Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1

by Jasmine Haynes

  “Don’t apologize to me for what you feel.” He put his hand to her cheek. His palm was large, warm, and slightly rough. The man exuded compassion as easily as he did sensuality.

  With a last sweep of his finger across her cheek, he dropped his hand. “I rushed you,” he went on. “I should have taken you to dinner. Or at least that drink I promised you.” His gaze roamed her face like a physical touch. “I got carried away when I had you so close.”

  She’d never been the type to carry men away. Everything she’d felt in her office swept over her again, the desire, the need, the sense of how right it was. How right he was.

  “But I can’t,” she said, as if she’d voiced her thoughts. “I’m not ready for all this.”

  “You’re cautious. I usually am, too.” He gave her that comforting smile again. “I won’t pressure you.” He reached inside his shirt pocket. “I’ll give you my cell phone number.” He held her hand, laid a card in it. “It’s up to you. Call when you’re ready.” He gave a wry lift of his mouth. “Dinner. I promise. A date. No funny business. Even if you throw yourself at me.”

  She was in danger of throwing herself at him right this minute. But she was better off taking him up on what he offered. “Thank you.” She tipped her head. “What if I never call?”

  “I’ll leave you alone.” He waited two long beats of her heart. “But I want you to call.” The street light glimmered in his eyes. “We need to find out what this is between us.”

  We, us. Not just him alone. He knew she felt this strange compulsion, too, that she’d been watching him, thinking of him, fantasizing about him.

  “I have to go.” Before she decided to stay.

  “I’m going to kiss you goodnight.”

  He gave her warning but didn’t ask for permission. His mouth covered hers in a soul-stealing kiss that heated her straight down to her center. He possessed her in that moment. She wound her arms around his neck, his card still clutched in her fingers. She rose on her toes, plastering her body to his, needing to feel him everywhere.

  He eased away. “I don’t want to be accused of coercion so I’ll let you go now.”

  They’d gone beyond coercion. She might leave him tonight, but she knew shed call him. It was simply a matter of time. This must be how Toni felt when she fell headlong in lust with a man. Livie had never thought it could happen to her.

  He closed the car door on her once she was safely buckled in, then rounded the hood of her car. As she pulled away from the curb, he stood on the sidewalk. She had the feeling he would always be watching. It wasn’t a frightening thought at all.

  Livie didn’t notice the car parked down the street, or that someone sat inside, someone who watched them both.

  * * * * *

  Livie wasn’t any less confused when she arrived home. She definitely wanted him. She liked how sexy he made her feel. She craved being wanted by him. She just didn’t like how fast it had happened or how helpless she was to fight what she felt.

  After tossing her keys and purse on the hall table and kicking off her shoes, she went straight to the kitchen for a glass of wine. The tartness wet her dry throat.

  Standing in the kitchen, she could smell him on her, an indefinable male scent that clung tantalizingly to her body.

  She was padding barefoot into the living room, the carpet soft against her toes, when the front door opened.

  Toni stood framed in the hallway, mascara streaking her cheeks.

  Livie’s stomach turned over. “What’s wrong?”

  Toni slammed the door. Livie couldn’t help the wince on her neighbors’ behalf.

  “Reese won’t answer my messages.” Toni stalked into the living room and dramatically threw herself on the sofa.

  “Do you want some wine?” Livie offered.

  “Just a sip of yours.” Toni possessed the glass and gulped, taking too much to even enjoy the chardonnay.

  “You need to forget this guy.” She sat on the couch beside Toni. “He isn’t worth it. And you barely knew him.” Livie thought of Burn. She barely knew him, but she was hooked.

  Toni laid her head in Livie’s lap, hugging hard as if she were a small child. And she cried. “You just”—between sobs—“don’t understand.”

  Livie stroked her hair. How many times had she done this, comforted Toni, listened to her? She’d been mothering Toni long before their dad died and Mom had moved south. Livie understood everything all too well. Toni felt too deeply and wanted too much too fast. She drove men away. “I do understand,” she said soothingly. “But there’s nothing you can do.”

