Stan Ryan stepped out onto his front lawn dressed for a run. It was early on a clear, bright, autumn morning in Denver. The sky was bright but the neighborhood was still in shadow, the sun barely peeking above the houses to the east. Across the street, a U-Haul truck was parked at the curb. Stan remembered seeing the SOLD sign go up a few weeks ago. It looked as if his new neighbors had arrived.

Stan did a few limbering up exercises while he observed the new arrivals. He wondered how many were his new neighbors—there were two women and one man unloading boxes from the truck. Good odds that at least one of the new arrivals was a woman—and both of them looked good.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, Stan strolled across the street to introduce himself.

The large young man and one of the young women were carrying a sofa down the ramp from the truck. The man was over six feet and well muscled. His companion was of average height with shoulder-length dark hair, and didn’t look nearly strong enough to carry her end of the sofa.

“Can I help you with that?” Stan stepped in next to the young woman. She gave him a wary glance, then smiled.

“Sure,” she said. “You live around here, I take it.”

Stan grabbed hold of the sofa, sharing the load with the woman. “Right across the street. Stan Ryan. I’d offer to shake, but…”

“I understand,” the young woman said. “Leah Wright.”

“So, we’re going to be neighbors?” The possibility didn’t displease Stan.

Leah smiled. The man holding the other end of the sofa laughed. “No, not us.” She glanced toward the open front door of the house. “She’s your new neighbor.”

Stan let his gaze follow hers. A tall young woman with red hair exited the house. She was dressed in a black warm-up suit and ball cap. A red ponytail was threaded through the opening of the cap in back, bobbing with every step. Even at this distance, her green eyes were arresting.

Leah said something. After a moment, Stan tore his gaze away from the redheaded vision. “I’m sorry—what?”

Leah grinned and shook her head. “Story of my life. Everybody drools over the redhead, ignores the brunette.”

“Not everybody,” the big guy said. He looked at Stan. “I’m Victor, by the way. Since nobody else has seen fit to introduce me.” He looked pointedly at Leah.

Stan nodded to Victor. “Nice to meet you, Victor.”

The redheaded vision approached. She glanced at Stan, then turned her attention to Leah. “Who’s the hunk?”

Leah laughed and turned to Stan. “That was easy, wasn’t it?”

Stan looked from Leah to the redhead and back again, uncertain of where he stood. He liked hearing the redhead call him a hunk, though. “Stan,” he told her. “Stan Ryan.”

“Rachel Hartman,” the redhead said. Her smile was as bright as her eyes. “So you’re my new neighbor?”

“I am.”

“Excellent.”

Rachel’s gaze dipped to give him a once-over. “You run?”

“Yes.”

Rachel’s smile brightened further. “Even better.”

“You run?” Stan was certain she did. She had the body of a long distance runner. He sensed amusement from Victor and Leah at his question, though his attention was focused on Rachel.

“I do,” Rachel agreed.

“We should get together for a run sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” Stan said. He held Rachel’s gaze until Victor cleared his throat. Stan looked at him.

“This sofa ain’t gonna move itself,” Victor announced. He raised his end a little, reminding Stan that he’d stopped moving.

“Oh—sorry.” Stan began shuffling forward again, in step with Victor and Leah. “Duty calls,” he said to Rachel.

“I love work,” Rachel said with a laugh. “I could sit and watch it all day.”

“Don’t we know it,” Leah and Victor said in unison. Stan watched them laugh, saw the look that passed between them. They were lovers, Stan concluded. He was certain of it. And that was fine with him. Leah was an attractive woman, but he was powerfully drawn to Rachel. It was good to know that Victor was out of the running. He’d be stiff competition.

Stan helped them carry the sofa into the house and set it down in the empty living room. He followed Victor and Leah back out to the truck. When he asked what he could do next, Leah brushed him off. “We’ve got this. And you were obviously just going out for a run. Don’t let us keep you.”

Stan turned to Rachel. “Are you sure? Because I—”

“We’re sure,” Rachel said. “I appreciate your willingness to help, but we’ve got this. Besides, how can Leah and I talk about you if you’re right here?”

Stan grinned, unreasonably pleased. “You’re going to talk about me after I’m gone?”

Rachel smiled back. “You betcha.”

“I guess I’d better go, then.” He turned to Leah, offered his hand. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you’ll say nice things about me to Rachel.”

Her grip was strong. “Most likely. You helped right away. That’s a point in your favor.”

Stan shook Victor’s hand too. He slapped Stan on the shoulder. “Good luck, pal. Good luck on the running.” His gaze slid over to Rachel. “You’ll need all the endurance you can muster.”

“Victor!” Rachel sounded scandalized, but her smile didn’t dim.

“I’m just saying, is all.”

“I’ll see you later, then,” Stan said to Rachel.

“Count on it.”

Stan nodded. He turned and started jogging down the street. He resisted the urge to turn and look back.

Rachel watched Stan run down the street. He was a handsome young man. A little shorter than she was, solidly built but not quite stocky, not with long, lean limbs like his. Black hair that would probably curl adorably if he didn’t keep it cut short, dark eyes, and a dusting of freckles over pale skin.

She steeled herself for comments from Leah and Victor. She wasn’t disappointed.

“Jesus, Rachel, planning your next conquest already?”

Rachel turned toward Leah. “And what if I am?”

“Trollop,” Leah said with a grin. “Right, Vic?”

Victor cut the air in front of him with a firm slash of his hand. “Keep me out of this.”

“Coward.”

Victor grinned at Leah. “You know it.”

“He’s cute,” Rachel said. “And helpful. A nice guy.”

“Not so helpful,” Leah said. “We’d do better if it were just Victor and me moving the heavy stuff.”

“I suppose,” Rachel said. “He couldn’t know that, though.” Leah, Iron Maiden to the public at large, was by far the strongest of the three of them, though Victor, the Black Knight, was much stronger than a normal man. They cooperated to move heavy items only for appearance’s sake, and because bulky items were hard to maneuver no matter how strong one was. Their strength was why Rachel had asked for their help. Having a superheroine for a best friend had its benefits.

She turned to give Leah a mock glare. “And by the way, who are you to be calling me a trollop?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“That’s rich, coming from you. Or did I only imagine you telling me about your threesome in Chicago?”

“Well, yes…”

“Iron Maiden, my ass! You haven’t been a maiden for years, Leah.”

“Not since I was sixteen,” Leah agreed with good cheer. “As you well know. I told you all about it when it happened. But enough about me. So, you gonna bed this guy?”

Rachel stared down the street where Stan had vanished into the distance. “I think I will. Eventually. Maybe. I may have to take his measure first.”

“What?”

“Not like that, Victor,” Leah said before Rachel could respond. “I’ll explain later.”

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