Disarmed by Love

by Gail Chianese

  Fiona leaned back, letting the late morning sun warm her face and torso. Rarely did she have downtime. If she wasn’t at the base running the navy classes through their workouts, she was at the yoga studio teaching, and when she was off work, she had Dylan to keep her hopping. Not that she minded. Her baby was worth working two jobs. And she loved her work. Neither of which stopped her from dreaming about lounging on the beach under a bright blue sky, a nice breeze kissing her skin, and a hot cabana guy bringing her chilled drinks.

  She peeked at the guys in the pool. They were focused on perfecting Dylan’s stroke technique. Since they didn’t need her she relocated to the lounge chair. It wasn’t the dream, but she could close her eyes and pretend it was paradise.

  “What’s going on here?” A deep, voice asked.

  Nope, definitely not paradise. She clamped down on her jaw, took a slow, steadying breath and opened her eyes.

  “Dad, I’m learning to swim.”

  “You’re doing a great job, too.”

  “Sal, what are you doing here?” She knotted her wrap around her waist and stood to face her ex-husband. “It’s not your weekend.”

  “Mia dragged me to an estate auction this morning. She loves that old stuff.” He shrugged. “Figured since we were so close, we’d pick up Dylan for a few. Hey, Slugger, what do you say to a burger and fries?”

  She crossed her arms. “You should have called first. As you can see, we’re in the middle of—”

  “Please, Mom. Can I go with Dad and Mia?” Dylan had gotten out of the pool and looked up at her.

  “Dylan, honey. What about your lesson? Dante took time out of his schedule to be here for you. It’s not fair to bail on him.” She flashed Dante an apologetic smile, hating that he was witnessing the exchange.

  “I’m tired of swimming and I’m hungry,” her son whined.

  She hated saying no to him, but he had to learn that he didn’t always get his own way. Still… they had been in the pool for an hour. But it was her weekend, not his. Did saying no make her selfish? After all, Dylan had been with her all week. And he was Dylan’s father… who was trying to take him from her. Maybe this was part of his plan: spoil him rotten. What was next Six Flags, new video games every week, no bedtimes and junk food whenever?

  Gah! If only she could trust Sal and his motives. Then again, it was really hard to trust someone who wasn’t honest with you. If things had been different between her and Sal, if they had just grown apart and divorced, it would be one thing. If he was still the same guy she’d fallen for, the charming, funny guy who treated her like she was everything in the world. The guy who begged her to start a family. But he wasn’t.

  She looked down at the face of her baby, so innocent, so hopeful, so trusting. Oh, why couldn’t Sal have gotten stationed somewhere on the other side of the world? It wasn’t that she wanted to deprive her son of knowing his father. She just knew that sooner or later, Dylan would get hurt.

  Because tigers don’t change their stripes.

  And once a cheater, always a cheater.

  Sooner or later, Sal would cheat on Mia, and Dylan would have to say good-bye to someone he loved. And before Mia came into Sal’s life, to say his interest in fatherhood was microscopic was generous. Fiona doubted the good dad act would continue without Mia’s influence.

  “Mom, please?” Dylan held pleading hands to his chest. “I’ll even clean my room when I get home.”

  She had to fight a smile. As bribery attempts went, it wasn’t bad. She looked over his head to Dante, who shrugged in return. Not sure what that was supposed to mean, she sighed.

  “Okay, but it better be spotless.”

  “Hey, Slugger. Why don’t you run inside and put on dry clothes while I talk to your mom?”

  Dylan waved to Dante and yelled thanks as he took off for the apartment. Thankfully, their bottom floor unit faced the pool, so he could slip through the slider with her watching.

  Sal glanced over his shoulder to where Dante had gotten out of the pool and stood drying off his hair with a towel. “Who is this guy?”

  “He’s a friend of mine.”

  “Yeah? That doesn’t make him qualified to teach my son to swim.”

