But she was no poster for fitness, that was for sure.
She’d run from her old life and moved into this rickety old house two months ago. It was far better than the month-to-month apartment she’d initially escaped to.
This house had personality.
It had history.
It had character.
It was hers.
And damn, but it had one hot neighbor.
She grabbed a spray bottle and misted some conditioner on her hair. She dared not brush it or she’d resemble a lion.
And she’d need to either change out of her T-shirt or put on a bra.
Or perhaps both.
She crossed the hallway to her bedroom and pulled out a slightly less worn T-shirt and the most comfortable bra she owned.
It would be warm outside because it was June. At least it had been the last time she checked.
She kicked off her sweats and pulled on a pair of cutoff shorts. They fit loosely and extended all the way to her knees. Like her grandma used to wear.
But they were comfortable. Safe. She wasn’t out to impress anyone.
Stepping into a pair of flip-flops, she figured she was dressed appropriately enough for the grocery store. It was the middle of the day; hopefully, most normal people were at work.
Luckily, nobody in town knew her.
That was why she’d left Denver.
If she could make herself invisible, she probably would.
Descending the stairs, she huffed into her hand. Had she brushed her teeth after coffee today? Maybe. Did it matter?
This is only a trip to the store, for Pete’s sake.
She grabbed the reusable cloth bags she’d purchased so that she wouldn’t have to use the store’s plastic ones– doing her part to save the environment– and smelled her pits.
She would be fine. This was why she’d moved here, after all. Complete and utter anonymity.
The sunlight caused her eyes to water, blinding her momentarily. She rummaged through her purse until locating the key at the bottom. Sure, Pine Springs was a small town, but old habits died hard. It only made sense to lock the dead bolt. The boards on the porch creaked. She was going to have to get them fixed someday. Maybe next year.
Her eyes continued to water. Damned if she hadn’t spent too much time indoors. At least she wasn’t wearing makeup; it would be all over her face by now.
Casting her gaze downward, she headed toward the street but didn’t make it two steps before crashing into a wall of steel. What the heck? Her small frame literally bounced off the man blocking her way.
Hello. His masculinity– his overwhelming maleness– stole her breath.
It was him.
He flinched, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand.
His other hand, pinned against his chest with the bandage, loosely clasped a measuring cup.
“Oh, um, sorry.” She mumbled hesitantly. Her first thought was that her new “hobby” had been discovered. What did a person say in such a situation? Would he call the cops? This could get mortifying quickly.
