Disarmed by Love

by Gail Chianese

  He nodded and looked away, but not before Fiona saw the appreciation in his eyes.

  Chapter 4

  Fiona greeted Saturday morning sitting on her small patio, sipping tea as streaks of red, orange, and white filled the sky. It was her favorite time, when the world still slept and the promises of the day dawned over the horizon.

  Dylan was still at his dad and stepmother’s so she took her time, choosing workout clothes that matched her mood and could be worn to the store to save time after class. She ran through this morning’s routine in her head as she headed out the door. It was a short walk from the apartment to the studio, but given that she had errands to run—and when didn’t she?—she drove. Even though she arrived early, there were still students waiting. But no Dante.

  She refused to let out a sigh of disappointment. There was still time. Her long-time students greeted her with hugs and chatted about their week. She’d been teaching this class three times a week for the past couple of years. This morning she had all regulars who jumped in and helped set the room up without being asked. By seven sharp the room was filled and ready to go. Still no sign of Dante.

  This time the sigh slipped out.

  She stood in front of the room, in a calm, quiet voice she instructed the class to begin with warm-ups. Shoulder shrugs to release the tension clamping down.

  For his sake, she’d hoped to see him there. Okay, she admitted, she’d been looking forward to seeing him, too. There was no explaining the why other than he was a good-looking guy and who wouldn’t want to stare at Dante—good God, those muscles of his were a work of art—as a way to start their day. Or end it or anytime in between. She really didn’t need the complications of a relationship in her life. Dylan was a handful lately and that’s where her extra energy and focus—what little there was—needed to be directed.

  The students moved effortlessly through the moves, all seasoned yogis, so Fiona dropped to her hands and knees to join in. She had just arched her back and dropped her head when the air changed. A crackle of electricity went down her back and she looked up into a pair of brown eyes so dark they could be black.

  Dante.

  The tilt of his lips and the slow-roving gaze had heat filling her cheeks. She didn’t know why as she wasn’t wearing anything really tight except her pants and well, pretty much everyone in the room had on the same thing. But Dante’s eyes weren’t on them.

  “Okay, drop your stomachs and hold,” she told the class while indicating with her head for Dante to follow her. She took him to the last open mat in the back of the room. “We’re doing the Cat Stretch right now, which we did in PT last week.”

  “Got it—and sorry about arriving late.” His smile about knocked her out.

  “No worries. You’ve only missed a few moves.”

  “Maybe I’m just saving them for later…” his voice dropped to a husky whisper as he moved in closer, “when we’re alone again.”

  Fiona shook her head and smiled, giving him a little push toward the mat. Dante fell into count with the rest of the class. She abandoned the idea of joining in during the workout and walked slowly around the room, never taking her eyes off of him.

  The man had incredible form; she’d give him that.

  She ran the group through the twelve-step Sun Salutation next, explaining each step for Dante’s benefit. As he leaned back with his arms stretched over his head, the blue navy t-shirt he wore raised, exposing ripped abs. Man, a girl could get lost tracing those muscles.

  Next up was Downward Dog. Fiona stayed put at the front of the class, resisting the urge to be a total cliché and stand behind him where she could admire the taut muscles of his derrière.

  “Okay, everyone pair up. Let’s do some passive stretches starting with Head to Chest.”

  With Dante present the class was at odd numbers. Darn, looked like she’d have to help him out. The sacrifices she made.

  “Sit on your knees and when I put my hands on your neck I want you to slowly drop your chin to your chest.” She guided his head forward and with the other hand she massaged powerful neck muscles. Whatever had happened to him over there, he’d stayed in shape and if this wasn’t “in-shape” for him, she didn’t even want to think what was, because dang. The man was built. Briefly she imagined the feel of his hands running down her body and shivered.

  If she didn’t rein her thoughts in, at this rate, she’d jump him the minute they were alone. While she had no doubt she’d enjoy every minute in his arms, a small part of her brain told her that wasn’t a great idea. Dante was a client. She had a young, impressionable son and most importantly she didn’t know him or his issues well enough.

