“IS THAT THE PSYCHIC?” a low voice muttered from beside Via.
She turned and blinked in surprise when she saw Sebastian squinting toward the stands of the softball field. She hadn’t realized he was on the team, as he hadn’t been at any of the other games. And sure enough, he was looking right at Fin with her long black braid and purple pants. She was patting Sebastian’s dog on the head and sharing a snack with Matty. Seemed they’d already made friends in the forty-five seconds that they’d shared a bench.
“How’d you know?” Via asked, amazed that he’d guessed.
Sebastian shrugged. “She’s just got a, you know...” He waggled his fingers and widened his eyes. “Spooky vibe.”
Via laughed and cocked her head to one side, her hair kissing her shoulder and reminding her that she needed to pull it up into a ponytail for the game. “I see what you mean. I think it’s all the silver jewelry.”
“What’s the psychic’s name, again?”
Via wondered for one vibrating second if he was interested in her friend. “Serafine St. Romain.”
“Wow.”
“Fin, to her friends.”
“That’s a lot of name.”
Via raised an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk.”
“Hey! Sebastian is a classic name.” She felt him eye her as she put one foot up on the bench to tie her running shoe. “So, you play softball?”
She tied a crisp little knot and moved on to the other shoe. “High school. And then a little in college.”
“Oh. Wow. Now I’m nervous.”
“You’re not good?” Via squinted up at him; he was standing right in the sun. He moved a few inches to one side, and she dropped her shading hand.
“Eh. I can run. But I was wooed here.”
Via looked around at the other members of the softball team, stretching and organizing equipment. Sadie was kissing Rae at the other end of the dugout. “Well, even if you’re not stellar, nobody cares. It’s a good group.”
Seb knocked some dirt out of the treads of his shoe with the fat end of a softball bat. “You’ve been playing with them all season?”
“Just the last three weeks. Sadie talked me into it that first happy hour.”
“Hey!” Sebastian called over to Sadie. “You didn’t even get me drunk before you smooth-talked me. I feel cheated.”
“I pulled a soccer ball out of Casey Dane’s soccer shorts for you. You owed me,” Sadie called back, and Sebastian immediately burst out laughing.
“Do I even want to know?” Via asked, waving at Matty and Fin in the stands when they caught her eye.
“She’s been helping out with soccer practice, and it’s occasionally a little...unruly. Seriously, pump ’em full of Capri Sun, and those kids go rabid.” His eyes were on her as she tied her hair back into a ponytail. A frown line appeared between his eyebrows. She glanced up at that plain, wide-featured face, those light eyes so still and so bright, like they were backlit. Her dark gaze skittered away when he spoke again. “So, you’re sporty, huh?”
“I’m lots of things,” Via responded before she jogged out toward where the team was gathering around Sadie.
SEBASTIAN COULDN’T HELP but grin as he gripped the chain-link fence. He was surprised she hadn’t broken the bat with that last hit. The ball was going, going, gone. And so was Miss Via DeRosa as she rounded first, gunning for second.
He tried to wipe the smile from his face—he was sure it was bordering on dopey—but he found it wouldn’t quit. It was a joy to watch her play softball. She was powerful and light all at once. Actually, she made the rest of them look like they had their shoes tied together. Also, it didn’t hurt that she looked so damn good with that cap pulled low over her eyes and those leggings that showed two perfectly hollowed ankles.
She was cute. It wasn’t a crime to think she was cute, he reminded himself. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything about it. This game had been all the reminder he’d needed of his age. His knees were already sore from the triple he’d managed to hit last inning. He could only imagine how they’d feel in the morning.
And there she was, bulleting around each base like a little midtwenties hummingbird. He knew she didn’t worry about her knees. She was probably gonna swipe on some lipstick and go dancing with her hair model boyfriend tonight. She was young enough she probably still smoked cigarettes and didn’t worry about the cost. She probably drank sweet drinks out of fancy glasses and showed up hungover to yoga the next morning.
Sebastian, on the other hand, was going to ice his knees while his kid fell asleep during Turbo.
Well, at least he’d had sex in the last ten days.
That was new for him.
“Dad!” Matty yanked on the pocket of Seb’s athletic pants.
“Matty!” Seb parroted.
“I wanna throw the ball for Crabby.” Matty’s big gray-green eyes squinted, his lips pursing like he already knew what the answer was gonna be.
“I have concerns.”
Matty’s face scrunched further. Apparently, his dad’s concerns were tiresome. “I can do it on my own!”
Seb raised one eyebrow.
Matty was already anticipating. “It won’t be like last time. I swear. I won’t throw the ball very far, and I’ll stay where you can see me. Plus, I’m not wearing my nice clothes like before so it doesn’t matter if Crabby gets me all dirty.”
Matty held his arms out to show off his worn T-shirt and ratty jeans. His smile was growing bigger and bigger, knowing he was inching closer to getting what he wanted. He shook his little butt for good measure, knowing it always made his dad smile.
“All right. But right over there, okay? And if he starts running away, shout for me right away. Don’t try to get him yourself. That’s how we ended up in Prospect Park at 11:45 at night last month.”
“Yes!” Matty did one more butt wiggle, this time because he was happy. “Thanks, Dad!”
