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Joan stared at the closet door and took a deep breath. This decision could make or break everything else that followed. Could set the tone for the entire day.

She opened it, revealing neatly arranged pairs of sneakers in nearly every color.

Now that she was ex-Supervillain Spark, she was dipping her toes into brighter kicks.

Not that she wanted to attract attention.

That still felt too vulnerable. Almost risky given the fact that it’d only been six months since Vector City had been rid of Villains. Some by choice, some by force.

Hmm. The hot-pink ones with dark-blue stripes kind of went with her red-plaid flannel and black skinny jeans. And Sadie was wearing a pink sweater, so she’d think the semi-coordination was cute.

Or was that matchy-matchy in a bad way? The long aprons they wore for Hot and Cold had vertical pale pink and blue stripes. Too many shades of the same colors.

“Joanie,” Sadie called from the kitchen. “Just pick a pair. We have to get going.”

Joan glanced over her shoulder with a smile. She loved hearing Sadie’s cheerful voice in their apartment. The home they’d created together. The spare bedroom where Joan used to keep her Villain gear and spoils of her illicit profession was now…

Well, it was kind of a mess now. When Sadie moved in, she’d cozied up the space with her colorful furniture.

Which had remained neat and tidy for about three weeks before she’d started piling things everywhere.

Books, paint swatches and draft menus for the food truck, off-season clothes, extra throw pillows and blankets on the purple couch…

The only clean surface was the whitewashed desk, since Joan used it more often (and thus organized it). But it was worth it to live with the woman who’d shown her love she’d never thought was possible.

She opted for a pair of reliable black-and-white shoes that would provide comfort and quieter style.

Then she pulled her chin-length hair back as far as it would go.

A few of the shorter dark layers in the front slipped through her fingers.

This was why she didn’t usually do layers.

At least her undercut was freshly shaved.

Ah, well. It’d be another hat day inside the food truck.

Late morning sunlight streamed through the tall sliding glass doors in the living room.

One beam glinted off the metal shelving unit that showcased Joan’s expensive art pieces and little trinkets Sadie had crafted over the years.

They didn’t exactly coordinate but spoke volumes about the merging of their lives.

Like Joan’s napkin doodles Sadie had gotten framed of concepts for Hot and Cold, and hearts with their initials in them.

Sadie bustled around the open kitchen in her thin pink V-neck sweater and royal-blue pants.

Her damp red hair was piled up in a messy bun.

A flicker of heat whispered through Joan’s lower abdomen.

That exposed neck, the milky skin above the twin swells of the most perfect set of breasts known to humanity…

“I should’ve gone with the pink-and-blue shoes,” Joan said.

“There’s no time to change,” Sadie said before shoving the rest of her toast in her mouth.

“I can do it really quick.”

“No.” Sadie covered her mouth as she chewed. “We need to stop at the store. Mark will whine if we’re late.”

“Mark whines about everything.”

Joan sidled up behind her to nuzzle her neck. Then loop her arms around Sadie to press their bodies together. She kissed the spot she knew made her girlfriend’s toes curl. “You look cute today,” she murmured.

“Ma’am,” Sadie giggled. “What did I just say about not having time?”

“What’s the point of running a business if I can’t set my own schedule?” She splayed her fingers where Sadie’s secret tattoo of flowers hid beneath her pants. Her internal fire responded with an excited burst of liquid warmth.

Sadie leaned into the embrace. “We already had morning shower sex. Was our quickie not enough?”

“Sweetheart, you should know by now my least favorite word in the English language is quickie .”

Sadie laughed softly, then squeezed Joan’s arms. “Okay, horndog.” She hesitated for a moment. “You never answered me earlier. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m terrific.”

“That nightmare was your second one this month.”

“It’s really okay.”

“I hate that you get those dreams,” Sadie said.

Joan kissed her cheek. “I hate that it woke you up.”

The nightmares that had been plaguing her since turning on Trick, Hide and Volt had stopped for a while. Now they were back with a vengeance. She really didn’t want to worry Sadie with how disturbing they were.

Sadie eased away to grab her ceramic coffee mug and down its remaining contents. Joan’s fire kept bubbling, needing to go somewhere. She willed it toward her heart, though a lot of it stayed south. Extra fire lingered everywhere in her body lately.

Sadie set her mug and small plate in the sink. Now the fire flattened in irritation. “Babe,” Joan said.

“Hmm?” Sadie slid her phone into her back pocket.

