An Uncommon Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 1

by Serenity Woods

  Ash stood with hands on his hips and glared at the floor as he composed himself. He took several deep breaths and let them out slowly before eventually looking up at her. He sighed and shook his head. “She’ll be better off letting off some steam while she walks. If I go after her, it’ll only get worse.”

  “Ash, if you stay here, it’ll be like you’ve chosen me over her. That’s how she’ll see it, anyway.”

  “I know my own daughter.”

  Grace looked at the stubborn set of his jaw, seeing Jodi’s obstinacy reflected in her father. “I wasn’t questioning that.”

  They fell silent. She felt as if a gulf had opened up between them. I won’t have you talking to guests like that, he’d said. That’s all she was—a guest at his house. She’d been fooling herself. This was nothing more than fleeting entertainment for him.

  “There’s something she’s not telling me,” he said eventually. “This isn’t about you.”

  “I’m not so sure. I’ve been expecting this, Ash.”

  “Then that’s what you’re seeing,” he snapped. “I’m telling you, there’s something else going on. She can be a brat same as any other fourteen-year-old girl, but she wanted me to start dating again, and I know she likes you. What the hell’s wrong with her?”

  “Teenagers change their minds all the time—you know they’re not right in the head.” Grace herself was close to tears. “Ash, I think we need to talk about the fact that this isn’t going to work out. Clearly, Jodi’s going through a difficult time. I think we ought to stop seeing each other.”

  He went very still and stared at her. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do, actually. Jodi needs to be your first priority, and she obviously has issues with me.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not going to stop seeing you.”

  “It’s not up to you.” She was getting angry now. “I like you, Ash, and I’ve enjoyed our time together, but let’s face it, we’re not exactly a match made in heaven, are we?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He looked hurt. “I thought you enjoyed being with me.”

  “I do, but…it’s not as simple as that. What you said to me a few weeks ago in the auditorium, we’ve not talked about it, because I feel so awkward about it. We skirt around the topic of what you do because it makes me so uncomfortable, and I feel bad about that. You deserve someone who believes you wholeheartedly, not someone who’s secretly convinced you’re a fraud.”

  His eyes glinted steel. “Is that what you are, then? Convinced I’m a fraud?”

  Shit. This wasn’t going well. “You amazed me, Ash, and you opened my mind to all sorts of possibilities, but I can’t honestly stand here and say I believe you a hundred per cent. I don’t know how you’re able to do what you do, but I think even if we were together for a hundred years, you’d never be able to convince me completely. I’m not wired that way. I’m cynical and sceptical, and I’m always looking for the scientific explanation. And with you…there isn’t one.”

  He frowned. “I’m not asking you to believe me a hundred per cent. Healthy scepticism keeps me on my toes, keeps me grounded. I like how you challenge me.”

  “Ash…” She couldn’t stand it any longer. She was going to have to tell him what was really bothering her. She couldn’t keep it pressed down any longer. Like polystyrene in water, it kept rising to the surface. “Do you love me?”

  He stared at her. There was a long, uncomfortable silence, during which she went from embarrassed to angry to frustrated and finally back to embarrassed again.

  “I think it’s a bit too soon to be talking about love,” he said eventually.

  Ouch. “Not for me.” She took a deep breath. “I think I’m in love with you. I didn’t mean to fall for you, Ash—it was the last thing I wanted really. And I don’t think you’re ready to love another woman, not yet.” She held a hand up at his irritated look. “Before you say it, I know there’s no rush. But you’ve got to understand, I need to know it can happen. I’m not getting any younger—I’m twenty-nine, and eventually I want to get married and have a family. You already have a daughter, love. Do you really want to start all over again?”

  “I don’t know…maybe.”

  “Honey, your body language is screaming the exact opposite.” She pointed to his folded arms, his defensive pose. “It’s okay, it’s not a problem—I’m not forcing you to do anything. I just want you to know why I think it’s over between us.”

