The men all did that guy greeting where they half-hugged and slapped each other on the back—all except Dante’s father. He never got up from his lawn chair. He waited for Dante and her to approach him. Definitely king of the castle.
Once the kids were off and playing, he guided Fiona inside to the kitchen to meet his mother. They stood in the doorway while two women sang along to Adele, hips swinging and cooking up a storm. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Dante’s grin and a spark in his eye.
This was his happy place, even if they all drove him crazy at times.
Dante cleared his throat and the women turned in unison.
“M’ijo, you’re here.” His mother wrapped him in a hug that Fiona knew well. It came from the deepest part of a mother’s heart and said she never wanted to let him go.
“Katia, move over and share that boy of yours,” the other woman, older, with the bluest eyes Fiona had ever seen and slight Irish lilt, said. “Dante, welcome home.”
“Fiona, let me introduce you to the loves of my life. My mother, Katia, and Gram Ryan, but I’m sure she won’t mind if you call her Kitty.”
Both women welcomed her with kisses on her cheek and hugs.
Before she could say more than hello, Mateo—Dante’s younger brother—popped his head into the kitchen. “Could you all come outside for a moment, please?”
“M’ijo, we’re cooking. Don’t you want to eat?”
Mateo grinned and turned red. “This is important, Mama, and turn off the stove.”
The group followed him outside and watched as he took his fiancé’s hand. They made a striking couple. Alastair was tall, lithe, and blonde, where Mateo was an inch or two shorter, a little more built and had black hair like his family.
“We have a little surprise for all of you. Well most of you, as Cherry and Tawny already know and because neither of them can keep a secret, Jason and David know, too. And then we had to tell Gramps—”
“Love, you’re rambling. Breathe.” Alastair’s crisp British accent reminded Fiona of Risa’s mom. No matter what they said, it came off as sophisticated, with a touch of authority.
“We’re getting married,” Mateo squealed.
“So what?” George, the oldest Torres sibling said. “That’s not news.”
“I mean today. Now. Here.”
At his words, two men she hadn’t met and Tawny’s husband walked around the side of the house carrying an arch decorated with flowers and tall vases of more flowers. They followed Tawny’s orders on where to set them down, while Cherry fixed the flowers.
“Matty, you can’t get married today,” his mother cried out. “We need a church, and a minister, and… and your friends.”
Mateo took her hands in his. “Mama, we have everyone we need and want to share our day with right here. Cherry is going to perform the service for us.”
“But she’s not a minister.”
“Actually, I am legally recognized in the state of Rhode Island.”
“But you need a cake,” his mother protested.
“I believe Tawny has that taken care of, too.”
She pointed to three boxes on a table in the shade. “Cupcakes, but they are the best ever from Sin Bakery.” Her husband chuckled and her cheeks blossomed a lovely shade of pink to match the boxes.
His mother had tears in her eyes. “What about Alastair’s family? Won’t they be upset with you?”
“My father’s health prevents him from traveling. However, we’re going to video chat them in so they can witness the exchange of our vows.”
She looked to her husband, who stood up from his chair. “What do you need us to do?” he asked.
Within minutes Tawny had them all clear the space, set up the flowers and power up the computer. Alastair and Mateo stepped inside to change into suits and even though the grooms told everyone they were fine as they were, Dante’s parents went to change as well. Alex, Dante’s sister-in-law rounded up all the kids to clean them up. Thankfully Fiona had picked her best sundress for the party. Feeling lost and useless, she looked around to find a way to help.
Tawny shoved a camera in her hands. “Congratulations—you’ve just been made the official photographer. My mother will want a million pictures of everyone.”
Holy crud. Pictures were important, they were the one tangible thing that lasted from your wedding that could bring all the memories flooding back in one second. She shoved the camera back at Tawny. “I’m a personal trainer. Want your brother tortured? I’m your gal, but I know nothing about light and composition.”
“Please. You’re a mom, which is almost the same thing as a pro.”
She didn’t know about that, but she checked out the camera and took a few test shots of the kids. Swinging around, she caught Jason and Dave snipping roses for the guys’ boutonnières. Cherry and Tawny had their heads together, with wicked looks of mischief that made Fiona wonder what they were planning. She turned and zoomed in on her next subject, her breath catching. Dante’s muscles flexed as he swung his nephew up onto his shoulders, a smile of pure delight lighting up his face.
He was a natural with kids and people, so why hadn’t he settled down like his other siblings? Realizing—not for the first time that day—that her mind had drifted down the lane to Fantasy Island, she turned away and caught the parents exiting the house. For the next few minutes she focused on the job she’d been given, snapping picture after picture of the wedding.
Dylan sat quietly with the other kids during the ceremony. Dante manned the music, while the eldest Torres sibling and Tawny’s husband, Dave, stood in as best men.
Cherry unfolded a piece of paper and looked to the men. “Mateo and Alastair, it is with great privilege and honor that we are here today to witness the love, respect and desire that you each have to share your lives, not just as a couple, but in wedded union.”
