Kianna Alexander - Tempo Of Love

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.

Chapter 4

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.

He took off like a shot, his powerful legs propelling him forward.

She followed a second later and soon matched his pace.

Sheba kept up with both of them, allowing her youthful energy to have its head.

While Nona ran, cutting through the humid morning air like a knife, she thought about his trickery. In his overconfidence, he obviously thought he’d beat her in this impromptu footrace and then be released from any obligation to speak to her. She had no intention of letting him off the hook, so she made sure to keep her strides long.

When he glanced to his left and saw her easily keeping pace with him, a flicker of worry crossed his face. It was only there for a moment before he kicked into second gear and picked up his pace.

With a smile, Nona sped up as well. The wind whipped her ponytail as Sheba ran alongside her. She felt powerful, exhilarated. There was nothing like a morning run to get the blood pumping and the gears turning.

Sheba reached the trailhead first, followed closely by her mistress.

When Ken got there, he leaned over, placing his large hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Nona, still standing upright, felt winded yet triumphant. “What’s the matter? Didn’t get your coffee this morning?”

He stood, making a show of rolling his eyes at her. “Oh, please. The dog obviously tugged you across the finish line.”

Sheba cocked her head to the side, as if she took offense.

Nona waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. Don’t be a sore loser.” She pointed to the bench. “Now, you owe me an interview, sir.”

As if admitting defeat, he trudged over to the bench and plopped down. “Three questions. Ask away.”

Parts of her wanted to kick him in the shin. “After all that, all I get is three questions?”

He nodded. “For now, yes.”

She shook her head. He certainly had an odd way of approaching things. Having interviewed artists in the past, this wasn’t her first time encountering this type of behavior. “Fine.”

He watched her as she called Sheba to sit and joined him on the bench. “What do you want to know?”

“Plenty, but we’ll start with this.” She laid her smartphone on her lap and set it to record. “Mr. Yamada, when did you first sense that you wanted to pursue the arts?”

He raised a hand to scratch his chin, his gaze fixed on some faraway point. “I was in college, majoring in computer graphics. We completed a class project that involved developing plans and schematics for a fictional skyscraper. I’d always loved to draw for as long as I could remember. But when we worked on that project, I fell in love with architecture. It’s the meeting of math, science and art.”

She nodded, both impressed and intrigued by his answer. “I see. My next question is, what was the first architectural design of your professional career?”

“Hmm. When I first opened Yamada Creative a few years back, I took on a project to build a new library for Duck, North Carolina. It’s a very small town, and their entire collection fit into a one-story building of about seventy-five hundred square feet. It wasn’t a glamorous project, but I was able to provide the residents of Duck with a new facility that met their needs.”

She was enjoying discovering some facts about Ken’s architecture work. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she was also enjoying his company. Aware that she only had one question left, she decided to make it a good one. “What has been your favorite project so far?”

He didn’t hesitate. “The children’s hospital in Lillyville. My team and I worked on the design over the course of eight or nine months. The town didn’t have a proper facility for kids with serious injuries and diseases, and we took that into consideration in our design. We wanted to build something that incorporated meeting the medical needs of very sick children while also conveying a sense of whimsy and playfulness. I think we accomplished that.”

“Wow. You speak very passionately about the hospital project.”

He smiled, turning her way. “It’s definitely the one I’m most proud of. I still go over there about once a month to visit with the patients and just enjoy what I created.”

Her eyes connected with his, and a prickle ran up her spine. Hearing the way he spoke about the children’s hospital touched her in a way she hadn’t expected.

His voice broke into her thoughts. “That was your last question.”

“I know.” She continued to keep eye contact with him, not wanting the moment to end.

He leaned closer, the heat of his body radiating out to mingle with hers. “Are you saying you’re satisfied?”