Disarmed by Love

by Gail Chianese

  He sucked in a breath and choked on the air going down. He had expected her to continue arguing about paying him, not semi-proposition him.

  “Deal. And as for price, how about a trade? One yoga class for every swim lesson? We both win then.”

  Her smile widened. “So, it helped last weekend? Dealing with your family? I was a little worried since you cancelled our sessions this week.”

  Not completely, but he wasn’t going to tell her that and crush her. Besides, he was sure in time, with her help, he’d learn to be in better control of his reactions. Until then… yoga and babes in tight pants doing… interesting poses. What wasn’t to love?

  “It did and sorry about that. Admittedly, I slept better last Saturday night after going to your class, which doesn’t mean I’m sold on the whole woo-woo stuff. However, I’m willing to give it another try.”

  “Are you still practicing your breathing?”

  He nodded.

  “Good.” All playfulness had been pushed aside. His Mistress of Pain and Pleasure was back. “Keep it up and remember, just like the meditation, yoga isn’t an insta-cure. Just like anything else, the more you practice, the better you’ll become and the more positive effects you’ll notice.”

  “Got it, boss. When do you want to start swim lessons and where?”

  “Are you free Saturday?”

  “There you go again, trying to entrap me.” He laughed in response to her deadpan stare. “Okay, I’ll stop. Just remember, I may be free, but I’m not cheap and yes, tomorrow is good for me.”

  “Great. I’ll see you at yoga and then you can follow me back to my place.”

  He jumped down from the bleachers, turned around and took her hand. She looked down, then glanced up to meet his eyes. She squinted and turned her head a hair so it looked like she was giving him the side-eye. Without breaking eye contact, Dante slowly leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

  “It’s a date.”

  Chapter 6

  “Are you okay?” Fiona stopped him at the door of the yoga studio. “Your eyes are bloodshot and you kind of look like crud.”

  “Rough night.” He shrugged it and her concern off. He didn’t want to rehash the sleepless night.

  Fiona took the hint and stepped back, letting him pass. He said hello to a few people from the previous weekend, grabbed his mat and found a spot in the back where he could see everyone. A couple of the women smiled and looked appreciatively in his direction. He returned the greeting, but ignored the invitation in their eyes. Last night left him in no mood to do more than enjoy the scenery around him.

  Night terrors. They were—thankfully—rare for him, yet all too vivid and real to lend to a good night’s sleep. Last night’s hit him early, coming on hard and fast. One minute he’d been lying on the couch watching an old Jackie Chan movie and then he was back in the desert. The wind whipped sand and snow in his face.

  He was covered from head to toe, but a chill ran through him.

  He’d barely noticed.

  All his focus was on the ground in front of him. They’d had a report of IEDs—improvised explosive devices—found buried under a set of stairs carved into the mountainside. The MIMID—mini metal detector—in his hands sent out a long screech.

  Dante swept the area with the detector, finding two more devices within a few feet of the first one. Night was falling quickly, upping the stakes, and moving the odds against them. His partner, Turner, was thirty feet below him, on the opposite side of the steps, when his MIMID went off. Damn, they were making sure they got anyone who either went up or came down the mountain.

  The rocky, multileveled terrain gave way with each step, giving pedestrians no option but to use the stairs. Rotten bastards didn’t care who they blew up.

  Dante and Turner carefully made their way back down the mountain to gather supplies. They’d have to set off the IEDs manually since they couldn’t get the Talon or SUGV robots where they needed them. In one year, insurgents had planted around fifteen thousand IEDs, with the death toll hitting tens of thousands. It was his job to see that no one else died.

  Turner and he discussed the best way to clear the mountain. Together they built a slider charge for each side, which would destroy multiple IEDS at once. Once they were armed they climbed back up the steep side. Each of them had marked their previous finds with chemlights. The temperature had dropped a good twenty degrees since they’d started and the air burned as it made its way in through his nasal passages.