  The class moved into the next pose and Dante slid flat onto his back with his head between her legs. His dark brown eyes gazed up at her; a ghost of a smile dared her to remain professional. His lashes were lush and long. Lucky dog. She slid her hands along his cheeks, noting he hadn’t shaved that morning.

  Gently she stretched his neck. Her body leaned forward. They were two magnets pulled toward each other. Slowly she caressed his cheeks and ran her fingers up his face and through his dark, silky, short hair.

  Oh wow, give me strength. This man is going to be my challenge.

  He clasped her wrist before she could move. His gaze held her in place. A question flitted across his face, as his thumb stroked her pulse point. She couldn’t breathe. The rest of the room faded away. Neither moved, both locked into a spell as old as time.

  A throat cleared somewhere in the distance and Dante momentarily glanced away and then smiled as heat raced up her neck and filled her cheeks. He winked, she laughed, and they were back to normal.

  “Okay, class, arm pulls, but do try to remember this isn’t a torture session.” She smiled down at Dante as she extended his arms above his head. “I save those for the navy guys.”

  The class chuckled and moved into position. The rest of the session went smoothly and at the end, each member stopped to thank her and give her a hug before leaving her alone with Dante.

  She took the proffered floor mat and held it in front of her like a flimsy shield.

  “Hi, so I probably owe you an apology for earlier. I stepped over a line—”

  “Did you hear me complain?” he asked.

  “Well, no, but still you’re not the first male partner I’ve had and I should have kept my professionalism.”

  “Are we still talking yoga here, or something else?” His eyes sparkled and the smirk on his face had her shaking her head.

  “navy guys,” she sighed and tossed the mat with the others.

  He had her off her game, had since the day he’d walked into her gym and she’d learned they’d be working together. She held up her hand before the conversation could spiral any further down the wrong path. “How are you feeling right now?”

  He rolled his shoulders, tilted his head and shrugged. “Relaxed. Maybe there is something to this woo-woo stuff.”

  “Tomorrow, if you can remember what we did today, repeat it before heading to your dinner. And don’t forget your breathing.”

  “Aye-aye oh great Mistress of the Double P.”

  “I’m going to regret this, but what does that even mean?”

  “Mistress of Pain and Pleasure,” he said with a smile as he backed out the front door.

  * * * *

  The front door opened on his parents’ small Cape Cod house and every fiber in Dante froze. His heart sped up and sweat broke out across his brow. He wasn’t ready to face them, or to see the sympathy and disappointment in their eyes. If Mateo were home, at least then he could direct his mom’s attention to the upcoming wedding. Or if George and Alex were here, his mom would be busy with her grandkids.

  Shit! He should have called Tawny and told her he was sick.

  The door held suspended open while whoever was exiting took their time. Whe
n he spotted the red hair he breathed a sigh of relief. He stayed at the edge of the driveway until Cherry walked up to him.

  “What’cha doing?” She crossed her arms in front of him and raised one brow. “You know if you don’t go in, Tawny will rat you out. And if she doesn’t, I will.”

  Yep, his sisters were angels, definitely fallen ones.

  He looked to the house and back. His pulse skyrocketed.

  Cherry laid a hand on his arm. “Want to go for a walk?”

  Yes, he wanted to walk back to his car and drive away, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d still have to face his family.

  “Thanks, kiddo, but I’ll be fine. It feels weird.”

  “Coming home when we’re afraid we’ve disappointed them?”

  He met her eyes, filled with kindness, compassion, and understanding. Cherry had always been the “softer” sister. The one to give in first, to be nice and do things for him and his brothers, to give hugs faster and more often. She’d also been as fierce as Tawny when someone crossed them or said anything derogatory. Given her history and her future occupation as a counselor, he wasn’t really surprised that she saw past the exterior.