Joan just looked at her.

Sadie swiped her usual cherry-red lipstick on before tossing it in her rainbow-striped tote bag.

“Babe.”

“What?”

Joan gestured at the sink.

“ What? ” Sadie looked around, then understood. “Oh my lord.”

She huffed back to the sink and picked up her mug, then wrenched the dishwasher open and set it inside.

“Thank you,” Joan said with more patience than she felt.

“Mm-hmm.” Sadie put the rest of her dishes in the washer.

“I appreciate it.”

“I know you like a clean kitchen.”

“Happy home, happy life.”

Sadie closed the dishwasher door, then looked up with a small smile. “Happy Joan, happy Sadie.”

Ugh, harping on her felt equal parts asshole and expressive. But a clean kitchen meant more than just a sink without dirty dishes. An orderly home had been one thing in Joan’s chaotic life she’d been able to control.

She followed Sadie to the door. “Are you making Mexican hot chocolate again today?”

“We should have enough ingredients left,” Sadie said.

“Cool. It pairs perfectly with the Tequila Sunset sandwich.”

As they exited their apartment and headed for the elevator, they discussed the day’s menu.

In the three months since opening Hot and Cold, they’d made quite a few changes with Mark.

Tweaked the menu, added more sides, started selling Sadie’s specialty drinks like hot chocolate and apple cider for the cooler winter months.

The biggest change was very quickly realizing none of them enjoyed getting up early to shop and prep to be open for lunch.

So they’d found a perfect weeknight dinner crowd location outside several towering office buildings.

People liked to grab something quick ahead of their evening plans or commute.

There was less competition too, so it was a win all around.

After stopping at a nearby grocery store, Joan drove to where Mark had already parked the truck.

She found a spot around the corner and eased her black sedan into it.

Sadie hopped out to get the groceries as Joan fed the meter.

The sun had dipped behind some clouds, making the breeze in the January air chillier.

She slid her Wayfarer sunglasses to the top of her head even though it felt strange not wearing them in public. Old habits died hard.

Sadie handed over one of the reusable shopping bags so they could hold hands while walking. They passed the husband-and-wife duo who ran Cajun Soul also unloading supplies for their truck.

“There’s the cutest couple ever,” Tenia said with a warm, toothy grin.

“You mean you and Morris?” Sadie replied. “For sure.”

They all laughed. The middle-aged Black couple were so giving with advice and helpful suggestions. They were also enjoying this later-in-life food truck endeavor.

On Crawley Avenue, a few late-lunch customers stood in line for Powered By Plants’ amazing vegan dishes. Beth-Ann was writing something on the truck’s menu board. Her white jacket and platinum-blonde ponytail were almost as bright as the yellow truck.

“You guys have that warm beet salad today?” Joan asked.

“We only have a few left,” Beth-Ann said.

“Ooh, you won’t regret ordering that,” Sadie told their customers. “It’s perfect on a day like today.”

“And then stop by Hot and Cold to get some of Sadie’s spicy apple cider.”

“Aw, thanks. We’ll be open in just a few.”

Joan shared a nod with Beth-Ann. She spied Wren’s jet-black ensemble inside the truck.

Beth-Ann’s tatted, shaved-headed best friend was her total opposite on the outside, but both were all kindness inside.

The supportive community of food truck owners was not something Joan had expected when they got into this business venture. A happy surprise.

This walk with Sadie was her favorite part of each workday. It was so normal. Two people greeting other people they’d befriended doing something they loved. Something good.

They reached where Hot and Cold was parked just north of Allegria Tower.

Its deep-pink-and-blue logo popped from the light-blue background.

Sadie grinned up at Joan, warming her in that pure way.

How had a former Supervillain gotten lucky enough to find a woman who loved her for being boring old Joan Malone?

They shared a quick kiss before opening the side door. The lingering scent of pressed sandwiches mixed with a slight tinge of all-natural cleaning products hung in the truck.

Mark was efficiently dicing an onion at the prep counter. His sandy-blond hair stuck up and out in bedhead chic. “Did you get my tomatillos?” he said.

“Yes, chef,” Sadie teased. She set her shopping bag on the small stainless-steel worktop.

Joan set hers down and began to unpack the fresh veggies her brother needed for his cold topping creations. “Gruyère cheese was on sale, so I got extra.”

“We don’t buy ingredients because they’re on sale,” Mark said. “We buy them because they’re high-quality.”