"Treeeee Truuunk!" I ran for Baruch and jumped on his back, pressing a loud kiss to the side of his head while pretending to dry hump him, and that's when I saw the unfamiliar man.

Kippah wearing, no Rasha ring, fit but "gym fit," not killing-demons fit. Like he'd calculated the exact number of reps to get his lightly muscled physique, the perfect match to his tan, but not-overtly-so skin. This had to be the rabbi that ran this chapter.

I slid off Tree Trunk, he of the Zen ...