  “How did you do it?” Cherry had gone on Finding Mr. Right, a reality dating show hoping to find the man of her dreams. Instead, she’d found herself at the center of a scandal, but she’d moved past that and found her love right in her own backyard.

  “It wasn’t easy at first, but then I remembered who was on the other side of the door. They love you, Dante. We all do. No matter what happened when you were deployed, that’s not going to change. Don’t expect them to go easy on you when they find out you’ve been home for a couple of months though.”

  He jerked his head back. “How did you know?”

  “Jason saw you or someone he thought was you. He didn’t think about it until I mentioned seeing you the other day.” She gave him a quick hug and stepped toward her car. “Go in, Dante. You’ll make your mother cry tears of happiness to see you.”

  “Wait, aren’t you going back in?”

  “Nope, you’re on your own big guy. Gavin woke up sick, so we had to cancel. I just ran over to drop off a recipe from Gram. She still refuses to use technology.”

  And with that he was alone again, staring at his past and future.

  Nothing had changed. A simple house with white siding and aqua shutters and doors, the lawn lush and meticulous, and about a gazillion plants to tend. Nothing was the same either. The basketball hoop had been taken down, the chalk drawings had washed away, and three out of four bedrooms stood empty. Yet it was home. Always home.

  He patted the right pocket of his jeans. Yep, he’d remembered to grab his anxiety meds, although he hated taking them. Hated being dependent on anything or one other than him. He did a couple of runs through the breathing thingy Fiona taught him and he was ready. More or less.

  The screen door squeaked as he pulled it open.

  “Cherry, you forgot…” His mom’s hands flew to her face as she let out a squeal and tears sprung to her eyes. “M’ijo.”

  He wrapped his mom in his arms as tears and laughter erupted. Neither said anything for the longest time, he simply stood in her loving embrace letting all the worry, stress, and other emotions wash over him. This was his haven, his safe place and once again he was a small boy, with his fiercest protector shielding him from the world.

  She stepped back to cradle his face in her hands.

  “I’ve missed you. Let me look at you.” She tsked. “You’ve lost weight, m’ijo.” Her soft voice filled with mother concern pierced his guilty conscious.

  “navy chow, but I’m home now.”

  She’d changed, too. Grayer at her temples, a few more lines around her eyes, and… Had she shrunk? Maybe. Yet one thing remained the same. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen or known.

  “Well, well, well. Look who made his way home.” Tawny leaned against the doorway leading to the kitchen. “About time you got here.”

  “You, shush and be nice to your brother. Get him something to drink while we surprise your father.”

  “Yeah, be nice to me,” Dante teased, ignoring Tawny as she stuck her tongue out at him. A sense of rightness washed over him. Some things never changed.

  His mom pulled him through the room and out the kitchen door, alternating between laughing and crying. She threw open the door and yelled, “Look who’s home!”

  His dad, who’d been bouncing Catalina on his knee looked up, and smiled. The man didn’t break out in tears like his wife, but Dante could still see a gleam in his eyes. His brother-in-law, Dave, stood and swooped up his daughter to walk over and give him a one-arm hug.

  “Good to have you home, man.”

  “Hey there, cutie pie.” Dante tickled his niece who responded by bopping him in the nose. Her dad laughed. “Quite the little warrior you’ve got there.”

  “Just like her mom.”

  Dave stepped aside for his dad. The hug crushed his ribs. The slap on the back knocked the wind out of him.

  “Son.” So many emotions conveyed in one word. Jorge Torres wasn’t a talker, but he didn’t have to be when his face and eyes showed everything he felt. “How long are you home for this time?”

  “A while. I’m stationed in Newport now.”

  Shrieks of happiness pierced his ear. His mom jumped up and down as she hugged him again. “We need to celebrate. I wish your brothers were here, but next weekend, I’ll have all my babies home again.” She patted his cheek. “It’s been too long, m’ijo.”