  Dante was careful to set the charger down, making sure he missed any pressure plates covered by the earth. His breath came in short and stilted. One wrong move and he’d not only take out the mountainside, but him, and his partner. Despite the cold, sweat beaded across his brow.

  “All clear,” Turner called out and headed down the hill.

  Dante judged the distance between the three IEDs he’d marked, picked up the charger and leaned toward an outcrop. Miscalculating could cost someone their life. His balanced teetered momentarily and then stabilized. With the slider in place, he stood and made his way down to the safety zone.

  He heard it, the soft ping, ping of rocks, over the hum of the trucks, the guys talking and the wicked desert wind. He didn’t dare move a muscle; air locked in his lungs, he waited. Then it happened again, the distinctive sound of dirt sliding followed by rocks tumbling. He ran. Then… the next thing he saw was Turner leaned over him shining a light in his face.

  He may not have wanted to rehash the dream, but just trying to avoid it had brought it all flooding back at once. Opening his eyes, he expected every pair of eyes to be locked on him since he’d zoned out. Surprisingly, no one did and instead of standing there in the middle of the yoga class looking like an idiot, he was bent over facing Downward Dog like the rest.

  Without thinking, he’d not only followed Fiona’s instructions, and he also wasn’t in a full-blown panic attack.

  “Bring your legs together. Now I want you to lean forward and lift your left leg up. As you do so, hold your right arm out in front of you and hold. Don’t worry if you have to touch down with your foot. Just get your balance back and try again,” Fiona purred, her tone soft and soothing.

  Dante followed her instructions. A couple of seconds later he found himself swaying as he fought to remain still. Everyone around him looked like a freaking statue and he looked like a drunk at last call.

  “Doing okay there, Studly?” Her smiled teased. She was enjoying his struggle way too much.

  He steeled his muscles. “Couldn’t be better, Mistress.”

  Snorts and chuckles broke out around the room.

  “Okay, switch legs and hold.” She stood in front, facing him so they were eye-to-eye. He took it as a personal challenge and willed himself to stand as still as the rest of the class. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  His legs burned. He refused to give in. He’d survived a year of pushing his body, mentally and physically, to the point of breaking. Thanks to the navy he learned not to quit.

  Maybe they should have included yoga, because it was kicking his ass like nothing else.

  “And lower your leg. Great job, everyone.” Fiona moved back to the front of the room. “Now that you’re warmed up…”

  The class groaned.

  “Okay, fine. It’s Saturday. You’re all tired from the workweek, so I’ll pick an easy one. How about the Wheel?” She clapped her hands softly. “Come on, you guys can do it. Everyone on your backs, with your feet pressed into the mat by your hips. If you can’t bring them up that far, it’s okay you can modify and do the Bridge.”

  She explained the rest of the steps as she walked the class through the pose. Every muscle in Dante’s body moaned in anticipated pain. He might have to concede defeat this time, but damned if he would without giving it his all.

  He planted his feet, and
pressed his palms down next to his ears and lifted.

  “Don’t forget to breathe,” Fiona said. “If you can, stay for ten slow breaths and then lower slowly.

  Holy motherf…

  He forced the air he’d been holding out. He breathed in, his feet slid out from under him and he landed with a thud.

  “Dante, are you okay?” Fiona was standing over him in a flash.

  “Uncle?” His elbow had slammed into the floor, and he tested out his arm to make sure he could move it. It was fine, but he rubbed it just the same.

  Fiona’s eyes filled with concern. His gaze dropped to her luscious bottom lip, mere inches from him.

  “Did you get a boo-boo?”

  “If I did, would you kiss it and make it better?”

  Everyone in the class was notably quiet. He was about to apologize when she smiled, kissed her fingers and pressed them against his elbow.

  “All better?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. Instead she led them into the next pose. “Remember, it’s okay to push yourself. But please, don’t break yourself.”

