Sins of Long Ago

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Sins of Long Ago Page 2

by Naomi Bellina


  Gen sighed, stopped repotting the Christmas cactus, wiped her hands on her pants, and hustled around the counter. People didn’t normally rush into garden and gift shops demanding consultations. But Garden Magic wasn’t your average store.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “My name is Alicia. A friend recommended your services. I heard you have remedies for…things.”

  “You’re going to have to elaborate,” Genevieve said, groaning inwardly. Requests that involved hiding from family members generally didn’t bode well.

  “I want to get a facelift for Christmas, and my husband doesn’t want me to. He says I look fine, and he’d rather take a trip to Tahiti.”

  On cue, a man entered the shop. Nice-looking guy, dressed well, confident walk. His eyes lit up like fireworks when he saw Alicia. He kissed her on the lips then gave her a rose.

  “I saw this in the florist’s shop. Look at these absolutely perfect petals. Isn’t it beautiful? It reminds me of you.”

  The adoration in his eyes shone so strong, Gen turned away. Though she usually rejoiced in seeing couples in love, today this display of affection sent a pang of jealousy piercing her heart.

  “Why don’t you head to the restaurant, make sure they have our favorite table? I’ve got to talk to this lady for just a minute,” Alicia said.

  “I’ll meet you there. Don’t be long. We want to get home early and start the best part of your birthday celebration soon.” The seductive smile he gave her could have melted gold.

  The jealousy flared stronger as Gen watched him leave. The guy was clearly head over heels in love with his wife.

  “Look at these lines,” Alicia said, turning back to Genevieve and angling her face. “I’m far too young to have wrinkles like this.”

  Gen saw nothing but a flawless complexion.

  “What is it you need from me?” Gen asked. “I don’t do plastic surgery.”

  “I want something to make my husband change his mind. Something to convince him I need a little nip and tuck.”

  Seriously? You fool. If you could only see how lucky you are. Her husband adored her just the way she was.

  Gen bit back a sharp retort. She was far edgier than usual and had to watch her mouth. Bad idea to scare off paying customers with a bitchy attitude. The upcoming holidays tended to depress her, and though she usually handled the season fairly well, this year the absence of a man in her life cut especially hard.

  “Oh, hold on a second. My phone—I’ve got to get this.” Alicia put the instrument to her ear and click-clicked in her heels on the hardwood floors several feet away from the counter.

  Genevieve breathed a sigh of relief and sneaked a glance at her own phone which had chirped a moment before the woman walked into her shop.

  How is your day? Mine is one level below hell. I’m at funeral home. Rescue me. Want to meet for dinner at place we went before, 7:30?

  Vincent. The other reason for this crankier-than-usual feeling. Finding out werewolves lived nearby and that one of them was especially fine gave her happy goose bumps one minute and knots in her stomach the next. Happy because aside from being damn good-looking, Vincent had many other qualities that made him a potential long-term relationship guy. He had a wicked sense of humor, was brave, committed, passionate…all this she’d learned in the short time they’d known each other.

  The knots, they twisted her gut because she couldn’t have a long-term relationship without activating the consequences of her family curse.

  Genevieve tapped her phone. Heck with it. An evening out would be a nice way to start the weekend. It had been crazy-busy for several weeks as people prepared for the upcoming fall holidays, and she had spent most of her time at her shop. She needed a treat. This would be dinner and nothing more.

  Well, maybe a little more. Recalling the last time they were together, a shiver snaked its way up her spine. They’d met at a restaurant and had just been served drinks when Vincent’s phone sounded. He’d read the text and cursed.

  “I’ve got to go. Business. You’re welcome to stay and have dinner.”

  She’d declined and joined him in shooting down their drinks, watched him slap a twenty on the table, and then let him walk her to her car.

  “We’ll do this again,” he said, right before he kissed her.

  It was that soul-stirring kiss moving her fingers to type in a response now.

  Sounds good to me.

  Maybe she couldn’t have a serious relationship with Vincent, but she could have a bit of pleasure. It had been a long time since she’d indulged in romance, and she was overdue. Just fun and enjoyment. She didn’t have to let her heart get involved.

  Her grin broadened as the second part of his message came through.

  My treat. Dress casual.

  She guessed that for all his charm and sex appeal, Vincent didn’t have a lot of experience dating. Of course, he was the leader of a pack of werewolves, so who knew how they conducted their relationships? Now she had a chance to find out.

  If she could just get rid of this poor, frantic woman. Though Gen wanted to help her, what the woman asked for did not fall into Genevieve’s line of work. When some folks found out she practiced Wicca, they believed she could whip up a spell and give them whatever they wanted. Genevieve could work magic. Her own brand, though. Not what Alicia searched for.

  Gen walked to the front of the shop and flipped the sign to closed, then headed to the patio area and pulled a few items indoors, taking a moment to fill her lungs with the cool, crisp November air. Someone had a fire going, and the wood smoke smelled delightful. Less than a week until Thanksgiving, and soon after it would be Christmas. Back inside, the cinnamon-and-pine scent of beeswax candles hit her, a reminder it was time to place another order. So much to do.