  He didn’t bother to keep his voice down or hide the contempt in his tone.

  Dante smirked, but didn’t say anything. He dropped the towel on the chair and slipped his t-shirt on.

  “I’ll remind you, it’s not your choice. Remember out parenting agreement? You didn’t want to be involved in any decisions regarding our son, which means I don’t need your permission or approval.” She kept her voice low. “What time will you drop Dylan off?”

  “I don’t know. Whenever we get done.”

  “Sal, I have things to do.”

  “So, go do them.”

  “What if I’m not here when you bring Dylan home?”

  “He’s ten; he can stay home alone.”

  “No, he can’t,” she ground out.

  Sal was watching Dante who had walked a couple of feet further away and was checking his phone, or pretending to give them some semblance of privacy.

  “I don’t like the guy. Find someone else to teach Dylan. Or better yet, I’ll teach my son to swim.”

  “What? You don’t even know Dante. Plus, he’s a certified lifeguard and you don’t have a pool.” Not that she’d let the jerk teach her son. His idea of learning to swim was to throw Dylan in the pool and let him figure it out for himself. They’d had that discussion when she’d been pregnant.

  “Yeah? Well, what’s wrong with him? He looks like he’s going through withdrawals.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Dante. His hands were shaking. He had dark smudges under his eyes and stress lines deep between his eyebrows.

  He was probably exhausted. He’d mentioned he had a rough night and he did fall asleep in class, then she dragged him home to teach her son to swim.

  Not once did he complain.

  He’d made a promise to Fiona and unlike someone else she could think of, Dante had kept that promise.

  Normally Fiona didn’t believe in violence. Right then, with Sal’s smug, arrogant face in hers and his rude, mean words, she wanted to knock him on his butt. But she couldn’t. First because he outweighed her by double and second, he was Dylan’s father. Too bad her best friend wasn’t there. Risa would have clocked him without a second thought.

  “Nothing is wrong with him.” She wasn’t about to share Dante’s personal business with her ex. “And don’t be such a jerk.”

  “I’m looking out for our son’s welfare,” he sneered and walked over to Dante.

  Right. Their son had meant so much to him, that Sal hadn’t even told him he was getting married until after the fact.

  Sal got up in Dante’s face, his chest puffed out, and his chin thrust forward. “Sal Rossi. Dylan’s dad. And you are?”

  “Dante Torres.” Dante extended his hand. “You’ve got a great kid.”

  Sal ignored him. “So what do you do, Torres? How did you meet Fiona?”

  “At work.”

  “You work at the gym? What are you the janitor?”

  Fee pushed her way between the two. “Sal, knock it off. Dante is an instructor at the academy.”

  “Yeah? What do you teach?”

  “The usual: communications, naval history, leadership and ethics…”

  Sal’s face paled as Dante’s words penetrated his thick skull. He had insulted an officer. “OCS?”

  “Mustangs,” Dante said, referring the name given to the highly respected men and women who had worked their way up the ranks from enlisted to officer.

  Sal took a step away, glancing toward the apartment. “What did you do before?”

  “EOD. You?”

  “Machinist Mate, subs. You a diver?”

&nb
sp; “Yep.”

  The sliding door opened and her son ran out of the apartment with his hair sticking in multiple directions and dressed in clean shorts and a t-shirt.

  “Guess Dylan’s in good hands in the water then.” He turned to Fiona. “I’ll give your cell a call when we’re on our way back.”

  When her ex and son were gone, Fiona turned back to Dante. “I’m sorry. There’s a reason he’s my ex-husband.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. He was just doing what any guy would do in his position.”

  “You mean mark his territory?” She waved away any response he might have had. “It doesn’t matter. What does is how wonderful you were with Dylan. Thank you.”

  “He’s a great kid. Once he reached his comfort level, he took off. I don’t think it will be long before he’s zipping back and forth doing laps in the pool.” He glanced down to his waterproof watch. “I should get out of your hair so you can run those errands.”