And boy and dog were off, jostling each other as they sprinted to the other side of the field.
“I like the way you are with him,” a slightly out-of-breath Via said as she came to stand beside him in the dugout.
“Wow, I didn’t even realize you’d tagged in!” Seb gazed down at her, the sheen of sweat on her face turning her skin a darker gold. Stop saying wow, for fuck’s sake, Seb.
She nodded. “Homer.”
“Second of the night. Impressive.” Seb curled his fingers farther into the chain-link fence to keep himself from doing something dumb, like bumping her shoulder with his.
“Thanks.”
“And thanks to you, too. For the parenting compliment.”
“You deserve it. It seems like you and Matty have a good relationship.”
Seb searched her face for judgment. Was she comparing him now to the way he’d been back then? Was she thinking of that day? Mismatched buttons and dirty hair and a slob of a father?
He didn’t see that there, on her face. Her eyes were calm and wide, filling up half her dang face, her plush little mouth was tipped up at the sides, and she wrinkled her squished nose against a bead of sweat that traced down from her forehead.
“Well, I’ve worked to get us there. Being a good dad was something I had to practice.”
“All good things take practice.” She shrugged and looked out toward the softball game. “At least in my experience.”
“Hey, would you wanna—” Seb cut himself off in horror. Holy God. He’d been about to ask her out again. Just like that. She looked up at him, sweaty and sweet, and the words dang near popped right out. Boyfriend be damned. Age gap and creaky knees be damned. He stalled.
She was still looking at him. He needed to say something. “Uh, would you want a ride home? I know we’re in the same neighborhood. And, uh, Matty and I drove here so that we could bring the Pup McGruff, and I just thought I’d offer.”
Pup McGruff.
He’d just looked into a beautiful woman’s face, mumbled, stuttered and referred to his dog as Pup McGruff. Yeah. Any cool points he might have gained for recently having had sex were officially moot now.
“Oh, well, I’d never say no to that. I wasn’t looking forward to the sweaty train ride home. Can Fin come, too?”
“Yeah, of course. Of course. Totally. I might have to move some of our camping gear to the truck bed but sure. Of course.”
And that’s how Sebastian found himself with a psychic in the front seat of his truck. Matty and Via sat strapped into the back seat, Matty in a booster, of course, and Crabby passed out, belly-up, on the floor. He put the truck in Reverse, then slammed it back into Park when he saw a guy struggling with a stroller in the parking lot. “Be right back.”
Sebastian recognized him as one of the two other guys on the team. He jogged over.
“Hey, man. You’re Giles, right?”
The slightly skinny man looked up from where he crouched, his eyes catching on Seb’s face for a second. “That’s right. And you’re Sebastian?”
He was British, apparently, something that Seb hadn’t noticed in their first introduction earlier that morning.
“Yeah. Can I give you a hand with the stroller? I used to have the same one for my son.”
Giles rose up and nodded, stepping away. “My husband took our daughter to the bathroom, and my job was to get the stroller into the car. It’s a little emasculating to fail so epically at the easier task.”
Seb scoffed. “Trust me. There’s nothing easy about this monstrosity. Here, you put your foot here and really jam down at the same time you rip back on this handle. I think of it like I’m starting a chainsaw. You try.”
“Ahhhh,” Giles muttered as he followed Seb’s directions and the stroller folded down. “Brilliant.”
“When in doubt, just kick the hell out of it. Or buy a new stroller.”
Giles chuffed out a laugh. “Ah, here’s my husband. Look, hon, I folded the stroller!”
Seb grinned at the satisfied look on his new friend’s face. Giles’s husband strolled up, a little girl, maybe two years old, on his hip. She glared out from under a mop of red hair, much like the hair of the man who held her.
“Sebastian, this is my husband, Benjamin.”
“Sebastian Dorner.” Seb shook hands with Benjamin and leaned in just a little to the sulky little girl. “And what’s your name, beautiful?”
The little girl said nothing, choosing instead to pull an even more sour face in Seb’s direction.
“Her name is Clara. And contrary to popular belief, she does speak. Are you Sebastian Dorner, the furniture maker?” Benjamin asked.
Seb looked up in surprise. “Yeah.”
“Oh my gosh! I’m thrilled to meet you. I’ve been lusting after your website for months. You made a bookcase for some friends of ours. The Littlefields.”
“Oh sure.” Sebastian nodded. “They’re nice people. Fun to work with.”
“Are you taking on clients right now?”
“Always.” Seb reached for his wallet and then remembered he was wearing athletic pants. “Let me grab you a business card from the truck.”
“No worries, I’ll reach out to you through your website.”
“Great. Look, I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you next week?” The words were out of Sebastian’s mouth before he thought twice about it. Somehow, between watching Via round the bases like a cheetah and chatting with these nice people in the parking lot, Seb had decided to come back.
“Sounds good, nice to meet you!”
Seb toggled his fingers at Clara, earning an imperious, affronted look from the little girl, and grinned at the two dads. He turned and jogged back to the car.
“Everything all right?” Via asked from the back seat. Seb saw that Matty had talked one of the two ladies into unwrapping a granola bar and handing him his water bottle.
“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.