She broke the kiss. “Steaming-hot noodles first; steamy-hot sex second.”
“Deal.”
They stopped at a roadside noodle joint. Amery was more interested in watching Ronin interact with the locals, than what type of noodle dish he ordered for them, because weren’t all bowls of noodles basically the same?
No. Not even close.
Amery ate her food so fast Ronin laughed. Then he ordered her a smaller bowl of another kind of noodles and she downed that too.
She fought a wave of sleepiness as they climbed back in the car and drove to Kyoto.
Ronin’s phone rang. Was it her imagination or did Ronin sit up straighter before he answered?
When he said, “Ojisan,” she knew why Ronin had tensed; his grandfather was calling.
The conversation lasted longer than she’d expected. Ronin said her name several times. He even laughed—a genuine laugh.
That boggled the mind. From everything she’d heard, and what she’d read online, Nureki Okada was one scary man—even at his advanced age—and not prone to joking. Ever. Someone had even commented he’d had his funny bone removed in his youth in favor of having a shark’s fin implanted.
Ronin hung up and remained quiet longer than usual.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. My grandfather sends his best wishes that we enjoy our time in Japan until he sees us in Tokyo.” He paused. “It’s . . . strange how much easier it is to speak with him now. I thought he’d be cold and pull that ‘I’m disappointed’ bullshit, especially since Shiori is in a holding pattern as far as continuing in the family business. But he seems happy with how my mother is handling everything.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Very good.” Ronin threaded their fingers together. “He asked about you.” A soft smile curved his lips. “Wanting to know if you were pregnant yet. In the past I would’ve seen that as him meddling in my life.”
“But now?”
“Now I see it for what it is. His way of wanting a connection with us and having hope for the future.”
Amery laid her head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait to meet him even though I’m scared shitless of him.”
“Believe me, I understand.” Ronin nuzzled the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Amery.”
When the car stopped, Ronin waited for the driver to open the door. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not like me to allow others to wait on me. But it’s different here. It’s an insult if I don’t allow these people to do their jobs.”
After they exited the car, Amery realized they were in an alley of a residential street. None of the houses, all crowded together, were higher than two stories. This seemed an odd place for a hotel.
Keeping hold of her hand, Ronin led them up a narrow stone walkway. At the front door he exposed a security box hidden in the siding and punched a code on the keypad. She heard the locks pop before he turned the handle and opened the door.
He issued instructions to the drivers before he looked at her. “I want to show you my favorite part of the house while they’re unloading the luggage.”
Ronin towed her through the back door onto a private patio.
Both sides were blocked off by wooden soundproofing barriers. Paper lanterns hung from the rafters. Two papa-san chairs sat alongside the walls, facing outward. At the bottom of the path a tree was in full bloom and just beyond it a slatted bench overlooked a grassy slope that led to a body of water. On the right side was a raised box, filled with sand and stones and camouflaged on the back side by flowering shrubs.
Immediately a sense of peace settled over her. She knew from her pre-trip research that private green spaces in the major cities in Japan were rare and treasured, so this was someplace special. It reminded her of Ronin’s rooftop Zen garden in Denver.
Ronin’s arms came around her. “What do you think?”
“It’s lovely. But we aren’t at a hotel, are we?”
“No. At one time this was a hotel but now it’s Grandfather’s Kyoto residence. It’s more economical to stay here than if we had to pay for a luxury hotel.”
“Fine, I’ll give you that. What else?”
“This place is centrally located, less hassle getting to the areas of Kyoto I want to show you. It also gives us the most privacy. Okada owns this entire complex so we don’t have to listen to screaming children and smell fish cooking through the walls like in other rentals. And this house is huge by Japanese standards. Since my mother stays here frequently, she’s decorated this western style.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning no futons, but permanent beds. Meaning a real dining room table, a decent kitchen and a private bathroom. Initially this property was ryokan, with a communal bathroom for all five apartments. Now each apartment has its own facilities.”
“I’m happy for that. Who else stays here?”
“The two units on either end are rented out to Okada employees who run the Kyoto office. The two units on each side of this one are for Okada business associates to stay if they’re involved in meetings. Or in years past when my grandfather traveled here, one of his mistresses stayed in one unit and his personal staff stayed in the other.”
“Mistresses? Plural?”
Ronin chuckled. “Just because he never married again didn’t mean he became a monk. A man of his means had his pick of the ladies.”
“Like grandfather, like grandson.”
“Maybe. Except I don’t need four women to keep me satisfied when I have you.”
“Did your grandfather have a thing for geishas?”
“No. Not all Japanese men do.” He paused. “Why? Would you like to go to a geisha house while we’re here?”
“Nope. Unless you want to?”
“There’s plenty for us to see and do without geishas or visiting a teahouse.”
“No tea or sushi while we’re in Japan? Man, you are a hardass.”
At that moment the sweetest scent she’d ever encountered eddied around them. “What kind of tree is that? The blooms smell heavenly.”
“It’s shidare-zakura. A weeping cherry tree.”
Amery spun around. “As in real cherry blossoms is what smells so good?”
“Yes.” Ronin caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. “Kyoto has the biggest cherry blossom festival in Japan. We’re at the tail end of it so I’m hoping that means it’ll be less crowded.”