“I’ll order a cab,” Lorna said, nodding at Vivien’s bloody finger. She pulled out her phone and began pushing buttons to bring up the app. “We need to get that wound cleaned.”
Vivien wasn’t worried, but she knew Lorna couldn’t turn off her mothering instincts. She lifted her arm as she held onto the papers. “Help me up?”
Lorna hooked Vivien under her arm and assisted her to her feet.
“I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m emotionally drained,” Vivien said. “And a little hungry.”
Heather reached to brush the sand from Vivien’s legs before standing and doing her own. “We should ask the driver to take us through a drive thru for dinner, but I’ll do the ordering. Otherwise Vivien will think we need fifty hamburgers for three people.”
Lorna picked up the glass bottle, wire, and piece of broken cork from the sand.
“We might need that many,” Vivien protested. “It depends on how well they reheat later.”
“Lorna, I’m really glad you’re her roommate,” Heather said. “Please make sure she starts eating things other than junk food.”
“Oh, pie,” Vivien inserted, ignoring Heather’s playful lecture about her eating habits. “Yes, please make sure I eat plenty of your homemade pies.”
“I’ll bake you as many as you want,” Lorna assured her with a laugh. She glanced at her phone app and pointed along the metal skeleton. “We need to go. The driver is on his way. He’ll meet us up there.”
Chapter Fifteen
Vivien watched Troy nod as William talked, enunciating his word with the metal spatula he wielded like a weapon over the barbeque grill. The men insisted on standing outside to guard over the burgers, even though it was chilly. She peeked at them through her bedroom window.
“Would you stop that?” Heather said from the doorway. “They’re getting along fine. Stop worrying.”
“Who said I was worried?” Vivien denied, not taking her eyes away.
“Only every sensation that Lorna and I pick up from you.”
As your friend, I think it’s my duty to tell you when you’re being creepy,” Heather said. “Viv, you’re being creepy. Drop the curtain and stop spying on Troy.”
Vivien watched a few seconds longer before finally letting go of the curtain.
“Good girl. Come on, we should at least pretend to help Lorna in the kitchen,” Heather said.
Vivien crossed her bedroom and joined Heather in the hallway. “You both really like him? You’re not just saying that?”
“For a psychic you’re not very intuitive about this.” Heather stopped walking and put her hand on Vivien’s arm. She let Vivien feel her emotions. “See. We really do like him. But what is most important is you really like him.”
“I do.” Vivien grinned. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I love him. I know it’s only been a few weeks since I said goodbye to Sam, but…”
“Honey, that goodbye was twenty years in the making,” Heather said. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say it’s about damned time.”
Vivien smiled as giddy excitement filled her.
“Have you told him how you feel yet?” Heather released her arm to stop the flow of emotional sharing.
“Not yet. I want to, but I don’t know what it is about him that makes me so tongue-tied.”
“You need to leap, Viv. If anything, we have all learned that life is too short to hold back.”
“I’m nervous, you know.” Vivien took a deep breath. It was difficult to explain. “With Troy, I can’t read what he’s feeling. I have no clue if he’ll say I love you back. I honestly don’t know how any of you do it.”
“Do what?” Lorna asked, poking her head out of the kitchen.
“Function without psychic abilities,” Heather said. “Vivien is feeling bad for those of us who can’t usually read minds.”
“I don’t want to know what people are thinking,” Lorna said. “If the dicky things people say online when they feel anonymous is any indication, I’m guessing it’s best if they keep their innermost thoughts hidden deep, deep inside themselves.”
Vivien chuckled. Her friend was not wrong.
“Are your psychic readings getting any easier to control?” Heather asked.
“My abilities are still growing—at least around everyone but Troy.” Vivien moved toward the kitchen. Lorna stepped back to let her in the doorway. “I think I’m starting to get a handle on the flow of information. And I have been seeing the future more, like clear pictures. It’s a little scary.”
“I don’t think I want to see the future,” Heather said.
Vivien grinned. “So, you’re saying if there was a certain sexy contractor in your future, you wouldn’t want to know about him?”
“Nice try,” Heather dismissed. She went to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of sweet tea. “I feel like the spirit world is calming down a little for me. The ghosts are still popping up, but they’re talking less. Or maybe I’m getting better at spotting them and not showing I see them.”
“It’s actually kind of fun not being able to automatically tell what Troy’s thinking all the time, or what kind of mood he’s in unless he says the words.”
“You need to tell him how you feel,” Heather said.
“What did I miss?” Lorna studied them. “Did Viv finally admit that she loves—?”
Lorna instantly stopped talking when the door opened. She pretended to busy herself arranging hamburger buns on a plate.
“William hunt meat,” William announced in a caveman’s voice, grunting a few times as he carried his tray of burgers.
“You are such a dork,” Vivien teased.
