“Yup, I just feel an obligation to pass on hard-won stroller knowledge to other dads. Plus, I think I landed myself an interested client.”

“Knuckles, Daddy.”

Sebastian grinned as he reached back and pounded fists with his six-year-old.

“Via tells me you’re an artist,” Serafine said from the front seat. They’d met briefly outside his truck, and Sebastian felt a little skip of his heart when she spoke to him now. She definitely had some strange energy coming off of her. Maybe it was her ethereal river of dark hair or those eerie eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that she was painfully gorgeous, fierce and beautiful like a goddess, or a pirate queen. But either way, Seb was having trouble looking her in the face for any length of time.

“Furniture maker.”

Seb reversed the car and headed toward the BQE.

“He’s an artist. You should see the furniture he makes. It’s stunning,” Via chimed in from the back seat. Seb watched in the rearview mirror while she recapped Matty’s bottle of water for him.

Seb tried not to shift under Serafine’s sparking gaze. He wondered just how psychic she really was.

“Is that right? Via, you should buy something then, sister.” She turned to Sebastian. “Her place is depressing. Where IKEA furniture goes to die.”

“Fin!”

“It’s true.” Serafine shrugged, a touch of humor in her voice.

“You need some furniture?” Sebastian asked through the rearview mirror.

“No! I—yes. I do. I just moved, and I’m still getting everything settled. I was thinking of asking you anyway, before my very rude friend stuck her nose in my beeswax.”

Matty laughed. “Hey, Dad.”

“What’s up?” Seb flipped his blinker on and exited onto Shore Parkway.

“Knock knock.”

Sebastian grinned. “Who’s there?”

“Nunya.”

He grinned harder.

“Nunya who?”

“Nunya beeswax.”

The three adults laughed, and Matty cheesed like he’d just won a gold medal.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“HO-LY MARY, MOTHER of God, sister.”

Via knew exactly what Fin was going to say. She shook her head as she poured two glasses of cheap red wine and twisted open a big jar of pretzels. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

“That man is hotter than July. Like, a serious hunk.” She laughed at herself. “Wow, sometimes I sound just like Jetty, don’t I?”

Via laughed and nodded in agreement. But apparently Fin wasn’t done.

“Like, you could roast a marshmallow on that man’s hotness.” Serafine accepted the glass of wine, the bangles on her wrists clinking together as she stretched out her legs onto the coffee table. Via didn’t need to ask for clarification about who they were talking about.

“Yeah. I never really saw it before, but I gotta say, he looked good in those workout clothes.” She’d been a little surprised at how handsome he’d been, all casual and Saturday rumpled. “All the ladies at school are always going on about how hot he is, but I didn’t really get it until he hit that triple in the sixth inning.”