She took their hands in each of hers. “Marriage is work, but the best kind, and takes effort. There will be times when you will test each other’s patience. When this happens remember why you stood here today. There will be times when you may not like each other. Remember today. There will be times when you feel like the world is against you. Remember you are not alone. You have each other.”
“I asked my grandparents for advice before my wedding on the secret to a happy marriage. Gramps said it was always giving Grams her way. Then Grams smacked him and he told me this: Never go to bed angry, never stop talking, never stop laughing and most importantly… never stop loving each other.”
Fiona got lost taking pictures of Mateo and Alastair as Cherry talked. Their faces were full of love and hope and happiness. So much of each, she felt a little hollow inside and swung around to capture the family. Her eyes met Dante’s. He’d been watching her from across the crowd. Intense, dangerous, and so much longing that she ached to reach out to him. To wrap her arms around his neck and play with his silky strands while she tasted his mouth.
But what she was feeling was more than lust. She liked him. Liked his laugh and the way he made her feel safe and didn’t laugh over her fear of the water. She liked how he treated everyone around them as an equal, adult or child. She liked his sense of humor, honor (even when it drove her nuts) and his obvious love of his family. And she liked the way he looked at her, not just with longing and desire, but as a friend and as if she were the only person around. He looked as if he couldn’t wait to tell her a joke or just hear her voice.
He looked at her as if she mattered.
The group around her started clapping and she realized the ceremony was over. It had been simple, sweet, and short. Well, the parts she remembered. Dante flashed her a sly smile and changed up the music to Faith Hill’s “This Kiss” as the grooms did just that.
One of the boys, Tommy maybe, jumped up and yelled, “Time for cake!”
The crowd laughed and lined up to give th
e new couple their congrats, along with many hugs and kisses. Dante stepped up to her side, sliding his arm around her waist.
“Have I told you, you look stunning today?”
“No, but are you inferring I normally look dreadful?”
“Not at all.” He set the camera down and spun her around to dance on the lawn to the music still playing. “I’m quite fond of your yoga pants and how they hug your curves, but there is something about you in a dress.”
She glanced down. There was nothing particularly sexy about the dress. Neither cut low or high, with cap sleeves and a skirt that didn’t cling. “Is it a good something or a bad something?”
He gave her a quick dip backwards and brought her up fast and hard to press against his chest. “Definitely good. I want to say it makes you softer—”
“Soft as in weak?” she cut in.
“No. Like quiet Sunday mornings, walks on the beach and candlelight dinners. Soft as in compassionate and giving.” His breath tickled her ear, and the side of her neck as he continued to whisper. “It’s a side I don’t think you let many see. A side you hide behind your warrior persona. I like that you share both sides with me.”
He let go and stepped away when his brother called to him to join in for a group picture of the men, leaving her wondering. Did she really hide a part of her from others? Maybe, but she didn’t think it was intentional. Her job as a trainer called for her to lead, to be tough, to push the men and women in her classes to do their best. If she went soft on her students they’d walk all over her.
Goodness knows she wasn’t a hard mom. Dylan wasn’t spoiled, but he didn’t want for much either. And she showered him with love and attention, giving him praise, not criticism. She was firm when called for, but that rarely happened with her son.
Had anyone ever called her soft before? Not that she remembered. If she did hold back a part of herself, she wondered, how did Dante see it when no one else did?
The next hour or so flew by as more pictures were snapped, the happy couple chatted with family far away and the food was brought out. Plates and plates and plates of food. Fiona’s mouth watered as the aroma hit her senses: grilled onions, hints of garlic and cinnamon, peppers, the distinctive scent of steak, and the sweet smell of fresh fruit.
She snagged two plates, loaded them up for her and Dylan and sat at the first available spot. Dylan abandoned her to eat with his new friends. Dante moved to sit next to her, but his sister-in-law hip checked him.
“Go sit with the men. It’s our turn to grill Fiona.”
Fiona took a sip of her Sangria and focused on her plate. If her mouth was full of food, she couldn’t stick her foot in there instead. Dante grinned.
“I’m not worried. My girl can make grown men cry and does on a regular basis.”
He sauntered away leaving her to the sharks.
“Fiona, swallow. We know that trick. Tell us how you met my brother?” Tawny asked.
“He ran me over.”
“With his car?” Cherry’s mouth fell open as she shot dirty looks in Dante’s direction.
“Walking.” She took another bite of the carne asada taco and fought the urge to groan in ecstasy.
“How do you make men cry?” Dante’s mother asked. “I might want to learn that trick with my crew.”
“Or my husband.” Grams exchanged a look with Mrs. Torres and Fiona made a note to keep those ladies on her good side.
“I’m the personal trainer at the base and run the morning PT classes. They call me the Mistress of Pain.”
“Oh, I like that.” Alex laughed. “I want that nickname.”
“How long have you and Dante been dating?” Cherry asked as she casually took a bite of salad, looking entirely too innocent.
Fiona did the same, because she really didn’t know the answer.
Were they dating? Sure, they’d been on a date—one, but did that really constitute anything worth mentioning? Then there were those kisses. That had to mean something. It’s not like she went around kissing every one of her clients. This whole thing between her and Dante was fresh and new and not something she wanted to really share.