  “I don’t want it to be over. Why do women always have to push? Why is it always about forcing a guy to commit?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Now don’t start down that road. You know perfectly well that’s not what this is about.”

  “Do I? It seems exactly what this is about. And now you’re going to blackmail me by saying you’re not going to see me again until I say I love you.”

  She had a pain in her chest, as if something was squeezing her heart. “Don’t make this any harder, Ash.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Now he was angry. “I meet the first girl I’ve felt anything stronger than a passing affection for in five years, and she’s too scared to try to make a go of it with me unless I pop the question five weeks after I’ve met her.”

  Her cheeks grew warm. “That’s unfair. And I’m not scared.”

  “Yeah?” He glared at her. “You’re the most frightened woman I’ve ever met. You’re scared of commitment, because you think I’m going to be like your father and the idiots you hooked up with before, and up and leave you. You’re scared of your mother, so much so that you won’t stand up to her and tell her about your books. All you want is her approval. Well here’s news for you, sweetheart—you’re never going to get it. And you’re scared of the fact that I might actually not be a fake, because that would mean you’ll have to admit you’re wrong. There might actually be an afterlife, and that would mean that all this time you’ve ignored the possibility that your father might still be around you, and it just carves you up inside.”

  Tears coursed down her face. “Stop it.”

  He tipped his head. “You once said you liked me to say what I’m really thinking. I’m guessing if it’s anything to do with you personally, however, you have a different point of view?”

  She walked past him into the hall, shoved her feet in her shoes and picked up her jacket. At the door, she turned to face him. “Why don’t you sort out your own life before you start criticising mine?” And then she walked out, slamming the door behind her, just as his daughter had.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ash stared at the door. Both the women in his life had walked out and left him, and he didn’t know which one to go after.

  He went back into the living room, only to see she’d left her books and bag on the table. Sighing, he went through to the kitchen, poured himself a whisky and took it back into the living room, sitting heavily on the sofa.

  “Fantastic,” he said out loud, to nobody in particular. He took a swig of the whisky and leaned his head on the back of the sofa.

  How could he have screwed things up so totally?

  He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing, but it didn’t work. He was too agitated. His heart pounded, and his insides felt like a ball of knotted wool.

  Damn it—why did they both have to go and complicate matters? They’d all been ticking over quite smoothly. He’d really enjoyed the past few weeks, with Grace coming over every weekend and occasionally staying over when Jodi was away. It was the happiest he’d been since Angela had died.

  No, since before that, he reminded himself. He hadn’t been happy like this for a long while. Since before he and Angela had got divorced. The first few years of their marriage had been happy enough, but as soon as he’d started talking about giving up being a doctor, things had turned sour between them.

  It was his curse to fancy women who thought he was an idiot. He took a sip of his whisky and sighed. All those women in the audience at the Michael Fowler Centre, and he ha
ppened to fall in love with the one who didn’t believe in him.

  Hold on. Fall in love? He opened his eyes and sat up. Where had that come from? It was a figure of speech, surely. He hadn’t meant it.

  He thought of the way she soothed him and relaxed him, and how she’d held him the night after his shows, chasing away the demons.

  He thought about her sexy underwear, and how she always made him smile with her outspokenness.

  He thought of the hurt in her beautiful brown eyes when she’d told him she loved him, and he’d not told her back.

  “Shit.” He sat back with a thump.

  Unbidden, the words her father had said to him on the night he read for her filtered into his brain. Tell her, he’s the one. At the time, he wasn’t sure if it had been meant the way he’d interpreted it, but there had been no way he was going to give her that message, whatever the meaning behind it. As much as he believed in fate, he didn’t want to believe his future was set in stone. He wanted to be the one who decided his fate. And he didn’t need his deceased possible future father-in-law to try to talk him into getting serious, or to convince her they were destined to be together.