  Gen turned off the back row of lights then waved at Alicia who finally seemed to notice the shop was closing. She concluded her conversation and stood at the counter as Gen pulled her purse from beneath and dug out her keys.

  “What you’re looking for, I can’t help you. The herbs I sell are for healing, not changing a person’s mind.”

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  Count your blessings and stop being so vain, Gen wanted to say, but looking into her customer’s eyes, she saw sadness and pain. Alicia had reached an age where women started to lose their youthful shine, and more than likely, in her circle of acquaintances, looks were everything. No matter how lovely she appeared, peer pressure demanded she look younger, more beautiful.

  “I have to leave now but give me a call tomorrow, and we’ll set up a time for a consultation. I have several facial products that do wonders for the skin,” Gen said.

  She made quite a few of her own creations, and while nothing would change anyone’s appearance overnight, her special face cream would bring a little glow and shine. She would add a dash of magic to give Alicia an extra sparkle. Maybe a touch of self-confidence would be enough to keep the woman away from the knife.

  Alicia smiled, and her shoulders dropped a notch. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

  As Gen locked the door behind the woman, she decided there was no reason to go home, rush around, and have to leave immediately. The clothes she had on would be fine for the casual restaurant, so she headed to her back office to place an order or two before dinner.

  Shoving the papers on her desk aside, she pulled the sticky note off her filing cabinet and went to her first supplier’s website. Her mind wouldn’t cooperate on this task, however, and kept returning to thoughts of Vincent and the kiss in the parking lot. The way his lips molded to hers and their bodies fit together just right. He’d pulled her close to him, one hand on the back of her head, the other around her waist. The force of his desire caught her unaware. Him too, judging by his soft grunt of surprise. Even through her coat she’d felt his erection, and she’d moaned involuntarily.

  Her reaction had spurred him on, and he’d deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. F
or those few moments, Gen blissfully lost herself in another world, a place with no concerns other than the heat rolling through her body. It had been a good, long while since she’d felt fire with a man and never with such intensity. They’d pulled away from each other and a spark of passion burned in his eyes also.

  “Damn, woman,” he’d said, and then the chime of his phone broke the spell. “I’ll see you again. Soon.”

  They’d both departed, and she’d spent a frustrated evening that her vibrator just didn’t ease. Their encounter happened two nights ago, and she was more than ready to see him, to create that magic again, no matter the consequences.

  Realizing she’d been staring at the same screen for ten minutes, she gave up on work, shut down her computer, and called her mother instead.

  “I know you think you’ve told me everything you know about the curse, but maybe there’s something else, some tiny bit of information you forgot about.” Gen paced the front room of her shop, straightening a few displays as she walked.

  “No, there’s nothing more to tell. It’s irreversible and can’t be broken. Two generations of women before you have attempted it. We’ve tried every spell in the book and made up a few ourselves. It’s simple. Just don’t fall in love. Do you want to end up like your Aunt Dottie? I told you her money ran out and she’s in a horrible nursing home now, didn’t I?”

  Gen gritted her teeth. “Yes, several times. Mom, maybe I can find something the others missed. Times have changed; there’s a lot more information out there now. You’ve tried to contact members of the other family, the Ashcrofts? The ones who started the curse?”

  “Yes, dear, we have. We’re not stupid. My sisters and I did, and my mother and all her family did also. No one can locate any women from the Ashcroft lineage.”

  “How about any of the men? Maybe they could help.”

  Her mother sighed. “Grandma found one man, but he refused to help her. Said he didn’t know anything about the curse. Honey, let it go. Love is not the most important thing in the world. We’ve done fine without it so far.”

  “Did you love my dad?”

  “Of course I did! He was a wonderful man. I knew he would be the perfect father of my child. I just wasn’t in love with him.”

  “And you never wanted him in my life after I was born?”

  “Gen, we’ve been over this. No, I did not. He didn’t even know I was pregnant when I left him. It would have ended anyway. He wasn’t the marrying type.”

  A lump formed in Genevieve’s throat as it always did when they discussed this subject. She knew her mother had done what she thought best, but the coldness of the decision cut like a knife in her heart. Cursed forever by the witch Belise Ashcroft, the Birch women could never experience true love. If they did fall in love, they would go insane.

  “You’ve met a man, haven’t you?” Marian asked.

  “Yes, I have.”

  “After all this time, now you want a steady guy? You’re doing so well with your business. Didn’t you tell me you’re working on a new line of hair conditioner? You’re such a success. Why go looking for trouble?”

  “I know, I am doing well, but sometimes I think how nice it would be to have a man in my life too.”

  “Oh, please. Think again. Look around you and listen to what other women say. Are they happy in their relationships?”

  “Yes, some of them are.”

  “But most aren’t.”

  “Not true. Sure, they sit around and bitch about their men, but that’s just what we do. There are good guys out there, husbands who love their women and their families.”

  “Those marriages are few and far between. Most men are selfish creatures who just want women to take care of them. Who needs the aggravation? Now you’re free to come and go as you please, to live life the way you want to. Do you want to turn into a servant, slaving away barefoot in the kitchen, a ball and chain on your ankle?”