  “You don’t have to. I mean, Sal says he’s going to call, but he won’t, so I’m just going to hang out here.”

  He looked around and then wiggled his eyebrows. “We do have the pool all to ourselves. Seems a shame to waste it.”

  She backed up a couple of steps, shaking her head. “I don’t do pools.”

  “I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds naughty.” He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers.

  “Is your mind ever out of the gutter?” His hands were warm, and strong, and made her feel safe, but not enough to get in the water.

  “On occasion. Tell me why you ‘don’t do pools.’” He reached out and took a strand of her hair wrapping it around his fingers.

  “I almost drowned.”

  “Tell me about it.” He tugged her to the edge of the pool, where she’d been sitting earlier. “Is this okay, right here?”

  She nodded and sat down next to him. “There’s not much to tell. It was years ago, but kind of the thing that sticks with you.”

  He stroked his thumb over the soft spot on her inner wrist. “Were you alone? In a pool? The ocean? Got a cramp? Fall in during a frat party when you were drunker than a skunk on a Saturday night?”

  She laughed. If only it had been one of those reasons. “It was a pool, no I wasn’t alone or drunk, fell, or had cramps. Someone thought it would be funny to hold me under and see if I could break free. It wasn’t until I stopped struggling and another person noticed that it looked like I wasn’t breathing that they pulled me out of the water.”

  Vivid images of that day flashed through her mind. She’d kicked, clawed, and pushed against the hands holding her under. Chlorine had burned her eyes and lungs as water rushed into her mouth. The paramedic’s kind face over hers when she came to was like looking into the face of an angel. His words were burned into her memory.

  “Someone else had called 911. Apparently, I wasn’t responding to CPR. They said another minute or two and I would have been a goner.”

  “Shit, Fiona. Who the hell were you with? A bunch of dumb kids?”

  “My ex-husband.” The words hung heavy in the air between them. Admitting that the man who said he loved you almost killed you tended to put a damper on people’s moods.

  For several long minutes they sat in silence, letting the sun shine down on them, as the soft strains of old school rock floated through the air from a nearby apartment. Those brief seconds, minutes, hours… whatever it had been while she had struggled for her life played over and over. It happened eleven years ago. For more than a decade she’d let Sal influence her, had let him steal away one of life’s pleasures and fill her with fear.

  She was tired of letting him rule her life.

  “Dante.” She looked into dark eyes filled with compassion. “Teach me to swim.”

  Chapter 7

  She was a fantasy floating in his arms, with one hand cupping her ass, while the other resisted the urge to pull the string securing her red bikini top. That’s all it would take to remove the barrier: one little tug. Mere inches separated his mouth and Fiona’s delectable breasts.

  “Dante?”

  Laughing hazel eyes looked up at him.

  “What?”

  “Are you ogling my chest?” A delicately arched brow rose, daring him to deny the accusation.

  “Probably. I mean it’s right there in my line of sight. Kind of hard to ignore.” He’d have to be dead not to notice, or have suffered a lot more brain damage than he had. Not too large, not too small, but just right with soft curves and toned muscles that he imagined would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

  She splashed him in the face. “You’re supposed to make sure I don’t sink.”

  “Trust me, I am.” He patted her bottom to prove it.

  “I’m not exactly floating either, more like you’re holding me up.”

  “That’s because when I move my hands, your butt sinks.”

  “Are you saying I have a big butt?” She arched that brow, just the one at him and he wanted to confess. To what he didn’t know, but guilt flooded through him.

  “Absolutely not.” If there was one thing his mama didn’t do, that was raise fools for sons. “You need to find your center as you said this morning. Find that place where your mind and body can relax.”

  “How am I supposed to relax with your hands on me while you ogle my breasts? If we reversed roles, would you be relaxed?”

  He grinned. “I don’t know about relaxed, but definitely happy.”