  The class laughed. He managed to keep up through the rest of the workout.

  “Let’s lie flat on our backs. If you need a pillow, we have some over in the corner in the basket. I want you to all close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Remember to breathe in and out through your nose, nice and slow.”

  Her voice lowered, sounding like a melody. She counted off their breathing, instructing when to inhale, when to exhale. Dante let the music flow over him like a lover’s caress. Everything slipped away but Fiona’s voice. The rotten night, the long workweek, the worry of his injuries, they were all gone.

  “Dante.” A warm hand stroked his arm. “Dante, time to wake up.”

  He opened his eyes. Fiona sat on the floor next to him, her hand on his arm, and a smile on her face. The room was empty except for the two of them.

  “Where did everyone go?”

  “They left about thirty minutes ago when class got over. You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you. If my babysitter didn’t have an appointment this morning, I would have let you sleep longer.”

  He’d freaking fallen asleep? In a room full of strangers?

  * * * *

  “Mom. Look at me. I’m floating.” The minute the words were out of her baby’s mouth, his butt sank and his hands started flapping.

  Dante laughed as he reached out and steadied Dylan. “Slow down, Dylan. Remember what I said the first rule of swimming was?”

  “Pay attention.”

  “That’s right. And that means no showing off for the pretty girls sitting on the side of the pool. Because…”

  Dylan rolled his eyes. “They’ll just laugh at us and think we’re stupid.”

  “Right. Plus, it’s a good way to get hurt. Let’s try this again and I want you to relax, and close your eyes. I’ve got you so you won’t sink. That’s it.” Dante looked up and met her eyes, a smile gracing his face. “I see your mom’s taught you how to breathe. That’s good, but don’t fall asleep like I did.”

  Dylan opened his eyes. “Did you know that sharks sleep with their eyes open? They don’t have eyelids.”

  Dante cocked his head to the side like he was giving her son’s words great consideration. “You know, I think I’ve heard that before. Kind of weird, don’t you think?”

  “Nah. They’re not really sleeping. More like resting, kind of like when Mom tells me to take a nap and I pretend I’m sleeping.”

  “You know I can hear you.” She was sitting on the side of the pool with her feet dangling in the water. It was about as far as she ever went in the water.

  Dylan giggled and his midsection started to sink again. Dante’s hand shot under the water and brought him back up, but her son didn’t need the support.

  “You’re doing great, Ace.” Dante stepped back and her son floated around on his own, not a care in the world. “Ready to try something new? Show me how you can tread water.”

  “Why Ace?” Dylan asked.

  “Because you’re smart and I’m betting you ace all your tests at school, just like you’re going to do with swimming.”

  Her son thought about it for a moment. “Works.”

  With the ease of someone who spent hours and hours in the pool, Dylan shifted positions and dog paddled around. “Did you know that there are over four hundred different types of sharks?”

  Without taking his eyes of Dylan, Dante walked over to her. “What’s his deal with sharks?”

  She waved his concern off. “It’s his latest obsession. This week its sharks, the week before it was velociraptors and next week might be bunnies.”

  “Got it, was starting to worry he’d want to go shark diving or something. I may be a badass, but I have my limits.”

  “Nope, just a curious mind.” She smiled with pride as her son paddled around, barking like a dog and staying afloat.

  Dante instructed Dylan to the side of the pool and then demonstrated how to properly do the freestyle stroke. “Ready to try?”

  Dylan looked at Dante, then down to the water and back. He shook his head and backed up until he hit the concrete edge. His bottom lip quivered. “Can we stick with the dog paddle?” his little voice asked.

  Anger and pain flooded her heart, while tears burned her eyes. Damn it, Sal. If he hadn’t traumatized her, she would have taught Dylan to swim years ago. Still, she should have pushed past the fear or at least found the time—and money—to sign him up for lessons. But she didn’t get one thing: Why wasn’t he afraid ten minutes ago?