“Don’t hate on me because you’re jealous.” William paused to kiss Lorna before setting the food down on the counter. “Food for my lady.”
Heather set the pitcher next to the burgers and began pulling glasses out of the cupboard. She widened her eyes and nodded toward Troy. “Tell him.”
“Am I missing something,” he asked.
Vivien took his hand and led him to the living room. Bold patterns on her new couch matched the orange and red paintings she had hung. The room wasn’t finished, but she was putting her own stamp on it.
“Is everything all right?” Troy’s brow furrowed in concern.
“So here’s the thing.” Vivien took a deep breath.
“There’s a thing?”
“Yes. There’s a thing.” She nodded.
“Okay.”
“The thing is I tend to get locked in place. I can’t explain why, but it happens. With my first husband, I was locked in the feeling that I could never really give myself to someone else because I loved him so much and was sure I’d never find it again.”
Troy frowned and appeared to brace himself for where this conversation was going.
“Just listen.” Vivien tried to hurry, but she wasn’t used to explaining this part of herself. “With my second husband, I was locked in time. I didn’t redecorate because I was afraid if I changed anything, I’d forget he was a tool and make the same mistakes again out of loneliness.”
“Okay?” Troy appeared very confused. “So are you saying being with me is a mistake, and you can’t love me?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m saying I have a tendency to get locked, but I don’t want to do that with you. I’m saying, maybe third time’s a charm.”
He blinked in surprise as if not expecting the conversation to turn the way it did. “I’m sorry, what? Did you say…?”
“I love you,” she repeated. “And it’s driving me a little crazy because I can’t tell how you feel. So I need you to tell me.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” Troy asked, arching a brow. “I mean, it sounded like you were trying to. You said first husband, second husband, third time’s a charm.”
“No. I’m saying I love you.” Vivien gave him a light smack on the chest. “Do you love me?”
He smiled. “You know, you keep telling me about these psy
chic visions you have, but I’m beginning to doubt they exist.”
Vivien frowned.
“I swear I’m usually funny. You never get when I’m joking. Of course I believe in you. But how can you not know the answer to your question?” Troy cupped her cheek. “You have to know I’m crazy about you. It has to be pretty obvious.”
“I know he’s crazy about you, Viv,” William yelled from the kitchen, proving he’d been eavesdropping. “Not sure why, but he is. No accounting for taste, I guess—”
“William,” Heather scolded. The sound of a scuffle followed.
“Ow, what?” William demanded. “I’m helping.”
Vivien shook her head. “Sorry about them.”
“Don’t be. I like them.” Troy pulled her against him. “And I love you, Vivien Stone, and someday you’re going to propose to me for real.”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yep.” He nodded, leaning down to kiss her. Against her lips, he said, “You don’t have to be psychic to figure that one out.”
* * *
The End
* * *
The Magical Fun Continues!
Lorna’s Story:
Order of Magic Book 1: Second Chance Magic
* * *
Heather’s Story:
Order of Magic Book 3: The Fourth Power
The Fourth Power
Order of Magic Book 3
The Series Continues
Heather Harrison sees ghosts. It's not something she brags about. In fact, she wished she didn't. Communicating (or not communicating) with the dead only leads to heartache, and for her it led to a divorce. For the most part, she's happy being single. She's got a good business, close friends, and a slightly overprotective brother. What more does a forty-something woman need?
When her two best friends beg her for help in contacting loved ones, against her better judgment she can't say no to the séance. But some gateways shouldn't be opened, and some meddling spirits shouldn’t be stirred…like that of her Grandma who insists she's "found her a nice man".
The supernaturals have come out to play and it's up to this amateur medium to protect herself and her friends before the danger they summoned comes to bite them in the backside.
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The Fourth Power
Second Chance Magic
Did you miss Book One?
Secrets broke her heart... and have now come back from the grave to haunt her.
So far, Lorna Addams’ forties are not what she expected. After a very public embarrassment, she finds it difficult to trust her judgment when it comes to new friendships and dating. She might be willing to give love a second chance when she meets the attractive William Warrick, if only she could come to terms with what her husband did to her and leave it in the past.
How is a humiliated empty nest widow supposed to move on with her life? It’s not like she can develop a sixth sense, séance her ex back, force him to tell her why and give her closure. Or can she?
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Second Chance Magic
About Michelle M. Pillow
New York Times & USA TODAY
Bestselling Author
Michelle loves to travel and try new things, whether it's a paranormal investigation of an old Vaudeville Theatre or climbing Mayan temples in Belize. She believes life is an adventure fueled by copious amounts of coffee.
Newly relocated to the American South, Michelle is involved in various film and documentary projects with her talented director husband. She is mom to a fantastic artist. And she's managed by a dog and cat who make sure she's meeting her deadlines.
For the most part she can be found wearing pajama pants and working in her office. There may or may not be dancing. It’s all part of the creative process.
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Third Time's a Charm Page 16