  There was something about Fiona Sinclair that brought out the Zen in him—and the fact he even used a word like Zen blew his mind. She made him smile, laugh, and when he was with her, work was the furthest thing from his mind. He found himself open to new ideas and letting go of old ones.

  She made him happy.

  Fiona reached out and grabbed his arm to steady, while she switched into a standing position. “Maybe we should try this some other time?”

  “You’re doing great though. You’re in the water, in the middle of the pool, and you haven’t hyperventilated in at least fifteen minutes.”

  And he was enjoying the time with her, not to mention the view. He didn’t want to go back to his quiet apartment and stare at four blank walls. He didn’t want to go to sleep where the dream would sweep him back to that moment. He wanted to hear Fiona’s voice and laughter and see her smile. He wanted her to give him that I-dare-you look, and he sure as hell didn’t want to take his hands off her creamy, smooth skin.

  “Baby steps, Dante.” She walked backward until her back was pressed against the side of the pool. “Some things shouldn’t be rushed.”

  Unable to deny the pull she had on him, he swam to her. With his palms braced on the pool edge, he leaned down to put them eye-to-eye. “Sometimes it’s better to dive right in, to not hold back, and enjoy the moment.”

  She ran her finger down the middle of his chest and poked him in the stomach. “True, but sometimes you need to consider the consequences first. Build up trust. Weigh the pros and cons.”

  He captured her hand and pressed it against his heart. “What’s the harm in having a little fun?”

  Her breath came out in fast, measured puffs. “Someone can get hurt and I’ve more to think of than just me.”

  “What if…” He lifted her hand to nibble the tips of her fingers. “I promised no one would get hurt? What if I promised to keep it slow, at a pace you’re comfortable with and when you say enough, I back away?”

  “So baby steps?”

  “Slow and steady.” He pressed their joined hands to his chest and moved in closer. “One step at a time.”

  “Dante.” Fiona tilted her head. “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He did as requested. He meant for it to be a soft kiss to test the waters, and then to back away. Baby steps. But her eyes flared with passion and he went back for seconds.
He cupped her face; afraid he’d lose her. Fiona sucked in her breath and he dove in deep. A sweep of his tongue between her sweetly parted lips. Honey and cinnamon exploded across his taste buds. And he was lost, sinking his hands into her hair to bring her closer.

  He couldn’t get enough.

  Fiona grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He slid one hand down her back as he spun her around to take the pressure from the edge of the pool off her back. She locked her arms around his neck and met him stroke for stroke.

  He couldn’t breathe.

  He didn’t care. He could die a happy man if Fiona’s kisses were the last thing he experienced in life. She had set his soul on fire. It was the first time in months he’d felt truly alive.

  Someone cleared their throat. “Are we interrupting?”

  Fiona pulled back and sighed into his mouth. He leaned his forehead against hers, while he caught his breath.

  “Risa.” Fiona laughed. “If she wasn’t my best friend, I’d kill her for her lousy timing.”

  Fiona turned her head, still leaning against him. “As a matter of fact—”

  “About bloody time.” A slight English accent punctuated her words. With a grin on her face, she sat on the chaise lounge. “We could leave?”

  Somehow he didn’t think she meant the offer.

  Dante looked behind the pretty blonde, to the man with her holding a baby. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him.

  “Jax, is that you?” he asked.

  The guy broke out into a smile and came forward. “I’ll be. Inferno, what are you doing here?”

  “I’d think that’d be obvious.” Dante smirked at his old friend.

  Jackson “Jax” Faraday rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, I meant Rhode Island.”

  “Wait. You two know each other?” Fiona looked back and forth between the men.

  Dante lifted her by the waist and set her on the apron of the pool, before jumping out. He grabbed a towel, draped it over his head and hugged Jax.

  The baby giggled. Risa swore and Fiona laughed.

  “It’s good to see you. Enders was out last year, doing some training before I got out. He told me what happened—”