  “But he wanted me so much. I know he did.” Toni sniffed, hiccupped, let out another wrenching sob. “No man could make love to a woman the way he did without feeling something huge for her.”

  Oh God. Livie had been afraid Toni had lied. “You said you didn’t sleep with him.”

  Her sister cried and sniffed loudly. Livie handed her a tissue from the box she kept on the side table.

  Toni wiped her nose. “We didn’t sleep. We did other things.” She squeezed her eyes shut as if actually feeling those things all over again. “Oh God, Livie it was so good. The way he used his mouth on me.”

  Livie felt distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t that Toni was any more explicit than usual. She loved divulging in exquisite detail all the sexual acts she’d performed. Livie had heard it all, gotten used to it, especially since she could never stop Toni. But tonight, it reminded her of everything she’d done in her office. Of how much more she wanted to do. God, she and Toni were two peas in a pod.

  “Shh,” she said gently. “Don’t think about it anymore.”

  “But he was the best, Livie. No man has ever made me come like that. Six times in a row. It was like I just went from one orgasm to the next with hardly a break in between. And he loved making me come, like that was his only goal in life, to please me.”

  Livie closed her eyes. Now she understood Toni’s obsession. She was always worse when she’d slept with a man, as if she thought the physical act was some sort of spiritual union. She just didn’t get that men could turn it on and off with the snap of their fingers.

  Was that what would have happened if she’d gone into Burn’s house? In the morning, he’d have been sated, and she would no longer be necessary?

  Livie didn’t want to think about any of that. So she did what she always did, worked at picking up the pieces after another of Toni’s shattered relationships. “Men suck,” she said, “and not in a good way. Let’s trash him for an hour, and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

  Toni laughed, then hiccupped once more. Sitting up, she grabbed another tissue and dabbed her eyes and cheeks. “You make it sound so easy. You could always walk away from a guy so easily.”

  Livie felt a familiar ache in her stomach. It had never been easy. She’d had a man she didn’t want to walk away from. But Toni had needed her. She closed her eyes, thinking of that night five years ago. All Toni’s messages, the messages Livie had ignored until it was almost too late. She’d arrived home only just in time.

  Roger had wanted her to make a choice, her sister or him. In the end, she’d had to choose Toni. She had to take care of Toni. Roger hadn’t understood that it was her duty. It was her penance, too, for the things she’d done to Toni in the past, even if those things had been more circumstance than intention.

  Toni drained Livie’s wine, licked her lips. “That was good.” She held out the glass. “Can I have another?”

  “Sure.”

  Toni blew her nose. “Then we’ll do just like you said, sit here and trash him all night long.” She smiled a moment, then her face fell and more tears began to stream. “Except that I don’t think it’ll work this time. I can’t get him out of my head.”

  Livie retrieved another glass and the wine bottle from the kitchen. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday he’d worked in the yard, did some paperwork, took care of his online bankin
g and bills for the month. And thought about Livie. It might damn well kill him waiting for her to call. But he’d wait; he knew she’d call in the end. She’d been sucked into this thing between them as much as he had, but he also realized he’d pushed too hard for everything all at once. She needed some breathing room.

  His phone chirped that he had another text message, but his heart didn’t leap with expectation. He knew who it was. There’d been seven text messages from Antonia today and four voice mails. The woman wasn’t giving up, alternating between apologetic and vitriolic. He’d deleted them all. He did the same with this one. Livie was the only person he wanted to hear from.

  In order to take his mind off the need coursing through him, he dialed his brother.

  Wade answered on the first ring. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “The Gillespie project is moving to the next stage. I’ll be up there Wednesday after next. You’re still available to go to the plant?”

  “Sure thing.” Wade was a structural engineer and Bern’s first choice on any project he undertook. They worked well in tandem, each building on the other’s expertise. And while Bern would be paid for whatever plans he drew up, the contract wouldn’t be officially awarded until those plans were approved. His chances improved when he had his brother on his team.