  His mom left the men to talk and retreated to the kitchen, where no doubt she had his sister slaving away. It was her way. Not that Tawny wouldn’t be grumbling under her breath, but his parents were old school. The women waited on the men. Thankfully for the future of their family line, none of the Torres children felt the same way.

  While his mom and sister brought out the food, Dante commented on his dad’s roses. They were his hobby and a surefire way to keep his dad from asking question Dante wasn’t ready to answer. Dave had smiled, and took his little warrior off to help with dinner. Anywhere else it would have been called lunch, but on Sundays his mom made one big meal in the afternoon so she’d be clear to hit mass at 6:00 p.m.

  “That one,” his father nodded. “He makes your sister happy and drives your mama crazy. He won’t let her wait on him and he treats your sister like a princess.”

  Dante laughed. “I can see how that would make Tawny very happy.”

  “The little one, she’s going to be running circles around the two of them in no time. She needs a sibling. No child should grow up alone.”

  Uh-oh. He knew what came next.

  “What kind of rose is this?” Dante ran his fingers across the silky petals of the palest yellow flower he’d ever seen.

  “Rosa pimpinellifolia,” his father replied without looking down. “Sofia loves to play with Catalina. She takes her job as older cousin very seriously, as she should.”

  Dad stopped to inspect a deep orange flower. “Louis de Funès. Your mother’s favorite. So much work, but worth it. These roses, cooking, and the grandbabies make your mama smile. I like when she smiles.”

  “I know what you’re getting at, Dad.” This was a conversation they’d had multiple times. As soon as his older brother had married, his parents had started hinting that it was his turn to find “the one” and settle down. Cripes, he’d only been a kid when George and Alex had tied the knot. “So before you ask, no. There is no one special in my life right now.”

  “Food is ready,” Tawny called out as she put a casserole dish on the covered picnic table.

  Dante breathed a sigh of relief, saved by the dinner bell.

  Everyone took their respective places. It was good to be home and be with family again. He didn’t know how to describe it, but just kne
w it felt right. Down at the end of the table, his niece grinned at him. An evil kind of grin that said she had him in her sights. She was definitely her mother’s daughter. He turned back to ask his dad about work when something warm and wet hit his cheek.

  Refried beans.

  Tawny bit down on her lip and looked away.

  “Sorry, bro,” Dave murmured to him before turning to the little curtain climber. “Catalina, we don’t throw food.”

  His niece looked down at her plate, but not before Dante saw the sparkle in her eyes. He’d have to keep an eye on that one.

  “Georgie will be so happy to hear you’re home.” His mom passed him the tamales, still steaming from the pan. “Eat, m’ijo. You’re too skinny. No woman wants a man who weighs less than she does.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tawny’s smirk. She loved that someone else was the center of their mother’s fussing. But he knew this conversation and needed to redirect it ASAP.

  “How’s George’s restaurant doing?”

  Proud smiles bloomed on both of his parents. For the next twenty minutes they went on about George, his wife, and of course, the children. From there they all filled him in on his baby brother Mateo’s life. They talked about Dave’s business with his best friend, Jason, and how that was going. Dante didn’t miss his mom’s scowl. She’d had high hopes for Tawny marrying someone who could convince her to stay home and raise a handful of kids. His sister might do it for Dave, but his brother-in-law would never ask her to give up her career.

  Their parents wanted the best for them: financial comfort, good health, love, and lots of children. It was only natural. The two of them had immigrated to America when they were barely more than kids themselves and worked hard to give their family a decent life. None of the siblings resented their parents for their wishes, just the methods, as they were relentless in their pursuit of their children’s futures.

  The conversation flowed, covering everything from family to work to, of course, the Red Sox. Laughter filled the air when Dave retold the story of Tawny’s first in-person baseball game. His sister wasn’t the type to don jerseys, ball caps and get dirty. Or she hadn’t been before Dave walked into her life. The two of them were total opposites, but he balanced his sister out and made her smile.