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When they finally settled down, she continued. “Paleopopulation genetics is a subspecialty of paleoanthropology.”

“Dinosaurs?” he asked.

“No. Technically, paleontology is the study of all ancient life. Dinosaurs are just the sexiest of fossils.”

“Obviously,” he replied, enjoying her jest.

“Paleoanthropology is the study of human ancestors. Paleo for ancient, anthropology for humans. Paleopopulation genetics means using not just the bones themselves but DNA extracted from those bones, to better understand modern human ancestors.”

“So, the genetics of neanderthals?”

“That’s part of it,” she said. “We can trace some bits of earlier archaic human DNA to various geographic populations of modern humans. And there are actually nearly twenty different species of early humans.”

“So you got to dig up the bones and then look at their DNA?”

She nodded. “For the first few years of my marriage to Phil, I spent a lot of time traveling back and forth to Africa.”

“To the dig site where you spent this past summer?”

“To fund the research on introgression on allele mutation in a subset of modern human population.”

It was at that point that Dean realized Vivian was fucking with him. “Now you’re just showing off.”

She laughed. “I committed to writing a book about the findings. That got put on the back burner after Phil died. Last spring, the publisher threatened to hand all of my work over to another researcher to finish it. I’d put so much of my heart and soul into the project, I couldn’t stand the thought of that, so I asked Victor and Belle if they’d watch Pip while I returned to Africa. Completing that book brought me closure I didn’t even realize I needed.”

“I’m glad you got that. Do you think that once Pip is grown up, you’ll ever go back to that career?”

Vivian shook her head. “No. I don’t think I will. I’ve grown somewhat sedentary in my old age.”

Dean snorted. “Oh yeah. You’re practically a geriatric at thirty. Wait until you hit your forties. I swear I creak more than a haunted house every morning when I get out of bed.”

Vivian wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I haven’t noticed you slowing down. At. All.”

Dean stroked his finger across the top of one of her hands. “What can I say? With you, I feel like a horny teenaged boy again.”

She giggled.

The waitress returned with the bill, and Dean paid it, offering Vivian his hand as they stood. It was a gorgeous October day, the sun shining in a bright blue sky. The breeze off the harbor was a warm one, unlike the brutal kind that cut through Baltimore residents during most of the winter months.

Vivian lifted her face skyward, drawing in a slow, deep breath. “Going back to work is going to suck.”

He nodded in agreement. They were headed to the parking lot when Vivian pulled up short.

“Hey,” she said, pointing to the independent bookstore. “Do you think we could go in there for a few minutes? Belle’s birthday is coming up and there’s a book she wants. I planned to order it online, but I’d prefer to support an independent bookstore.”

“I have plenty of time,” he lied. Like her, he hated the idea of going back to work, and he loved his job.

They stepped inside, Vivian heading straight for the romantic suspense section, while Dean meandered around. He wasn’t much of a reader, something he always told himself he would change one day in the future when he had more time.

Sure, I will, he thought sardonically.

He stopped in front of a colorful display of children’s books. Since the fall sports seasons—hockey and football—had started, someone had pulled together a collection of sports-themed books for kids. He picked up a hockey one, flipping through the pages. It was about a little girl learning to skate with her dad.

Pip would love it.

Dean started to put the book back, then glanced over his shoulder. Vivian was talking to one of the store employees. Venturing to the register, he bought the book before he could overthink it. The cashier had just handed him the bag when Vivian joined him.

“Find what you were looking for?” he asked.