  And yet, he couldn’t escape the feeling that that’s exactly what they were. In spite of the fact that, like Angela, she was sceptical of his abilities, she’d still been open-minded and prepared to accept the possibility that he wasn’t a complete fraud, which was more than Angela ever had done.

  The phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. He leaned over to the table and picked up the receiver, hoping it was Grace. “Hello?”

  “It’s Liv.”

  “Hey, is Jodi with you?”

  “Yes.” Her tone immediately worried him. “Ash, what’s going on?”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “She’s distraught. She won’t stop sobbing, but she won’t tell me why.”

  He rubbed his forehead. “We had a row. She was rude to Grace and told her she wanted her to leave. And she flew off the handle when I told her she had to apologise. It’s just a hissy fit, Liv, let her get on with it.”

  “No, Ash, it’s more than that. I’ve seen her throw a tantie before, and it’s nothing like that.” Liv was speaking in a low voice, as if afraid that Jodi might overhear her. “She’s terrified. I don’t know of what—she won’t tell me. But she’s physically shaking, and…I don’t know. I think you should come around.”

  “Of course.” Ash stood and walked over to the table to pick up his car keys, glad he hadn’t had more than a mouthful of the whisky. “I’ll be right there. Don’t let her go, Liv.”

  “I won’t. Be quick.”

  When he got to Liv’s house, she was standing at the front door, waiting for him. “She’s in my bedroom,” Liv told him, her face stricken. “The boys are in the garden, but they know something’s wrong.”

  “Okay.” He stroked her arm and smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.” He wished he felt as sure as he sounded. He’d known for a while there was something wrong with Jodi. Well, at last it looked as if he was going to find out what it was.

  He followed Liv down the corridor to her bedroom. The door was shut but he could hear Jodi sobbing through it. Casting Liv a quick glance, he opened the door and went in.

  She sat on Liv’s king-size bed with her back against the headboard. She’d drawn her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Her forehead rested on her knees so he couldn’t see her face. But her body heaved with huge, wracking sobs.

  “Do you want me to stay or leave you alone?” Liv whispered.

  “Maybe give us a few minutes,” said Ash. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “Okay.” She went out and shut the door quietly behind her.

  Ash studied his daughter warily. He didn’t know how she was going to react if he sat with her. Would she be angry at him? Scream and throw things? Or just continue crying? He had to do something, though—she was going to make herself ill like this.

  He went over to the bed and sat in front of her. “Jodi?” He put a tentative hand on her arm. “It’s Dad. What’s the matter, love?”

  For a second, she didn’t move. Her sobs stopped and her whole body went rigid. He kept his hand on her arm, though, willing love and comfort to flow from himself to her.

  She lifted her head. Her cheeks were blotched, and her eyes were bloodshot and swollen. She met his gaze, and he saw that her eyes were filled with misery.

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Oh, Dad,” she said. And then she flung herself at him, threw her arms around his neck and started crying again.

  He felt a wave of relief that she’d turned to him rather than away from him, and he hugged her tightly, pulling her onto his lap as if she were eight years old again. “Ssh,” he murmured, stroking her back, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “I’m sorry,” she squeaked, her tears soaking his shirt.

  “It’s all right. It’s not the end of the world, honey, really.”

  “I was rude to Miss Fox…”

  “She’ll understand. It’s okay.”

  Jodi shook her head.

  He hugged her tighter. “Love, you’ve really got to talk to me. We can’t carry on like this. I know something’s bothering you. Is it really because I’ve started seeing Grace? Do you want me to stop?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Jodi remained silent for so long he was sure she wasn’t going to tell him. Then, finally, she spoke. “It’s Mum.”

  “What about her, love?”

  “I…I can hear her.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean? You keep thinking about things she said? When we used to live together?”

  She shook her head, her face still hidden against his chest. “No. I can hear her, Dad. Her spirit. I lied when I said I couldn’t do what you do. She talks to me, all the time. And I love her, I love her so much, but I want her to stop.” She burst into tears again.

