Third Time's a Charm

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Sam grinned wider and winked at her before disappearing.

  “Did that do it?” William inquired, staring at where Sam had been. “Is he gone now?”

  “Viv, are you okay?” Lorna asked.

  Heather simply hugged her.

  “If this is what closure feels like it sucks ass,” Vivien muttered. She took a deep breath and tried to shake the feelings away.

  Heather let go of her. “William, can you grab the book and candles for us?”

  William nodded and seemed glad to have a task.

  “What can we do for you?” Lorna asked.

  “I need sugar and a stiff drink.” Vivien watched William blow out the candles and gather them so the wax didn’t spill over. “Who wants to go the Blues House Tavern with me? They have lava cake, cheese fries, and blueberry vodka with sugar rims.”

  “The dinner choice of champions,” Heather said. “If that’s what you want, then let’s do it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tipsy decisions weren’t always the most thought out. Vivien guessed that most people would say they led to regrets. However, in Vivien’s experience, they often led to an entertaining story she told later with pride. Life was to be lived and enjoyed. Mistakes were to be learned from and sometimes laughed at. In every aspect of her existence, she had lived life to the fullest, except for one.

  Love.

  When it came to love, she’d bottled that feeling and locked it away with the pain of losing Sam. He became the excuse that kept her from feeling deeply for another man. He became the shield over her heart. He became the catalyst to live fully, without loving fully, without risking herself or her heart.

  It wasn’t closure she’d found in saying goodbye to Sam, not like she thought. There wasn’t some giant weight that lifted from her heart. Her love did not lessen. However, in telling him she had to move on, she was finally able to see the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Heather was right. Perhaps a person got more than one true love in life. One feeling did not negate another.

  Vivien knew walking up to Troy’s front door and knocking might be a mistake, one she couldn’t take back later, but still she found herself standing on his doorstep. She didn’t know if Troy was some future great love, but there was no denying her attraction to him. Plus, she trusted Heather’s and Lorna’s assessment of the situation.

  Vivien lifted her hand, only to let it drop without knocking. This wasn’t a booty call type situation. Troy wasn’t a one-night-stand guy. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name.

  Vivien turned to go, stopped mid-step, and turned back to the house. She again lifted her hand and hesitated.

  “Thank you for saving me from the water last night. Want to go make out?” she said under her breath to the door. “And I sound lame.”

  Vivien scrunched up her nose, dropped her hand, and started to leave. This time she made it two steps before turning back around.

  She didn’t bother lifting her hand as she said to the door, “Hi, Troy. I’m not really good at this dating thing. I mean, I’m good. I’m really good at what you do when you’re,” she frowned and mumbled, “dating.”

  She bit her lip and scrunched up her face. Why was this so difficult? She talked to men all the time. Flirting wasn’t hard. Hell, half the time all she had to do was smile.

  “I like you. I know I sound like I’m all over the place when we talk. You found me walking into the ocean. And the truth is…”

  The truth? She couldn’t tell him she was following her dead husband into the afterlife.

  “The truth is I like you.” Vivien sighed and lifted her hand to knock.

  “I like you too.”

  Vivien gasped as she spun to the side. Troy came from around the corner of the house.

  “Though, I’m totally cool if you want to go with option number one and make out with me,” he added with a grin.

  “You heard all that.” Vivien glanced toward her home.

  Troy chuckled. “Yeah, I heard all that. I was going to interrupt sooner, but you looked deep in thought.”

  If she ran, she could be through her front door within a few seconds. How often did people need to see their neighbors anyway?

  “If it helps, I’m glad I did. You aren’t exactly the easiest woman to read,” he said. “I thought maybe my signals were off.”

  “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.” Vivien laughed. “Normally they tell me I talk too much and need to keep things to myself.”

  “I don’t know who they are, but I would venture to guess they aren’t worth listening to.” He walked around to the front step of his home. “Can I assume you’d like to come inside?”

  Vivien again glanced at her house. She saw the curtain move and realized her friends were peeking at her from the window.

  “Yeah, they’ve been watching us.” Troy waved toward Lorna and Heather. The curtain dropped.

  “Were you at the beach doing environmental research?” she asked, trying to make the conversation closer to normal.

  “Yeah, that. I have a confession to make.” Troy paused before going to open the door. “When we met you were carrying up a bunch of empty beer bottles that you’d gathered on the beach. I was making a joke about writing a book on the anthropological study of modern beach culture and its impact on the environment. I thought I was clever, and I was trying to impress you. Then the next time you asked about it, and I realized you thought I was serious, I wasn’t sure how to rewind it.”

  “So you’re not writing an anthropological study of modern beach culture and its impact on the environment?” she asked.

  He shook his head in denial. “Not exactly.”

  “Do you even teach college?” Vivien arched a brow and studied him. She didn’t get a lying vibe off him. Were her psychic senses that far off? And was this how non-psychic people felt when they interacted with each other? All this uncertainty?

  “Yes. I teach college classes.”

  “Then is there a reason you don’t own a car? I had assumed the reason was you were into the environment.”