  “You want to spend the night? With Amber away at college, Clare needs someone to cook for, and I’m sure Mom will come over.”

  Amber was an only child, and Wade’s wife, Clare, was feeling the empty-nest syndrome. Besides, despite his best intentions, it had been over two weeks since he’d been up to see his mom. She lived in a retirement community. It wasn’t the traditional old folks home with debilitated bodies filling beds. Mom had her own small apartment and still drove her own car. If or when the time came, the facility provided a higher level of care, from assisted living to twenty-four-hour nursing. His mother wasn’t ancient, but Dad had bought into the place on her behalf before he’d passed away. He’d wanted to make sure she’d lacked for nothing.

  “Sounds great,” Bern said. “I’ll come Tuesday night, and we’ll go to the plant in the morning.”

  He discussed the project specifics with his brother for another ten minutes, then segued into the other issue on his mind. “Wade, I’ve got a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you ever wonder if Jake’s right about the past life thing?”

  Wade was silent. Jake’s beliefs had caused something of a family ruckus. Suze was the only one who’d agreed with him, enough to make regression hypnosis part of her psychology practice, though she didn’t always add past life to that description. Their parents had been afraid he needed psychiatric help. Wade had been like Bern, understanding Jake’s need to believe in something but feeling he’d gone too far with it.

  “Where’s this coming from?” Wade finally asked.

  “I’m forty-three. Getting older makes you wonder if this is the only chance you’ll ever get.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but at the same time, the older you got, the more you started to rethink your beliefs.

  Wade was a couple of years younger. Maybe he hadn’t reached that point yet. “So you really think one day Dorie Hannigan will waltz back into Jake’s life?”

  “When you put it like that, it does sound crazy. I was meaning something a little more theoretical.” Except that there was nothing theoretical in the way he felt about Livie.

  “People shouldn’t come back. They should just stay dead,” Wade said, his voice harsher than moments before. “And if Jake hadn’t decided he’d find Dorie again in some reincarnated form, he wouldn’t be living over an old man’s garage, his life a mess.”

  “I wouldn’t call his life a mess.” Jake wasn’t hooked on drugs or living on the street. But it was true that he’d never moved on. Thirty years ago, Jake’s best friend was murdered. Dorie Hannigan had been eight years old. Her killer was never caught. It was possibly the biggest tragedy the town of Freedom had ever experienced, and it changed Jake’s life forever. Maybe it had changed them all in ways they didn’t even know.

  “It’s total bullshit,” Wade said sharply.

  His brother had been through his own tragedy. Clare’s sister had died in a tragic accident when they were in college. Her death had irrevocably altered their lives, too. With so much tragedy in his family history, Bern had been good at putting it out of his mind, but it struck him now.

  “Look,” Wade continued, “don’t bring this up when you visit. Mom hates it.”

  “Fine,” Bern said. Obviously Wade had become touchy on the subject. Bern was stuck between believers and nonbelievers. If he asked his sister Suze, she’d go wild imagining that he’d finally come around to Jake’s way of thinking, her way.

  He moved back to the less volatile topic. “I’ll keep in touch about the Gillespie meeting and let you know if there’s any change.”

  “Sounds good.”

  After ending the call, Bern turned out the desk light beside him and sat in the dark. Maybe he should have talked to Jake about this long ago. It might have helped his youngest brother. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like the family outcast. Not that any of them had ever treated him like that. But it was all in the perception.

  Bern’s perception had been changing since the day he first saw Livie. Even then, he’d known it wasn’t the first time. For a brief moment, he’d even known her name.

