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“Not bad. Got everything done I needed to.”

“Are you a personal trainer? Sorry, I can’t remember what you said you did.”

Joan studied her junk mail. “A little bit of everything. Whatever they need help with.”

Sadie nodded, pulling out the same advertisement for—funny enough—a window and glass company. “Which gym do you work at?”

“Do you have a local gym?”

“No,” she laughed. “I prefer not to pay for bodily torture.”

Joan laughed, too. “It’s one across town. Kind of small. Caters to a specific clientele.”

“Like CrossFit?”

“Not that kind of torture. It’s, ah…specialized. Tailored to client needs. Pretty boring to talk about.” She raised her arched eyebrows. “You’re home kind of late. Were you busy at the coffee shop?”

How nice Joan remembered where she worked. “I work the late shift, so I’m usually home around this time,” Sadie said, locking her mailbox.

Joan tore up and tossed her junk mail into the large recycle bin. Sadie was holding on to hers, just in case.

Her new neighbor stepped closer. Her citrus-ginger-pleasantly-sweaty scent floated through the air. “Did you get any good coupons in case you have a taco emergency?” Joan teased.

Sadie rolled the rectangular mailer between her palms. “Not tonight.”

“Too bad.”

If Joan kept looking at her with those eyes and that smile and the heat emanating off her body, Sadie was going to have a very personal taco emergency. The kind Joan could take care of.

“I get excited about a good deal,” Sadie rambled on. “I used to clip coupons with my grandma and mom on Sundays when I was a kid. My sister and I had an unofficial competition to see who could find the best deal every week.”

Amusement pulled at Joan’s tempting lips as they walked out of the alcove. “Who usually won?”

“My sister. She’s older and much more competitive.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“The suburbs,” Sadie said. “West Vector.”Where my mom wishes I still lived.“You?”

“A tiny town nobody’s heard of.”

“Hmm. You strike me as a city person.”

Joan considered that. “I guess Ihavelived here most of my life.”

“Not cut out for small-town living?”

She pressed the “up” elevator button and stared straight ahead. “Not at all.”

The elevator doors to their right opened. When they stepped in, Joan switched hands for her gym bag. Metallic clanking and clunking came from inside it.

“What do you have in there?” Sadie asked, glancing at the bulging nylon material.

“Hand weights. My workout clothes.”

“You work out in a suit of armor?”

Joan chuckled, a delightful rumble in her equally delightful throat. “There’s a metal water bottle in there.”