  Gen laughed. “Mom, I’m barefoot most of the time anyway. I’d like to think if I picked the right man he would complement my life, not turn into a burden.”

  “Take my advice. Find someone nice-looking with a good background and have his baby. That will keep you busy enough. Hey, have you ever looked into one of those sperm banks? I hear you can find out all sorts of things about the donor and even pick exactly what traits you want. I’ll come with you. We can shop for sperm together. I’d love to be a grandma, whenever you’re ready.”

  “Don’t think so. This guy I met, Vincent, he’s different. He’s not selfish, he’s independent, and he’s strong, emotionally. He wouldn’t try to tell me what to do. He’s got enough going on with his own…group.”

  Genevieve started to tell her mother more about Vincent but stopped. How would Marian react to finding out the guy she lusted after turned into a hairy beast once in a while and was in charge of a whole group of the same? Would she be horrified her daughter wanted to date a werewolf? Shunned by her circle of friends? Kicked out of the garden club?

  “Strong, sure. Let me tell you about a man I dated once. He started out pretty tough, but one day, we were on vacation in Mexico and a bartender started hitting on me. Did I tell you this story?”

  More than once, but no use trying to stop Marian when she got on a roll. Genevieve headed to the back room to dig through her files. One of her older customers had requested a product she’d discontinued long ago, and though most of her records were now computerized, she still had a few notes tucked away in folders.

  Reaching onto a top shelf with the phone tucked into her ear, Gen tugged a notebook free from a pile of papers and as she did, several items came crashing down.

  “Everything okay there?” Marian asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just a minor avalanche. You’ll never guess what fell on me.”

  “The sky? I don’t know, sweetie, what fell on you?”

  “That book our family is featured in. Family Curses. Do you remember it?”

  “Oh yes, by the man with the odd name, Revel Sinsit.”

  “Yes, him. He wrote a whole chapter about us. I’m going to take a look through here. Maybe I’ll find something useful about the curse.”

  “Don’t bother. He didn’t write anything we don’t already know.”

  “Did you ever talk to him?”

  “No, he just spoke with your grandmother Beca. At the time, she only half believed in the curse. It started with her generation, and not too many women were affected yet. Shortly afterward she fell in love—and then, well, you know what happened. The book wasn’t even published until several years after she hanged herself. Revel must have followed other women in our family to get the information he found.”

  “Did you ever try to locate him?”

  “Of course. He disappeared off the face of the Earth. Probably dead by now. I told you, my sisters and I did everything we possibly could to figure out a way to get rid of the curse. I’m only trying to save you the time and trouble. Believe me, if there was anyone out there who could break it, we would have found them by now.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe the Birch women had become complacent, not wanting to bother with love in their lives. Gen talked for a few more minutes, then said goodbye. Packing the book into her bag, she headed out the door. The universe worked in odd ways, Gen knew. When a book came crashing down on your head, it was wise to pay attention. Time to take a look at the chapter on the Birch witches again.

  Chapter 2

  Gen looked around the restaurant. A good-sized crowd filled the room, making a pleasant background drone of conversation. The booths had high backs and the thick carpeting muted sound. Not a huge place, with prices high enough to keep out the families with hordes of children. She suspected one reason Vincent picked this location was so they could converse privately. He couldn’t talk about his alter ego in public, since most people didn’t know about werewolves, and the weres wanted to keep it that way.

  Her shoulders dropped down a notch and a little nervous tension receded
, aided by the glass of wine in front of her. It might be bad manners to start drinking before her date arrived, but she needed to unwind.

  After receiving a text from Vincent saying he’d be thirty minutes late, she’d headed home, then nearly drove herself into a state of panic, pulling clothes from her closet like a mad woman. Did she not own any clothing appropriate for a casual dinner with a man? This dress was too formal for where they were going. These pants made her butt look big. This shirt, cut too low and would give the wrong message.

  What was she, a teenager on a first date? In disgust she’d scattered the garments around her room, then called her friend Morgan, the town veterinarian and closet psychic, to ask her about dating werewolves. Since Morgan had started seeing Dylan, a were who’d recently given up his solitary ways to join the local pack, she might have a few words of advice. Her call went to voicemail. Finally, she put on the low-cut shirt. Hell with it. Sex could be the message tonight.

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Vincent’s voice, from behind her.

  Genevieve whirled around. “Where did you come from?”

  He smiled, a look that set her pulse racing and heat forming between her legs. “I took a look around the parking lot first and came in the side entrance. Sorry, occupational habit. Trade me seats—I don’t like my back to the door.”

  Genevieve looked at him for a moment. He really was one fine-looking man. His hair curled over his jacket collar just a little, and a five-o’clock shadow dusted his jaw. Did he ever let his facial hair grow out? She could picture him with a beard, maybe even a mustache. Could feel hair tickling her thighs as he…

  She shook her head slightly. Hottie or not, his tone of command didn’t work with this girl. No guy told her where to sit or gave her any other order. Her displeasure must have shown loud and clear on her face because his smile faded a notch.

  “Or we could both sit on this side together.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll move.” Relax. No reason to make a fuss. He was used to giving orders, used to sitting facing the door. Don’t make an issue out of nothing.

 

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