  Dante squatted down in front of him until they were eye-to-eye. “We can do whatever you’re comfortable with, Ace.”

  Dylan nodded, but continued to stand there. Dante, bless him, didn’t push but instead switched positions to float on his back.

  “Did you know there are some species of sharks that will drown if they stop moving?”

  “Really?” Dylan eyed him with disbelief and scooted out toward the middle where Dante floated.

  “Yep. The Great White is one of them. They don’t have the muscle needed to pump the water through their mouths and over their gills, so they have to keep moving.” Dante changed positions again as easily and gracefully as a dolphin, so that he was upright and moved his arms back and forth to keep him stable. “Kind of amazing when you consider how dangerous they are, especially to people.”

  Within a few minutes, Dylan was imitating Dante’s moves. “I read that more people are killed by coconuts falling than sharks.”

  Dante’s eyes popped open as he jerked his head back. “Guess I better not sit under any more coconut trees then.”

  The two of them exchanged more shark facts while treading water and playing around. All of Dylan’s earlier fear had slipped away. After a few minutes, Dante took a big breath, then sank below the water. Seconds ticked by, then a minute, and another.

  “Mom, is he okay?”

  Fiona leaned forward and waved, trying to get Dante’s attention. He gave her two thumbs up. “Guess that means he’s all right, baby.”

  Another minute flew by before Dante surfaced.

  “Wow. You can hold your breath for a really long time,” Dylan said, clearly impressed.

  “You’re pretty good at dog paddle, want to race me across the pool?”

  Dylan looked down at the water again, then to her, and back to Dante. “Can I try to hold my breath under water like you did?”

  “Why don’t we do it together and have your mom time us to see how long we can last?” Dante looked to her for her approval, she assumed.

  “Hang on.” Fiona grabbed her cell phone and found the stopwatch app. “Ready when you are.”

  Together the guys counted to three, took a deep breath, and sunk.

  Fiona scooted further out to the edge of the pool, wat
ching, waiting, praying. She kept reminding herself Dante wouldn’t let anything happen and he was right there in front of her son. Still, she caught herself holding her breath as she looked down at the stopwatch app. Thirty seconds. Forty-five. How long were they staying down? Fifty-five. Okay, really that was long enough. Sixty. She was ready to jump into the water when Dylan, followed by Dante, shot up out of the water.

  Laughing, he turned to her. “I bet we were down there for like five minutes. Is that right, Mom?”

  “Umm… almost, kiddo.” Over his head, she caught Dante’s smile and the expectant look in his eyes. “You made it a minute and a half, which is really great for the first time.” Okay, so it was really sixty-three seconds, but she wasn’t going to crush her son’s spirits.

  “Let’s do it again. I bet we can go longer,” Dylan said.

  Dante stroked his chin and looked at her son. “I don’t know, Ace. That’s a long time…”

  “Please? It’s kind of cool under the water. Everything up here looks funny and it’s quiet.” Dylan flashed his big baby browns and she knew Dante would cave.

  “Okay, Mom you heard him. Prepare the stopwatch.”

  And under they went. This time Fiona relaxed as her gaze bounced from the pool to the phone’s app. Dante did an underwater somersault and Dylan did his best to copy him. Watching the two of them, she was amazed at how natural and at ease Dante appeared with her son. It shouldn’t really be a shock, considering how he’d been with the students in his class during their swim test. But kids were different, and not everyone connected with them on their level.

  When her stopwatch hit the real minute and a half mark, Dante surfaced, followed shortly after by Dylan.

  “Great job! You made it ninety-five seconds.” And this time she didn’t have to fib.

  “What’s next, Dante?” Dylan asked as he jumped up and down, creating waves in the pool.

  “You ready to try the freestyle? We’ll work on the arm movements and putting your face in the water for now. Deal?” He stuck his hand out and Dylan grasped it with his own.

  “Deal.”