Tempo Of Love. Kianna Alexander
out of his sweaty shirt. “I don’t have time. And now that I’m married, I have even less time.”
With a shake of his head, Ken stuffed his own damp clothes into his gym bag. “It’s about commitment. You’re not committed.”
“You should be committed. My loyalty is to Joi.” Marco pulled a towel and his shower caddy from his locker and started moving toward the showers. “It’s strange that everything that excites you involves wooden sticks. You work with a pencil, play drums for the band and then come here and swing a bamboo sword for kicks.”
“What can I say? I’m a steady guy.” Ken chuckled and punched Marco in the shoulder as he walked by.
After the men had showered and changed, they moved to the snack bar. Seated at a small table with two protein shakes, they continued their conversation.
“Are you ever going to get serious about kendo?”
“No.” Marco didn’t hesitate with his answer. “To be honest, I don’t know how I let you talk me into coming here in the first place. We both know I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
Ken laughed. “Based on how much you suck at this, I’d have to agree.”
Taking a drink of his shake, Marco frowned. “You know what? I’m not coming back here. When I was single and had free time to kill, that was one thing. But now that I’m married, I see no reason to leave my beautiful wife just to come here and be insulted by the likes of you.”
Ken shook his head. “Do you even know what kendo means? What it’s all about?”
“I don’t, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”
“Yeah, I will. Kendo means ‘the way of the sword.’ It has its basis in the time-honored tradition of Japanese swordsmanship. It builds character, increases physical strength and...”
“Blah, blah, blah.” Marco rolled his eyes. “You know what else builds my character and increases my physical strength? Being home with my wife.”
Ken could see he was losing this battle. “I get it, Marco. I won’t be upset if you decide not to come back to the dojo.”
“Good, because I’m not,” he said as he finished up his smoothie. “What’s going on with you and the newspaper reporter, by the way? Told her your life story yet?”
“Actually I haven’t told her much of anything.” He leaned back in his chair, remembering how irritated Nona had looked when she’d left the coffee shop that day. “Trust me, it wasn’t due to lack of effort on her part.”
“What do you mean?”
“I understand that she’s trying to collect information and that it’s part of her job. But she comes across as a little...pushy.”
Marco shrugged. “What did you expect? Like you said, she has a job to do. Why do you insist on making it hard for her?”
Ken looked past Marco, through the window. Outside, the sun was setting, and the city lights that illuminated the streets of the Queen City by night were starting to appear. He thought of his past and his present. Even though he considered Marco his closest friend, there were many things about Ken’s life that Marco didn’t know. “I have my reasons.”
Groaning, Marco got up from his seat. “If you say so. At any rate, she seems like the type who isn’t going to give up. If you want to get her out of your hair, you’re going to have to answer some questions.”
As vexing as it was, Ken knew Marco was right. Nona Gregory did not strike him as a woman who’d be content with failure. She didn’t even seem like the type who’d be satisfied with knowing him on the surface level, either. No, she was going to keep digging and digging until she hit pay dirt.
That dogged determination to know everything about him was what worried him the most.
“Listen. I need to get home to Joi. She’s making my favorite dessert tonight.”
“What’s that?”
“Whipped cream.”
“What?” He couldn’t make any sense of his friend’s answer.
Marco winked. “Strategically placed whipped cream. Get yourself a good woman and you too can enjoy this decadent treat.”
Shaking his head, Ken grabbed their empty cups. “Get out of here, Marco.”
“With pleasure.”
Ken tossed the cups in the trash as Marco made his way out the door.
As dawn painted the sky on Thursday morning, Nona stood by a bench in Freedom Park. Dressed in her close-fitting running pants and a black tee, she stretched by lifting first one ankle, then the other, behind her bottom. Sheba sat dutifully at Nona’s feet with her leash looped around the bench armrest. The dog’s steady breathing was the only sound that competed with the chirping of birds and the soft morning breeze rustling the grass and trees.
The bench Nona had staked out was strategically located near the only entry point to the park’s running trail. As she stood, bouncing in place to prime her muscles for the upcoming run, she smiled.
He’ll be here any minute.
She’d spoken with Ken briefly by phone Wednesday evening and had asked if she could accompany him on his morning run in order to chat with him. To her surprise, he’d agreed right away. Now all that was left was to keep up with him, but she didn’t have any worries about that. She was in incredible shape due to her own running and other fitness habits.
The sound of an engine pulled her attention toward the nearby parking lot. The two-door coupe slipped into a spot a few places down from her car, and the driver cut the engine.
When Ken stepped out of the car, Nona’s gaze fixed on him.
He looked somewhat different in the early morning light, dressed in his running clothes. He wore a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of dark blue running shorts, which left the muscled expanse of his arms and legs visible. As he walked her way, the muscles flexed in time with his movements.
Her heart began to pound in her ears. When she’d met him a few days ago in his business casual dress, she would never have imagined he was built so solidly. She swallowed to empty her mouth, which suddenly watered. Reaching to her waist, she pulled the water bottle from her pack and took a quick swig.
Entering her space with an easy smile, he spoke. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she managed.
He stooped down to give Sheba’s head a rub. “Cute pup. You two ready?”
She smiled. Sheba hadn’t backed away from him to indicate any dislike. That was a good sign. “Yes, we’re ready.”
They walked to the trail ahead as Nona held the end of Sheba’s leash.
“I see you’re on time today,” Nona teased.
“I’m never late for my runs.” Ken squatted to tie his shoelace, moving fluidly into the runner’s mark stance. “I suppose you have more questions about my life?”
She shrugged. “Of course I do. You didn’t give me anything last time.”
“You knew I run here.”
“I found that out on my own.”
He chuckled. “Beat me back to the trailhead, and we’ll talk.”
Her face scrunched into a frown. “You didn’t say that on the phone.”
“Those are my terms.” He raised his hips, indicating his impending start.
Matching him, Nona drew a deep breath.