  “I never needed one. I always lived in places with public transportation. Or I bike.”

  “What are you doing here if not writing about tourist impact on the beach?”

  “I needed a change,” he said. “So I’m piloting a program to move more classes online, writing the lessons, modifying the in-class curriculum to work for distance learning, deciding what needs to be in a video format instead of written. If it works, and it should, I’ll be able to work from anywhere.”

  “So you’re what? A techie?”

  “Somewhat.” Troy smiled.

  If this were anyone else, she would have been able to sense all of that. With Troy there was an air of mystery. She picked up psychic whispers about him—he was a decent guy, he was attracted to her, he would want commitment over a one-night stand—but that was all.

  “Where are you from?” she asked, testing her senses. Maybe somewhere north?

  “Colorado, originally,” he answered.

  “And not originally?”

  “I’ve lived in Oregon, California, Nebraska, here.”

  Oregon was in the northern United States. Not the north she’d been thinking about when the word popped in her head, but north. “And you teach what? Proust?”

  Troy moved past her and finally opened the door. He’d left it unlocked so didn’t need a key.

  “Yes, a few times, but mostly I teach core curriculum classes.” He gestured for her to go inside. “Did this just turn into a job interview?”

  “Interrogation,” Vivien retorted as she moved past him to go inside.

  She’d seen the home when it had been inhabited by past renters. Troy’s decorating choices were non-existent. Just beyond the entryway, he had textbooks piled on the floor next to the couch, flat-screen television on a stand, and a charging laptop on the coffee table next to a remote. It appeared as if he worked in the living room.

  Cardboard moving boxes w
ere stacked neatly in a corner. Someone had written on them in permanent marker, “kitchen,” “clothes,” “novels.”

  “An interrogation, eh?” He laughed. “Carry on, then, detective. I promise I’m not a criminal. I even paid off all my parking tickets.”

  “How many parking tickets?” Vivien queried.

  “Two in the last five years. The meter ran out,” he said. “I have no excuse. I lost track of time and forgot to check it.”

  “But you don’t have a car.”

  “I used to. I sold it.”

  “Girlfriends?”

  “Yes, I’ve had girlfriends. No, I do not currently have one.”

  “Wife?”

  “An ex-wife.”

  “Children?”

  “My son is in Colorado, getting his undergraduate degree in park administration. He’s very outdoorsy. He wants to be a park ranger. His mother and I are very proud of him.”

  “So one child?”

  “Yes, one.”

  “And how fresh is the divorce?”

  “Not so fresh. We had joint custody for most of my son’s life. We get along fine now. We never really fought, but we had our moments of tension.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and she had the impression he would grow weary of her questioning very soon. “What is it you’re trying to figure out?”

  Vivien hesitated, not sure how to answer.

  “I answered your questions. Answer mine,” he said.

  “Widowed once. We were young. Cancer. Divorced once. We were stupid, and it wasn’t love. No children. I like kids, but motherhood wasn’t in my tarot cards.” She realized the door was still open behind her, and she leaned to push it closed.

  “That wasn’t my question,” he said. “What is it you’re trying to figure out?”

  “I’m trying to figure out what I think about this.” She gestured her hand back and forth between them.

  “Ah.” Troy nodded. “I think I understand.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. You’re waiting for a feeling,” he answered.

  “Yes.” Vivien nodded.

  “Like the woman in the elevator. You knew that man would ask her to share a ride with him. You had a feeling about it.”

  She nodded again.

  “And that you and your friends were doing spell casting in your living room.” He laughed at her stunned expression. “The whole book-candle-set-up kind of gave it away. Plus I walked past the Warrick Theater after you told me about it and read the plaque out front. Your friend’s grandmother was a medium. It didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

  “You…” She stepped closer to him, studying him as she tried to discern if he were making fun of her. “You believe me?”

  “That you’re intuitive? Yes.” Troy nodded. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

  Vivien waited for more of a reaction.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He gave her a quizzical smile. “I’m not intuitive. You will have to tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “My ancestors worked for carnivals, telling fortunes, reading tarot cards, divining the future. The females in my family all had a gift.” Vivien paused and concentrated on him, trying to find the psychic threads that would connect them, but they seemed blocked when it came to Troy. If she couldn’t see the threads, she couldn’t listen to his secrets. “It is the same gift I have. My grandmother taught me how to see what is not readily known.”

  Troy nodded. “Cool.”

  “I’m telling you I’m psychic,” Vivien clarified. “That’s how I could tell what would happen after that woman left the elevator.”

  “Okay.”

  “Cool? Okay? That’s it?” She moved closer.

  Why couldn’t she read him?

  “I won’t pretend to know how you do it. Maybe you automatically read micro-expressions. Maybe a part of your brain is overdeveloped. Maybe you have magic powers. I don’t know, so I can’t judge. Until you prove you can’t be trusted, I see no reason not to trust what you tell me.”

  “You’re not a very skeptical person, are you?” This was driving her to distraction. She should pick up more from him than she was.

  “Can’t you tell what I am feeling?” he asked.