“I followed your work on the community center a couple of years ago. I have to say the fundraiser you two put on was amazing,” she said to Cherry and Tawny.
“She’s redirecting,” Tawny said to Cherry.
“Yep, I noticed. Normally, when Jason does that it’s because he’s hiding something.”
“Makes me want to dig even more,” Tawny said.
“Me too,” Alex responded.
“Girls!” Grams set down her cup with a thud. “I’d think if anyone would understand a person’s wish for privacy, you would.”
There were three “yes, ma’am” and the conversation turned to kids, food, and jobs, leaving Fiona to eat in peace and think about their question.
* * * *
“You’re brave.” George tapped Dante’s beer bottle with his own. “Bringing your girlfriend to a family event. You know Mama’s already planning the wedding. Right?”
“Maybe you should give her a distraction, like another grandkid,” Dante shot back. He knew there would be questions, but it didn’t mean he’d have to answer them.
“Nope, Alex threatened to cut my equipment off if I so much as suggested another baby. It’s Tawny and Dave’s turn. They’ve only got one, I’ve got four.”
Dave choked on his food. “No way, guys. Not yet. Maybe never. Cat’s not even out of diapers yet and there’s enough estrogen in my house to power a small country. Any more and I’ll have to live in the dog house and we don’t have a dog.”
“Fine. Wimp out. We’ll let the newlyweds take one for the team.” Dante looked to his baby brother who was lost in convo with his husband.
Or so he thought.
“Dream on, Dante.” Mateo smirked. “We’ve been taking the heat for the past couple of years. It’s your turn to take center stage and let the rest of us breathe for a bit.”
“Jase, old buddy?”
He shook his head. “Cherry wants to finish her master’s program first.”
His father and Gramps had stayed quiet, as they devoured their food and let the younger generation talk. But when Gramps set down his plate and dusted off his hands, all eyes were on him.
“You hearing this bunch, Jorge? They think they know the way of it, of life and love and women.”
Dad snickered and shook his head. “They know nothing. They’re young and foolish, but they’re learning.”
“Yes, they are, slowly, one by one, they’re smartening up. What are they going to do when we’re not here to guide them? They think they have all the time in the world.” Gramps turned back to rest of the group, scowling. “Let me tell the lot of you, you don’t, time is whizzing by and one day, you’ll be the old men at the gathering.” His Irish lilt rolled softly across the words that hit straight at the heart.
Daniel and Kitty Ryan—Gramps and Gram—were really Cherry’s paternal grandparents. Blood or marital ties aside, they were the Torres siblings’ grandparents or the closet they’d ever had. Life without them? The thought slayed Dante. Hell, he’d rather knock on death’s door again, offering up himself.
“Gramps, haven’t you heard? Only the good die young.”
Jason and Dave raised their glasses in salute, as the brothers exchanged a knowing look. None of them looked forward to that day, and prayed it was a long way off.
“Ha, boyo. You got that right. If it hadn’t been for my Kitty, I’d have already crossed over or been condemned to a life forever in this world. You’d do well to take note and make an honest woman out of that pretty wee lass.”
Dante squirmed in his seat as all eyes landed on him. Damn Matty. Why did he have to go and get married? Now, Dante was the lone survivor. The odd man out. The last to take that walk and plunge into m
arital bliss. And looking around him, he had no doubts that when you found the right person, the one, marriage was great. Sure, he’d seen his share go sour in the military. It was a hard life, unpredictable at best, often crappy, and every now and then the biggest thrill a person could experience.
But it wasn’t always marriage friendly and absence didn’t always make the heart grow fonder. It took a special breed to survive, spouses had to be strong, independent, resilient and they had to have faith and trust. He didn’t believe every marriage in the military failed either. There were plenty that made it, that rose to the challenge and met it head on and kicked ass. He just hadn’t met that person yet, his warrior princess, who would always have his six.
Or had he?
Dante looked up to find Fiona watching him. She was laughing at something one of the women had said. He looked around, saw his family, his friends and realized she fit, as did Dylan.
Gramps’ comment had his brain whirling down a path he wasn’t sure either he or Fiona was ready to check out. Time to take control of the conversation and direct it away from him and his love life.
“George, what’s with the phone? You watching a game or is Alex sending you secret texts from across the yard?” His brother kept looking down at his phone every few seconds, knee bouncing, with nervous energy flowing. “Everything okay at work?”
“Business is booming. It’s the new assistant manager Alex made me hire. I don’t know if he’s going to work out.”
“He covered for you when you took the family to Florida,” Dad said.
“Yeah, and people complained about slow service and we almost had a kitchen fire.” He blew out a breath, checked the phone again. “Alex says give him a chance.”
“You going to argue with her?” Gramps asked.
“Dios, no. Not unless I want to sleep on the couch for a week.” George looked across the yard, his eyes on his wife.
“Good man.” Gramps chuckled. “Let that be a lesson to you all. Never tell your woman she’s wrong, unless you’re prepared to pay up.”
The group said a collective “Amen” and Dave excused himself to check on his daughter. Mateo and Alastair headed to the dessert table.
Disarmed by Love Page 14