Thom abandoned Thordin an hour later and headed up to the forge, his sketchbook tucked under one arm, whistling a tune that had been popular on the radio that summer. He figured that J.T. and Matt would have worn each other out at least a little.
Ribs can probably take a tap or two from Jay at this point. They’ve been feeling pretty good lately, and if he’s tired he’s likely not to hit as hard. Marin won’t start a shouting match because I’m bruised to hell.
He smiled wryly. At least I hope not.
There were half a dozen up on the hill now, watching J.T. and Matt square off. Thom tucked his sketchbook safely into the warm darkness of the forge before he circled around the pair, who’d stopped after the last hit. Tala, standing in as the referee, grinned at him as he approached.
“Going to relieve Matt so he can nurse his bruises?” she asked cheerfully.
“He’s been holding his own,” J.T. said, grinning. Thom spotted Carolyn and Pippa in the group of spectators and killed his own grin.
“I imagine he would. Good instincts.” Thom stretched little as he made his way over the patch of trampled snow where J.T. and Matt had clearly been sparring for a while now. “Really need a break, Matt?”
“I could probably use one,” the younger man admitted, offering his kendo stick to his brother-in-law. “Going to put on a show for us?”
Thom snorted. “A show, huh? Probably not, but maybe.” One corner of his mouth twitched upward toward a smile as he swung the bamboo weapon a little to get a feel for its weight and balance. J.T. had a tendency to add extra weight to his sticks and this one wasn’t any different.
He fell into a fighting stance and gave J.T. a wicked grin. “Well, then. Let’s get this party started.”
Men love beating the crap out of each other. LOL
Thanks for the new post.