A breeze lifted her hair slightly as she looked at the sky. I knew she felt my gaze exploring her soft cheek, her arms. She didn’t seem to mind.

  Was she having the same thoughts as me? Could a woman so mature, so experienced in life, be interested in a guy so much younger?

  Maybe I was mistaken, and it wasn’t that kind of interest. Maybe I was just awakening her mothering instincts. After all, she was probably old enough to have given birth to me.

  Far from being sobering, those thoughts intoxicated me. The gap in our age only made me feel more drawn towards her, like opposite magnetic charges.

  An electrical thrill pulsed through me. Somehow, I felt like I possessed exactly the things she needed at that moment, and she had everything I needed.

  Which was kind of crazy, since I’d just met this lady.

  As if to conspire along with us, clouds swiftly floated across the sun like a curtain, and the room suddenly became darker.

  “I could probably fix that window too,” I murmured, my heart beating.

  She turned, still close to the window. “You’re a real handyman, huh?” There was a glimmer in her eyes and a tone of appreciation in her voice.

  “I like fixing things.”

  “What was your app, anyway? I’m really curious.” She sat her butt on the window sill, her hands resting on either side.

  I held her gaze for a second. I knew this would come up sooner or later. “My app?”

  She laughed, slapping her thighs. “Yes! You’re makin’ me even more curious now. Is it a secret? You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”

  Her face was glowing, she was laughing, we were comfortable together. For all the world, it felt very much like we were on a date.

  The moment was right.

  I raised my hand and put it gently on her shoulder. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you curious.”

  It was only a brief touch, to test the waters. But still, it was kind of bold of me, because her shoulders and arms were so naked in the shadowy light.

  Her eyes widened slightly as my hand lightly squeezed her soft flesh, and then, as I lifted it away, she threw her head back and shook her hair, letting out a girlish giggle.

  “So, tell me! What is it?” She was directly facing me, smiling so broadly that her teeth were showing.

  She clearly did not mind the touch. On the contrary, it seemed to excite her.

  But I still had another slight problem on my hands. I didn’t want to go into too much detail about my app, at least not yet.

  It could be…awkward.

  “It’s a dating app.”

  “A dating app?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like that what-do-you-callit? Tinder? You know, I never tried that.”

  “Same basic idea, but I found a different, uh, a different niche.”

  Caroline raised her eyebrow humorously. “Oh?”

  My cheeks were hot. I could feel myself blushing. Mercifully, Caroline gave me a lifeline.

  “That’s okay, you can explain all the spicy details another time,” she chuckled, touching my arm briefly before walking towards the door. “Dinner’ll be ready around 6:30.”

  “Alright, I’ll probably take a walk.”

  As I heard Caroline going down the stairs, I stood for a second, processing what just happened.

  We were definitely flirting. It’s totally unambiguous now.

  Or at least, I was being flirty and she seemed to like it.

  No, not only like it. She was flirting back.

  But did she mean anything by it? Did she actually want this to go somewhere, or was she just having fun, maybe to boost her ego or something?

  Leaning against the window pane, I realized I could see into Sofia’s yard—and she was sunbathing again. For a second, I gazed at her perfectly shaped ass and thighs.

  Moving away from the window, I now had a full-on tent in my jeans.

  At least they hadn’t asked me to explain the details of my app. The truth was, it was an app to connect younger men with older women. Revealing that to Caroline and Sofia at this point might have weirded them out a bit.

  Because whenever I told people about it, they always assumed I had some kind of “mommy” kink.

  But I totally did not. Really. I had simply found an underserved niche. There was nothing more to it than that.

  Back when I’d decided to create an app, I’d started with months of market research. I even started making one app but threw it away when I realized the idea wasn’t going to work.

  Eventually, I heard a friend talking about all the hot milfs he’d seen in the mall. And that was where the idea came from. I researched it and found that there was demand but not really a great product available.

  But people never believed me when I explained that. And the more I protested, the more it convinced them that I had a hard-on for mature women.

  Never mind the fact that I have a hard-on right now. That’s just a coincidence.

  I looked out the window again. Sofia was gone. My eyes drifted to the river. It was quite small, and I wasn’t even sure if it was one of the “Three Rivers” referred to in the region’s name, or just a tributary.