  “That’s just it. No. Not really. Not clearly.” She lifted her hands to cup his cheeks and stared into his dark eyes. Her fingertips brushed over the hints of gray at his temples.

  He didn’t stop her from touching him. “No, I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. You telling me that you are intuitive and—”

  “Psychic,” she inserted. “Clairsentient and claircognizant, to be exact.”

  “Psychic,” he corrected. “You telling me that you are psychic doesn’t harm me in any way. So I feel no reason to be distrustful. Though, if you’re going to charge me for a reading, I have to tell you, I’m not in the market.”

  “I don’t do that,” Vivien said.

  “I was teasing,” he whispered. “I really do have to get better with my jokes. I promise, normally I am much funnier.”

  Vivien wasn’t a stranger to simple animalistic attraction, but when she stood close to Troy, she felt it vibrating through her core. It wasn’t just the stirring desire in her hips, or the fluttering in her stomach, or the ache of her lips and breasts. Sure, all that happened, but she felt it in her toes as they curled in her shoes. It was the nape of her neck longing to be touched. It was her ear wanting to hear his breath whispering past it.

  She might not be able to read him like she could others, but she felt him deeply.

  “Is it clearer now?” His eyes dipped to her mouth before darting back up to meet her gaze.

  “No.” Vivien didn’t need her psychic abilities to know that she wanted to kiss him. In some ways, not being able to predict what he was about to do and say added an element of fun to the encounter.

  He leaned closer. Her hands slid from his cheeks to his chest. “How about now?”

  Vivien’s lips parted, but only a soft breath came out as she shook her head in denial.

  A hand touched her cheek as he ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “Surely it is clearer now?”

  Her heartbeat quickened. Here she was, a woman in her forties feeling like she was some foolish teenager about to have her first kiss. In many ways it was ridiculous, and yet here she was, both nervous and excited at the same time.

  Troy leaned closer. His lips brushed hers in a soft kiss. She felt him try to pull back but followed him to deepen the contact. Their lips moved in unison only to part and then rejoin as if they each tested the other’s resolve.

  Vivien leaned into him. She let her hands explore his shoulders and arms and up to his neck. When he touched her, she didn’t know where his hands would roam. They lightly trailed down her sides to rest on her hips.

  “How about now?” he asked.

  “I think I’m getting a sharper picture,” she answered. “A tour of your house might help?”

  “You want to see my…” He glanced around the room.

  “Bedroom,” she clarified.

  “Oh, right.” He took her hand and led her down a hall to an opened door. The bed was small compared to hers, and paperback novels were stacked inside the headboard shelves. A magazine rested on the unmade bedspread.

  Troy let go of her hand and swept the magazine onto the floor. He pulled on the covers but stopped when she touched his shoulder.

  “We’re only going to mess it up,” she said.

  Vivien liked that this was not the room of a man who expected female company. Though messy, it was not dirty. She appreciated that as well.

  She reached for the buttons on her shirt, unfastening them as he watched. The blouse slipped off her arms. He eagerly pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

  Vivien kicked off her shoes and pushed her pants from her hips. When she stood before him in a pink lace bra and panties, she paused as he looked at her.

  “I, ah…” He appeared at a l
oss for words. “Oh, crap, hold on.”

  Vivien inhaled sharply in surprise as he rushed from the room. She stood, stunned, as the sounds of his footsteps ran away from her.

  “Troy?” she called after him, confused.

  Well, she hadn’t seen that one coming. She reached for her shirt. A loud bang sounded from somewhere in the house, and she started to thread her arm through the sleeve.

  Footsteps sounded again, and Troy appeared in the doorway. He held up a condom packet. “Found one.”

  Vivien let he sleeve fall from her wrist. Troy tossed the condom on the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. As he stripped from his clothing, she crawled onto the bed. When she again looked at him, the need he felt for her was undeniable. She tugged a bra strap off her shoulder to free a breast.

  Troy crawled over her, kissing his way along her leg, up her thigh, pausing near her hip, and then venturing up the valley of her breasts.

  Vivien lifted her hips and pushed the panties down her legs. They worked in tandem to strip her of the last pieces of clothing. The desire ran deep, and she eagerly parted her legs for him.

  Troy kissed her as he put the condom on. The first cool brush of latex along her thigh soon warmed.

  Vivien had always been a woman who knew what she wanted. She pushed Troy onto his back, letting her thighs straddle him. She worked her hips until his body was in line to enter hers.

  He let her have complete control as she lowered herself onto him. His moans revealed how much he enjoyed the rhythm she set. The feelings she had around him simmered to the surface until each brush of skin moved them closer to the brink.

  When her release came, it was almost a surprise. It shook her deeply as she trembled and jerked. Troy groaned, gripping her hips tight as he too met his climax.

  Vivien leaned over, breathing hard as the pleasure rolled through her entire body.

  “Oh, wow,” Troy mumbled as if stunned by what had transpired between them. “I mean, like, wow.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She moved to lie next to him on the bed. As she settled onto her back, she turned her head to look at him.