His Cocky Cellist Read online Cole McCade (Undue Arrogance #2)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Undue Arrogance Series by Cole McCade
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
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Then he was dropping the phone, yanking his laces together, before standing and shoving his phone in his pocket while Amani watched with wide eyes.

“Is everything all right?”

Vic jerked as if just remembering he was there, then plastered on a forced, but not unkind smile, his eyes a little too wide, stark with worry. “I’m sorry. I have to go,” he said, leaning over to grab his coat from where it was crumpled on the other sofa. “And I can’t wait to ask for permission.”

“No, that—that sounds serious, of course you should…Vic?”

He broke off as Vic leaned in, tangling his fingers in Amani’s hair, bending over him and pressing his lips to his brow. He just…stayed there like that for several precious moments, melting his warmth into Amani’s skin, soothing the bite of worry that had started to creep up, before he pulled back with a gentler smile.

“Hey. Don’t worry.” He traced his thumb along the edge of Amani’s eye softly, then drew back, pulling on his coat. “I’ll see you tonight. Make yourself more tea if you’d like. You can stay as long as you want.”

Then he was gone, a jingle of keys and the rush of the elevator doors and a soft chime.

Then nothing, and Amani was alone.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

VIC HAD NEVER MADE THE drive to North Hills so fast in his life.

He was lucky he didn’t get pulled over, as he sped down I-495, cutting the Benz in and out of traffic and grateful it was early enough that he was only coming up against a small wave of commuters coming in to New York from the suburbs. He kept an eye out for red and blue flashers, then pressed down harder on the gas, taking the turn off for the village sharply. He should be more careful, but when Julie’s number had popped up and she’d gasped Vic? Vic, I can’t find Siorse, she’s not in the house, I can’t…

He’d stopped thinking about himself at all.

He’d felt bad ducking out on Amani like that, but he’d make it up to him later. For now, he tore down the tree-lined suburban street, sun just beginning to dapple the meticulously maintained blacktop as dawn crept over the sky, and slammed to a halt outside Julie’s sprawling brick colonial. She was spilling out onto the velvety green lawn before he’d even fully climbed out of the car, and as he stood she tumbled against him, clasping his hands desperately, her pretty face tear-streaked and her hair a crimson cloud all around her.

“Vic—Vic, I looked everywhere, I’ve been all over the yard, I woke up the neighbors—”

“Shhh.” He pulled her in close, hugging her fiercely, and closed his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. “I’ll help you look. We need to calm down and be systematic. Where has she been playing lately?”

Julie took a hiccupping breath and rubbed at her reddened nose, her eyes flicking back and forth as if searching through the flipped pages of a mental catalogue. “She hasn’t, not really…she’s…she’s staying inside and reading a lot, and she’s thrown a couple of tantrums when I was cleaning the house and then run off.”

“Any idea where?”

“No. She’s allowed out in the neighborhood with the other kids until sunset, but they usually stay around the block.”

“We’re trying to think of a quiet place where she could go to read and no one else could find her.”

“I don’t know,” Julie cried, tears welling again, and shook her head sharply. “I don’t know, I know all her friends’ parents, they always tell me when she’s there, someone’s almost always—” Her eyes widened. “Wait. She came home crying with a scraped knee last week. She’d fallen out of a tree.”

“Then that’s where we’ll probably find her.” Vic gave Julie a squeeze and a reassuring smile. “I’ll take the back yard, you take the front, and we’ll branch out from there.”

Julie nodded quickly, already skittering toward the small cluster of beeches on one corner of the lawn, tall and narrow but with enough branches and clinging yellow-orange leaves to hide an upset little girl. Vic skirted the side of the house, peering up into the spruces lining the hedge, but there was no way even someone as tiny as Siorse could have skittered up those tight-packed needles and branches.

The back yard was littered with crabapple and maple trees, left to go half-wild for summer shade, now turning orange and brown in the November cold. That cold scoured his throat as he called, “Siorse?” He’d tried to be calm for Julie, but his heart was hurting, his mouth sour. That same sour taste as when bad things happened when he was a child, but he had to hope nothing had happened to his little girl. “Siorse? It’s Vic. Peanut, come down for me, please. I know you’re here somewhere.”


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