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their mark and stuffed them all inside the garbage sack. After tying the top, he hefted the bag over his shoulder and strode out into the hallway, keeping step with the musical beat.
    While passing Apartment 2A, the door opened. The tenant backed into the hallway, two garbage bags in tow. Not watching where she was going, she bumped right into him.
    Obviously shocked by the sudden impact, she spun around. "Excuse me, I'm so sorry. I should..." Her widened eyes traveled the length of his body. Her mouth gaped.
    He towered over her petite, maybe five-foot-three frame.
    She gazed up at him. "Uh ... I should have been watching where I was going."
    Alex dropped the trash bag on the floor and removed his headphones. Unable to resist, he returned her once over, but with a much slower scan. Blonde hair drawn back into a ponytail presented a youthful appearance, but her clingy, terrycloth outfit did a great job outlining assets that proved she wasn't a child. The way she licked her full bottom lip, maybe a nervous habit, made him want to savor a taste for himself.
    Realizing he had missed most of what she said, he forced himself to stop ogling her and pay attention. He'd heard her apology and needed to respond, but his mouth turned dry as dust. He cleared his throat and smiled. "No problem," he managed to croak.
    Puberty and voice change passed through his mind, but that took place a long time ago. He swallowed hard and pointed to her trash bags and then to his own. "Looks like we're both headed for the same place."
    "Yep, it's Saturday, my cleaning day. Same routine every weekend." Her head tilted in a way that made her beautiful hazel eyes sparkle.
    His palms turned sweaty, and he wiped his right hand against his pant lengthen extended it. "Name's Alex Carlyle. I live in Apartment 2E."
    Her tiny hand disappeared inside his. "Hi, Alex. I'm Cynthia Freitas. Looks like we're neighbors. How long have you lived here?"
    Why did she make his knees weak? He adjusted his stance. "Going on two years already. Time flies when you're having fun."
    "Wow, two whole years!" The rise and fall of her shoulders showed her shock. "I've only lived here for three months and I'm ready to move."
    He laughed. "Me, too. Service is lousy around here, and everything is falling apart. But don't give your two weeks notice yet. There aren't too many other affordable places to live this close to the city."
    He still held her hand, but dropped it like a hot coal the moment he realized he hadn‘t let go. If she was bothered, it didn't show.
    "That's for sure." She seemed to want to keep the conversation going. "I looked at lots of places, but this is the only one within my price range. So, here I am!”  She cocked her head and peered up at him. “Why haven't we run into each other before?"
    "Strange that we haven't, especially since we're just two doors apart. But, then, I pretty much spend all my time at work. When I'm home, I hibernate."
    "What do you do when you aren't…hibernating?"
    "I'm in law enforcement…a police office."
    "Gee. I didn't know a lawman lived so close. I guess I'll have to keep my wild parties to a minimum." Tipping her head back, she giggled, not in a flirty way, but more a nervous titter at a joke made at her own expense.
    A woman's laughter sounded good after so long, and she was cute too boot "Hmm, so, that's where all the noises are coming from. I just thought the pipes were creaking and the floor settling." He leaned against the wall, relaxed and not wanting the conversation to end.
    Her smile faded. "Actually, that's exactly what you heard. Squealing pipes pretty much describes the only sounds coming from my apartment."
    "Right! A pretty girl like you?"
    Her cheeks reddened. "Thank you. But I haven't had time to mix and mingle with anyone other than colleagues from work. I'm an accountant by trade, and they aren't usually the most exciting folks in the world. I like to leave the boring part of me behind at five o'clock."
    Her blush