  * * * * *

  Toni left Livie sleeping soundly in the bedroom. It was past twelve on Saturday night, but Toni couldn’t sleep. She opened a bottle of Livie’s expensive wine. There’d been other labels in the cupboard, but Toni enjoyed downing the pricey stuff like it was water, especially because Livie had paid for it. Livie was a manager and made more money than Toni did as an office assistant. Ugh, a manager, all that responsibility, not to mention the overtime Livie didn’t get paid for. That wasn’t for Toni. If she was a little cash short once in a while, well, there was manager Livie to help out. Or their mom.

  In the living room, Toni pulled out her cell phone and dialed Reese. Every time she’d had a moment to herself today, she’d sent him a text or left him a message. He didn’t answer. He’d stopped taking her calls on Thursday. Toni narrowed her eyes. Now she knew why. Because of Livie. Her belly burned thinking about what she’d witnessed last night.

  His voice mail message kicked in. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, meekly. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not an asshole. Will you forgive me? Please let’s try again. I’ll be better, I promise.” She heaved a great sigh into the phone. “I miss you.”

  She laid the phone on the table and topped off her wineglass. He wouldn’t call back. He was probably deleting her messages without even listening to them. Asshole. And all because of Livie.

  That kiss. Remembering it, Toni boiled inside with...well, it was part rage, part revulsion, part desire. Reese had never kissed her like that. He hadn’t even tried to sleep with her. She’d lied to Livie about that, just to make her feel more guilty.

  She’d been waiting down the street from his house. He’d never invited her there, but she’d followed him home and knew where he lived. When he didn’t arrive directly after work, she’d feared he had a Friday night date, that he’d thrown her over for some blonde bimbo. Imagine her shock when Livie pulled up to the curb. Livie. How could she?

  Toni ground her teeth. She knew how. That was Livie’s style, stealing Toni’s boyfriends. She’d first done it when they were in high school. Walter Fenneman, the love of Toni’s life. Her whole future would have been different if Livie hadn’t made Walter fall in love with her. Of course Livie claimed she hadn’t done anything, that she wouldn’t even date Walter because he was with Toni. Right. Toni knew the truth: whatever she had, Livie wanted. She’d always made Toni’s boyfriends fall in love with her. She’d lie, cheat, or steal, then bat her innocent little eyes and say But oh, it wasn’t my fault. Sometimes she’d even done it without realizing. That’s the way she was. Toni had made her pay in
the end, even if it had taken years. The night she’d slashed her wrists had been the ultimate. There’d been lots of blood, but Toni knew she hadn’t hit anything major. Poor, poor Livie, she’d been frantic.

  Obviously that payback hadn’t been enough. Because Livie was doing it again. But how had she found Reese? It wasn’t possible. Toni hadn’t even used his real name, always calling him by his middle name. That had made her special, different from every other woman he’d known, but it also kept him safe from Livie. Yet she’d found out anyway. How? Toni sucked in a breath. Maybe Livie had been going through her text messages, spying on her.

  She grabbed the phone and deleted all her history. Then she couldn’t resist sending him another text message, short and sweet: I need you.

  Yeah, let him feel guilty about dumping her like yesterday’s garbage. He’d pay; they’d both pay.

  Toni smiled, letting her lip curl maliciously. So who should she tell first that she knew what they’d been up to? The answer was obvious: Livie. That would have far more impact. Oh, the delicious guilt.

  Of course, Toni was well aware that it could be coincidence, that Livie might not have known. After all, they worked in the same building. But that was the whole point, Livie never took responsibility. She didn’t even have to try to hurt Toni. No, she just did things without thinking. She marched through life without a thought for her very own sister, never paying attention, never caring.

  The fact was that Livie had everything and Toni had nothing.

  Sitting there sipping Livie’s costly chardonnay, Toni started to plan. She’d continue sending Reese sweet, loving messages, begging for forgiveness—gag—and she’d keep telling Livie how wonderful Reese was, how delicious he was in bed, how badly she needed him back, how she couldn’t go on without him. Then bam, she’d lay it on Livie, something dramatic like You stole my man. Yeah, she wanted Livie hooked on him before she realized she had to give him up.