  The opposite bank was covered in long grass and the occasional willow. A windswept field spread out beyond, and I could see farms in the distance.

  On our side of the river, I saw a wooden railing. There was a set of stairs leading down the bank. I could see part of a dock on the water below. The stairs were just a little beyond Sofia’s property. I’d have to check that out later.

  After bringing up my suitcase and unpacking, I decided to take a walk and explore.

  As I came down Caroline’s porch steps and strolled down her driveway, a silver BMW pulled into the driveway across the street.

  A woman in a crisp business suit got out just as I walked onto the street.

  She was tall in high heels. Straight blonde hair, and a very young face. Didn’t look older than mid-twenties.

  She paused and looked at me with an appraising expression before clicking up her driveway carrying a leather business bag.

  Thankfully, the heat had relented as I made my way down the street. The neighborhood was quiet except for cicadas.

  I stopped and listened, astonished at how peaceful it was. The only other noise I heard was a distant lawnmower. I let out a long sigh and smiled.

  I could definitely get used to this.

  Walking past the empty houses I’d spotted on the way in, I noticed the realtor sign had a picture that looked a lot like the girl I’d just seen.

  Stepping closer, I looked at the professional headshot of a pretty, smiling blonde, her arms crossed like she was ready to get to work.

  “Amber McAlister - Your Local Property Expert!”

  Probably good to be in that business in this town, I figured, if what people said about it was true. Certainly, Jim saw it as an up-and-coming place. A bit off the beaten path, sure, but overlooked.

  Maybe I should think about buying property here.

  Following the map app on my phone, I made my way to the small downtown area. Everything was close here, so it took me less than ten minutes to walk there.

  The town had lots of historic brick buildings, and the sidewalks of Main Street were fitted with quaint lanterns and small, well tended flower beds.

  The central square had one of those classic gazebos, surrounded by leafy oak trees. An old courthouse with big white columns dominated one side, and a bronze Civil War memorial stood on the lawn.

  With late-afternoon shadows stretching across the streets, a fair number of cars and pick-up trucks drove by, and people were walking on the sidewalks, apparently on their way home from work.

  A few of them nodded and said “hello” as they passed—something that would never happen back in the city.

  I loved the fact that the downtown area was still the center of the community. It hadn’t been hollowed out by big box stores.

  But there were signs of struggle, too. An old hardware store’s windows were papered over. And a really cool, old-fashioned movie theater was, sadly, no longer in use.

  ‘For Lease’ signs were posted in several storefronts. I even saw a scruffy street guy riding a bicycle loaded up with bags.

  “Even here?” I muttered.

  Circling back, I came down a different street, where I saw a restaurant with a colorful sign on the sidewalk in front, showing the daily menu.

  What caught my eye was the yellow, blue, and red horizontal tricolor. Was that the Colombian flag, by any chance?

  Sure enough, the restaurant was called Como en Casa, and the menu in the window said “Home-cooked Colombian food.”

  Although it couldn’t have been literally cooked at home, I knew what it meant, and that was just the sort of thing I liked.

  I stepped inside to take a peek. The space was small but brightly decorated. One wall was painted with a scene of mountains, coffee plants, and parrots.

  There were only seven small tables, somewhat cramped together, and five of them were occupied. Not bad for a Monday night, I figured.

  One lady was eating soup. The other four tables were occupied by men in work boots and dirty shirts, apparently just off a shift. They had plates of chicken, sausages, beans, rice, and avocados.

  My mouth was watering.

  The waitress was standing at the counter, discussing an order with the cook, a grandmotherly Hispanic lady.

  “Hello! Would you like a table?” she said, turning towards me.

  “No thanks, I was just looking.”

  Heading back through the town, I strolled along Riverside Way and found the park near Caroline’s house. The grass sloped down to the riverbank, where the water was clear and calm. I could see right to the bottom.

  A forest loomed on the opposite bank, dark with shadows. The sun was much lower now, and the light was growing gentler. Near the water, lush lilies bobbed their heads, spreading their flaming pink petals.

  I had that strange, sleepy feeling again, like anything could happen.

  Fantasies of Caroline and Sofia came to me. I imagined them skinny dipping, rising from the river, water streaming down their bodies as they demanded I join them.

