“That’s an interesting ring.” Troy nodded toward her hand.
Vivien automatically looked down, even though she knew what the antique jewelry looked like. “Thanks. It’s one of three friendship rings.”
But it was more than that. The same night Vivien had found the jewelry hidden away in a storage box, Lorna and Heather had also discovered their rings. Heather had been home alone going through tax receipts, and Lorna had been in her apartment having a self-pity party (her words, not Vivien’s) and looking for her old wedding ring.
The second they’d put them on, magical things had started to happen. Vivien’s empathic abilities had amped up. Lorna developed the ability to heal herself and others—well, not heal so much as the ability to transfer illnesses and injuries from one person to another. Heather had always been able to see and hear ghosts, including Grandma Julia, and that hadn’t changed.
“Oh, like those novelty rings that fit together like a puzzle? I would have guessed it was antique,” he said.
She watched the rearview mirror as cars passed behind her, waiting for her turn to pull out.
“It is. From the early 1900s, I think. Julia Warrick, who commissioned the historic theater downtown, was the grandmother of my friend Heather. The rings belonged to her.” Vivien glanced at the jewelry, even now feeling a tingle of energy pulsing from it. “Do you have an interest in jewelry?”
“Not particularly.” He gave a small smile and laughed as he fastened his seat belt.
“Then what’s with all the ring questions?” Vivien took the first break she found in the parking lot traffic to muscle her way between a minivan and a sports car. One look at the latter and she knew the man who owned it was overcompensating for a lack of personality. It wasn’t a judgment about the car, which was sweet as (like the tour guide from her recent New Zealand trip would have said), but more an observation that proved her psychic abilities were in useless-information overdrive.
“I have an interest in you.” Troy again turned his attention to her.
So much for her psychic abilities. While they’d been focused on the douchebag in a sports car, she’d missed Troy’s oncoming flirting.
She glanced in his direction, pretending to concentrate on traffic as she eased the car forward. Damn it. Troy had the kind of smiling eyes that set her to tingling. They made her want to gaze back at him. She’d have to be careful around those eyes, and not forget herself.
Dating the serious neighbor would be bad.
Dating studly bar hook-ups… well, also bad, but in an entirely naughty-fun, noncommittal way.
She needed to change the subject. Fast. For some reason she was off her game today. She blamed the surprise attack. She was over Rex, but hearing the sounds of his amateur porn had left a sick feeling in her stomach. It dredged up all the shit she didn’t want in her life.
“I hope you like tacos.” Vivien furrowed her brows. Yep. That’s the conversation change she came up with. Tacos. If she weren’t careful, he’d think she was asking him on a date. “Since you’re new here, I doubt you’ve found our secret gem, Toco.” She glanced at the clock. “We call it that because the A on the sign is faded. This time of day Maria will be parked near the beach.”
“Parked? As in a food truck?”
“Not just a food truck. The best food truck in the country,” Vivien corrected. “Trust me. It’s an orgasmic experience.”
Well, crap. Mentioning orgasms probably wasn’t the best way to get his mind off dating her.
Way to go, Viv.
Dumbass.
Vivien pulled out of the parking lot and stepped on the gas, driving a little too fast as she made her way toward the beach.
Chapter Three
Vivien tried not to sigh in relief as she pulled her car into the driveway. “Well, we’re here.”
The obvious statement was just one more thing in a string of stupid things she’d said to Troy on the ride home. Her original plan hadn’t been to put him off by being a complete dingbat, but to let him down easily in a tactful, intelligent way.
Unfortunately, the dingbat method was how everything seemed to be working out.
What was it about this man that threw her off her game? She wasn’t shy when it came to talking to people. Heck, half the time, Heather told her she started a conversation in the middle with strangers and just expected them to go along for the ride. With Troy, nothing came out as planned.
Gah, it was like she was a freshman in high school all over again, saying all the wrong things. Sam had told her it was endearing. Few people had thought so.
Troy had mentioned an author, and she said she didn’t read. It was a blatant lie when there was no reason to lie about it. Authors were a safe conversation to have.
He mentioned baseball, and she said she didn’t care for sports. Not exactly a lie. She didn’t like a lot of sports, but there was something to be said for a good, sexy Scottish caber toss. Thankfully she didn’t start rambling about guys in kilts.
Then, when they finally made it to the taco truck, she’d ordered enough food to feed fifteen friends. Apparently, her subconscious wanted him to think she was having a party and he wasn’t invited. That, or she was going to spend the night binge-eating thirty tacos plus extras.
“Thanks for the ride.” Troy reached for the handle. He carried a small takeout bag as he climbed out of the car. He didn’t meet her gaze.
Vivien frowned at his back. As his door shut, she quickly got out of the car and said, “I lied before. I read. Books. Sometimes. I like thrillers.”
He turned, appearing confused. “Okay?”
“Earlier, when we were driving, you were talking about a class you had to teach and asked if I had read Proust, and I told you I didn’t read. I meant I didn’t read Proust, or I don’t read him—I mean, I have. I found him dull. I like thrillers.”
“No Proust. Got it.” He gave her a tight smile, the kind you give someone to humor them. He lifted his to-go bag in a small wave. “Thanks again for the ride and showing me where to track down the best tacos in the universe.”
Yep, he was humoring her. He hadn’t even tried one of the tacos yet.
Vivien opened her mouth, trying to think of something to redeem herself. Nothing came out.
“Is there anything else?” he asked.
“I…” She glanced at the house. “My friends are expecting me.”
Vivien opened the back car door and pulled out the giant bag of food. She didn’t look back as she rushed toward her front steps.
Well, she had wanted to put him off the idea of asking her out on a date. Mission accomplished. At this rate, she’d be lucky if he’d want to hold a conversation with her again. Dust bunnies were more articulate than she had been.
“I thought you were going to see your ex.” Lorna Addams stood at Vivien’s living room window overlooking the driveway. Hints of bruises still discolored the woman’s arms. Her long brown hair had streaks of reddish-blonde highlights and was pulled up into a messy bun on the top of her head. A few locks fell around her shoulders.
Lorna favored wearing jeans and t-shirts to dressing up. It was that easygoingness that had first caught Vivien’s attention. Lorna wasn’t the type of woman who fussed with herself. Her attention was focused on what she was doing, on taking care of others, on the job at hand. It was no wonder Lorna’s new psychic powers came in the form of finding and healing.