Read Online (Blue Notes 2)The Melody Thief by Shira Anthony - Free Book Online
Authors: Shira Anthony
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spent alone in his own bed. He felt only slightly guilty to find himself hoping the next time he saw Antonio, Massimo might be spending the night with his mother.
If the guy’s even remotely interested. The way things were going, he figured he’d have better luck at a monastery.
“ J USTIN?” Cary sat on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, cell phone against his ear.
“Cary? Is that you?”
“Yep.”
“It’s been three weeks since you called. I left several messages on your cell, but you never called me back. Damn, you had me worried. I was just about to call Roberta and check on you.” Cary heard the concern in his brother’s voice, even with the lousy connection, and he ignored the spasm of guilt in his gut.
He’s right. You should have called him. Justin worried about him. He always had.
“Sorry. It’s been a rough few weeks.”
“What happened?”
“Got mugged,” Cary explained. “Broke my wrist and—”
“Your wrist? Oh crap, Cary. Is it going to be okay? I mean, are you going to be able to play again?”
“Yeah. Doctor says I’ll be fine. Maybe a little physical therapy, but I should be back to work in another month or so.”
“Shit, Cary. That was a close call.”
“I’m fine. Really. I’m a big boy now, remember?”
There was a hissing sound through the phone, and Cary pictured his brother releasing air from between his lips like a steam pipe. “Right. Tell me it wasn’t two in the morning when you got mugged, and maybe I’ll buy that.”
“It wasn’t two in the morning,” Cary said with a laugh. “It was three. But really, bro, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Cary knew Justin was unconvinced, and he made a point of changing the subject. “So how are Vicki and the kids?”
“Great. Vick got a raise. Clayton, Caleb, and Jackson are doing great. Clay’s playing Little League ball this year, and Caleb will probably go out for the team next year. Jackie’s watching and waiting. It’s hard, being four and watching your big brothers do things you’d like to do.”
Cary’s thoughts wandered to Massi and the circus. Which, of course, made him think of Antonio and the near-kiss of three hours before. He fought his body’s response. “Glad to hear it. Send me some photos when you have a chance. I’m sure I’ll barely recognize them now.”
Justin chuckled. “No joke. At this rate, Clay’s going to be taller than both of us.”
“Call you next weekend?”
“You damn well better,” Justin warned, “or I will call Roberta.”
“I will. Promise.”
“All right. You coming for Christmas?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
“The boys’d be happy to see their uncle. I’d like to see you too. I miss you.”
Cary’s jaw tightened. He’d been avoiding St. Louis like the plague since his mother died. The few trips he had made in the past five years had been more difficult than he had expected—it didn’t matter that his mother had been dead nearly ten years now. The memories were still raw, painful. “I’ll take a look at the flights and check my schedule,” he said. He knew he’d do neither.
“That’d be great.”
“Talk to you later, Justin.”
“Take care of yourself, Cary. Love you.”
“Thanks.” Cary tapped the phone and laid it on the table, leaning back against the cushions and closing his eyes. Justin had been more of a father to him than an older brother, and Cary adored him. Why was it so hard for him to say the words?
You really should visit before the boys are in college. He resolved to have his US agent book him a gig in St. Louis. The thought made him uneasy, and he tried to ignore the surge of adrenaline that accompanied the possibility of a visit back to his old home, with little success.
Justin had always been the grown-up and Cary the little kid. Necessity, maybe, given that their only parent had been so focused on Cary that Justin had been forced to grow up faster.
Funny , Cary
If the guy’s even remotely interested. The way things were going, he figured he’d have better luck at a monastery.
“ J USTIN?” Cary sat on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, cell phone against his ear.
“Cary? Is that you?”
“Yep.”
“It’s been three weeks since you called. I left several messages on your cell, but you never called me back. Damn, you had me worried. I was just about to call Roberta and check on you.” Cary heard the concern in his brother’s voice, even with the lousy connection, and he ignored the spasm of guilt in his gut.
He’s right. You should have called him. Justin worried about him. He always had.
“Sorry. It’s been a rough few weeks.”
“What happened?”
“Got mugged,” Cary explained. “Broke my wrist and—”
“Your wrist? Oh crap, Cary. Is it going to be okay? I mean, are you going to be able to play again?”
“Yeah. Doctor says I’ll be fine. Maybe a little physical therapy, but I should be back to work in another month or so.”
“Shit, Cary. That was a close call.”
“I’m fine. Really. I’m a big boy now, remember?”
There was a hissing sound through the phone, and Cary pictured his brother releasing air from between his lips like a steam pipe. “Right. Tell me it wasn’t two in the morning when you got mugged, and maybe I’ll buy that.”
“It wasn’t two in the morning,” Cary said with a laugh. “It was three. But really, bro, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Cary knew Justin was unconvinced, and he made a point of changing the subject. “So how are Vicki and the kids?”
“Great. Vick got a raise. Clayton, Caleb, and Jackson are doing great. Clay’s playing Little League ball this year, and Caleb will probably go out for the team next year. Jackie’s watching and waiting. It’s hard, being four and watching your big brothers do things you’d like to do.”
Cary’s thoughts wandered to Massi and the circus. Which, of course, made him think of Antonio and the near-kiss of three hours before. He fought his body’s response. “Glad to hear it. Send me some photos when you have a chance. I’m sure I’ll barely recognize them now.”
Justin chuckled. “No joke. At this rate, Clay’s going to be taller than both of us.”
“Call you next weekend?”
“You damn well better,” Justin warned, “or I will call Roberta.”
“I will. Promise.”
“All right. You coming for Christmas?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
“The boys’d be happy to see their uncle. I’d like to see you too. I miss you.”
Cary’s jaw tightened. He’d been avoiding St. Louis like the plague since his mother died. The few trips he had made in the past five years had been more difficult than he had expected—it didn’t matter that his mother had been dead nearly ten years now. The memories were still raw, painful. “I’ll take a look at the flights and check my schedule,” he said. He knew he’d do neither.
“That’d be great.”
“Talk to you later, Justin.”
“Take care of yourself, Cary. Love you.”
“Thanks.” Cary tapped the phone and laid it on the table, leaning back against the cushions and closing his eyes. Justin had been more of a father to him than an older brother, and Cary adored him. Why was it so hard for him to say the words?
You really should visit before the boys are in college. He resolved to have his US agent book him a gig in St. Louis. The thought made him uneasy, and he tried to ignore the surge of adrenaline that accompanied the possibility of a visit back to his old home, with little success.
Justin had always been the grown-up and Cary the little kid. Necessity, maybe, given that their only parent had been so focused on Cary that Justin had been forced to grow up faster.
Funny , Cary
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