knew she’d do anything for them, including this, for tradition’s sake.
Picking up one of the two knifes, Trent started explaining. “This is a twelve-inch throwing knife. It can be thrown from either end. The smooth design of it is what makes it capable of doing that.” Putting it down, he picked up the other one. “This one is seven inches and can only be thrown by the handle. This one is shaped to fit your hand so it feels good when you are holding it. They both have very sharp tips so be careful.” Taking it by the blade, he handed it to her handle first.
Taking the knife, she was a little surprised at its weight considering the length of it.
Handing the longer knife to her, he took the shorter one from her. The longer one was twice as heavy. “They are heavier than I thought they would be,” Branda commented.
“Yeah, they have to be or they wouldn’t be able to penetrate long-distance targets. I’m going to throw each one. Watch the way I hold the knife and the way I shift my weight. My right leg is back and my toes are pointing at the target. My left leg is at a good balanced distance, a little over a foot away from my right. For you it will more likely be about a foot in front. Both knees are slightly bent. This will help me shift my weight from one foot to the other with ease. I’m going to let go of the knife when it points exactly at the target then I’m going to quickly release it and snap my fingers back together. I’ll go through the motion a few times then I’ll throw it.”
Watching him closely, she took in every move he made. It didn’t look too hard. He moved slowly through the motions first, then Bam! With the grace of a powerful tiger, he shifted his weight, pulled his arm back then in a blur flung the knife at the target. Her brows shot up in amazement. He’d hit bull’s eye in one of the four circles of the target. As she stared at him, he turned and picked up the other knife and did the same thing, but in the bull’s-eye of one of the other circles. She couldn’t believe it. He was deadly with a knife. Only a fool would start any shit with him.
Not seeming to notice her awe, he ambled over to the target, retrieved the knives and handed the shorter one to her. “Your turn. Where you are standing is eight feet from the target. If you hit the target dead on, we’ll know this is your half-turn distance. If the blade goes in at an angle you’ll have to move closer or farther from the target.”
On her first throw, the knife bounced off the target and hit the ground. Trent was extremely patient and worked with her until they had her distance down and had her sticking the knife in the target.
Envisioning her attacker, she smiled as her mind made up what she wished would have happened.
Walking to her apartment, she wasn’t afraid of the dark. Hearing a strange sound, her new ninja skills took over, and she turned to her attacker before he even laid a hand on her. Her sixth sense let her know he was evil. She punched him in the groin and watched him go down. Whipping out her phone, she called the cops. When he got up and tried to escape, she threw her knife and buried it in his thigh just as help arrived.
Grinning at her own fanciful thoughts, she tried harder to hit the target.
An hour later Trent had her hitting the target on a regular basis. Not dead center like him, but she was still proud of herself for hitting the outer ring most of the time. A few times she’d actually hit the bull’s-eye. At those times she had beamed brightly and high-fived Trent, Cason, and Carlo.
Cason started whining that it was his turn to teach her. Giving in, Trent called it quits for the day. Gazing down at her, he complimented her. “You did a great job today. A couple of those throws were better than Cason’s throws.”
Looking into his green eyes, she noticed that the more she got to know him the more she liked him and the less she even noticed the scar on his left cheek. To her, he was just as handsome as the twins. In truth, he looked like he could be their triplet. He had a strong yet gentle touch. Under his guidance, she had learned enough to throw a knife at an attacker and most likely hit her human target. “Thanks for the lesson. I learned a great deal even with all the uncontrolled laughing.” At her last statement, she cut her eyes at Cason and Carlo. Shifting her gaze back to Trent, she added, “Looks like the family tradition has been met. You are free of your obligation toward me.”
A sensual smile curled his lips up. “Tradition has been fulfilled this is true, but my obligation to you and your safety will carry on forever. You are family.”
Warmth spread throughout her body. He was so sweet. The whole family was unbelievably kind. Too bad more families weren’t like them because the world would be a better place if they were.
Before she could even try to find an appropriate response, Cason called out, “Time’s up, Trent. Branda, come over here. Carlo is going to teach you to make Trey’s favorite drink.”
One brow raised in question. “I thought you told me earlier that Carlo was going to teach me Troy’s favorite drink.”
Cason shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. They look just alike. I call them whichever name rolls off my tongue first. They answer to either name. Try it some time, you’ll see. Come on over and Carlo will start the lesson.”
Trent took Carlo’s seat and watched the show.
Carlo turned on some soft rock music and set out four glasses. “Today you will learn to make a tropical mojito. You don’t know how to make these already, do you?”
“No, but it sounds good.”
“It is. Tropical mojitos are one of my favorites.”
“I thought they were Troy’s favorite,” Trent said, with a wicked gleam in his green eyes.
Carlo bit his lip for a second. “Tropical mojitos just happen to be a favorite that we both share. Stop
harassing me. Did I talk during your training session?”
“As a matter of fact, your laughter could have been considered harassing. It’s a wonder Branda learned anything at all,” Trent shot back.
Turning to Branda, Carlo said, “Just ignore him. He is jealous of our drink-making abilities.” Handing her a bowl of mint leaves, he added, “First, divide these mint leaves among the four glasses then mash them with the back of this wooden spoon.” Handing her the spoon he watched as she mashed the mint then leaned over a glass and sniffed the minty aroma.
“The mint smells wonderful. What do I do next?” Branda asked, licking her lips.
Carlo rattled off the two ingredients needed. “Pour six cups of tropical blend juice and one and one quarter-cup of rum into the pitcher then stir. While you do that, I’ll put ice in the glasses.”
In a flash, they were pouring the drinks and sitting around the round glass-top table talking and soaking up the sun.
Branda took a sip. “These are good. I wonder what it would taste like with a little cinnamon.”
“Let’s find out. What kind of cinnamon do you want, powdered or sticks?” Carlo asked as he stood, getting ready to go into the house to get the requested cinnamon.
“Sticks, please,” she answered, before taking another drink. Damn, they were good. She was glad they’d come over.
“I didn’t know they made tropical blend juice. Did both of you guys know that?” Branda asked Trent and Cason.
Trent said no at the same time Cason said yes.
At least Trent hadn’t known either. That made her feel better.
“Cason and Carlo would know because they are always making drinks. Right, Cason?” Trent offered in explanation.
“Sure enough,” Cason said as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music. “We can make almost any drink from memory alone. We are thinking about opening our own bar one of these days.”
