Page 62 of Animal Instincts
Joss clenched his jaw so tight a spasm of pain pierced his brain. He drew in a breath, forcing the tension away.
“I appreciate it. More than appreciate. That was… Incredible? Amazing?” Joss huffed a small laugh. “Nothing sounds enough, somehow. What was it called?”
“It’s Sevilla, from the Suite Española, by Isaac Albéiz. It’s classical Spanish guitar.”
A deep flush flamed in Oliver’s cheeks. Joss licked his lips. If Oliver sang nearly as well as he played…
Why haven’t I ever heard you sing? Why haven’t you played for me before?
He wouldn’t tut, or moan, or disparage, or act bored. He wouldn’t be likeSpencer.Thank god he was never going to meet the fucker… Joss hated the man he didn’t know and never would, for being the reason Oliver had turned his back on his incredible talent.
“I want you to play, and I want to hear your voice. Always. Will you sing for me? Please?”
“I’m out of practise—”
“I don’t care.”
Oliver picked up the guitar once more and settled himself around it. In the tree, a blackbird perched on a branch, proclaiming his presence as he trilled his evening song.
“It appears I have a request.” Oliver nodded to the glossy feathered, yellow beaked bird.
Oliver’s voice, a little tremulous, a little unsure but rich as caramel, floated up into the sky gaining strength and confidence as he sung about a damaged bird learning how to fly once more. Joss blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. Damaged but mending, like Oliver himself. The song drifted to a close; high in the tree, the blackbird still sang.
“That was incredible. Whatever you do, don’t ever let those guitars — or your voice — lay silent and gather dust again. Promise me.”
“If that’s an order, who am I to disobey? And talking of orders, come on, because we’ve got pie night waiting.”
THIRTY-FOUR
“Why don’t you give our new spring medley pie a go? It’s pagan.”
“No, Nan. Vegan, not pagan.” Ryan rolled his eyes as he threw a glance at his nan. “I reckon it’s all those weird colours you let Doreen use on your hair; they’re seeping into your brain.”
“That’s enough from you, my lad. You’re not too old that I couldn’t put you across my knee and give you a good spanking.” Eva patted her hair — pea green, this week — before moving off along the bar to serve a fresh wave of customers.
“Ohh, kinky.” Joss laughed. “Didn’t know you and your nan—”
“Eww, leave it alone will you.” Ryan shuddered. “And will you please try and do something, anything, to stop your gran from experimenting on my nan.”
“Nothing to do with me.” Joss tried his best not to smirk, he really did…
“So, do you and your boyfriend want thepagan…?”
“No. Two steak and stilton, chips and peas with both.”
“We’ve only got chips and peas.”
“Just as well it’s what we want then, isn’t it?”
Ryan snorted as he sent the order through to the kitchen. “Smart arse. Mind you, if you want to keep hold of your vet, I’d get in there quick. Van-sontlooks like he’s getting very comfortable.”
Joss followed the direction of Ryan’s gaze. Pie night, and a booked table very clearly for two, in the corner of the pub, yet the guy had nonetheless pulled up a spare chair and made it a table for three.
You can take a long walk off a short pier…
Ryan grinned as he handed over the drinks Joss had ordered before he turned away to deal with other customers.
At the table, Joss put the glasses down with more force than he’d intended, causing Vincent to look up, surprise written across his bony features.