  Ash murmured comforting words to her, but inside he’d gone completely numb with shock. Jodi was a medium? She could hear spirits, the same as he could?

  When her sobs finally started calming down a bit, he pulled back from her a little and lifted her chin. “Honey? Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you’ve finally admitted what the problem is. But we can’t leave it there. We absolutely need to talk about this.”

  She wiped her eyes, but she was so full of tears and snot it was like trying to soak up a spilled cup of water with a sodden cloth. He leaned across to Liv’s bedside table and retrieved the box of tissues, handing them to his daughter. He waited until she’d dried her face and blown her nose. Moving so his back was against the headboard, he pulled her with him, keeping her within the crook of his arm, but back slightly, so he could see her face.

  “How long have you been able to do this?”

  “A few years,” she admitted. “Since Mum died.”

  “Is it only Mum you hear?”

  She shook her head. “Sometimes there are other voices. But hers is the loudest.”

  He nodded. He held her hand and stroked it gently. “What does she say? Can you tell me?”

  She looked frustrated. “I can’t always make it out. She calls my name a lot. Sometimes I hear her say things like ‘Clean your teeth, Jodi’ when I’ve forgotten. It’s so loud and clear, it’s like she’s in the room. But most of the time it’s just, like, fragments, you know?” She took a deep breath. “Since you started seeing Miss Fox, though, I hear her all the time.” She met his gaze, lip trembling. “I don’t think she likes Miss Fox much. And…I feel guilty, Dad. I feel guilty because I like Miss Fox. I like her because she makes you happy. But I don’t want Mum to think I don’t love her anymore.” Fresh tears ran down her face.

  His heart twisted inside, and he felt a surge of love for his poor, mixed-up daughter. “She knows that, sweetheart. Wherever she is, one thing is certain—she knows you love her.”

  She put her
head in her hands. “I feel like I should be loyal to her. But I keep feeling so resentful. I know I look like her, and I know I remind you of her. And although I like Miss Fox, I feel jealous sometimes, because she makes you smile, but I only make you sad.” Her voice broke.

  “Oh God.” He felt a wave of guilt and pulled her into his arms again. “You don’t make me sad, darling. You only ever bring me joy. I feel sad because sometimes it seems we let you down. We broke up when you really needed us both, and I’ve never forgiven myself for that. And I feel guilty because I’ve never been able to contact her—the one thing I should have been able to do to help you cope with her death, and she just wouldn’t come through for me.”

  “Do you think she’s angry with us both?” Jodi looked puzzled. “Only I thought you once told me that when we cross over, we don’t take our problems with us.”

  “That’s true.” He kissed her head. “But we do retain our personalities. Your mother won’t be harbouring feelings of jealousy or anger. But she will still think she knows best for you, and for me, probably. The truth is, honey, it’s possible you’ve been misinterpreting what she’s been trying to communicate to you. If you’re scared of what’s been happening, you may have misunderstood that perhaps she’s trying to tell you it’s okay to move on. I’ve done thousands of readings for people whose partners have died and crossed over, and so many times they worry that their first partner is up in heaven somewhere, watching them and being angry with them because they’ve married again. But the truth is—as far as I can tell, anyway—things aren’t the same up there. If you get married twice, it’s not like when you get to heaven both partners are sitting there glaring at each other across the table. I don’t know how it works, but I don’t think there’s jealousy or animosity there.”

  “But if Mum’s not angry with you, why do you think you’ve never been able to contact her?”

  “Truthfully? I think I’ve been trying too hard. Maybe we both have, your mother and me. There have been times when I’ve been able to feel her presence. I know we split up and then got divorced, and at the time it was very difficult, but I’ve tried to explain to you before, I never stopped loving your mother, and I was devastated when she died. I just wasn’t in love with her anymore. Do you see the difference?”