  But I quickly reeled in those thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly, then made my way back to Caroline’s.

  She would just about have dinner ready.

  Chapter six

  By the time I was walking up Caroline’s porch steps, I was focused more on food than anything else.

  I hadn’t eaten adequately that day, so I couldn’t wait to try her cooking. The smell of roasting chicken greeted me as I entered the house and went to the kitchen.

  Caroline was at the stove, dressed more formally than before in a navy blue dress that hugged her curves, ending just above her knees. Her hair was swept up elegantly, with pearl earrings hanging like drops, catching the fading light.

  She moved purposefully in low heels, stirring something in a pot. At the same time, she lifted the lid off another pot, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam.

  “You’re just in time. Dinner’s almost ready,” she said without turning around.

  The oven light was shining against her knees. Inside, a roasting pan held a whole chicken surrounded by vegetables. Her shapely legs gleamed in the warm light.

  “That smells so good,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. The kitchen was steamy, windows slightly fogged. A basket of freshly baked rolls sat on the counter.

  “Just a good old roast chicken,” she said with that musical Southern lilt, but I could tell she was pleased.

  She moved to the sink to rinse fresh green beans, her heels knocking on the tiled floor.

  “Can I help with anything?”

  She glanced over her shoulder with a warm smile. Her eyes were softly made up, and her lips were pink with fresh lipstick.

  “You could set the table if you’d like. Plates are in that cabinet there.”

  She walked back to stir the gravy. Her mind was clearly on something, and her movements were quick, like she was in a hurry.

  “Am I setting the table for two?” I asked casually, reaching for a plate.

  “Yes, please! Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush.” She checked her watch while she kept stirring the gravy.

  “You’re a busy woman,” I said, setting out the plates on a round, wooden table beyond the kitchen island.

  “I’m on the beautification committee. Every Monday night is our meeting. It’s a lot more work than I expected, but I’m glad I’m taking part in it.”

  “Well, you seem to be doing a good job. The town is lovely. I noticed the flowers—”

  “Down on Mainstreet?” She smiled proudly over her shoulder. “That was us. We pushed for it when they were redoing the street. The lamp posts, too.”

  “I really like the lamp posts. Very charming.”

  She beamed at me again. “Right? Thank you! You’re a very sensible boy, Ryan.”

  I laughed. “Well, I like to think so.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t call you a boy. You’re not a boy.”

  A moment later, after I’d laid out the cutlery, glasses, and lemonade, she called, “Um, Ryan? Can you help me?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” I said, walking over.

  She slumped her shoulders and rolled her eyes as I came up beside her. “Was that payback for me calling you a boy? Look, we’re even now, okay?”

  I chuckled, easily placing my hand on her shoulder again. It felt so natural with the way she was teasing me. “Sorry. I’ll call you Miss. What’s your last name?”

  She was smiling broadly, and I felt her tremble slightly under my touch. “Summers, but you can—”

  “Miss Summers.”

  Her shoulders shook with laughter as she slumped forward. “No! Ryan!”

  “How can I help you, Miss Summers?”

  Her hand fell onto my arm as she turned towards me, laughing like a teenage girl. This close, I could smell her perfume — a fresh, breezy scent — mixing with the aroma of the roasting chicken. “Ryan! Stop it. Please, call me Caroline.”

  “Okay,” I said, relenting with a friendly smile. “How can I help you, Caroline?”

  She took a breath, composing herself. Then, with exaggerated dignity, she pointed to the cupboard above. “Could you be a darling, please, and reach up there and grab the little pot?”

  I stepped closer, reaching past her.

  “This one?” I said, pulling one out.

  “No, it’s smaller, with a handle.” She was still facing me as I reached again, searching around, our bodies close. “That’s the one! Thank you, Ryan.”

  “You’re welcome, Caroline.” I handed her the pot, aware of how her fingers brushed mine as she took it.

  Turning away, I snuck a glance at her face. Her eyes were wide, lips slightly parted, as if she was surprised that we were full-on flirting now.

  I sat on a stool on the other side of the counter. “You know, I thought maybe you had a hot date tonight, all dressed up like that.”

  She let out a small laugh. “Oh, no. Just the beautification committee.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I haven’t really dated since my divorce. That was… gosh, 17 years ago, I guess.”

  “Wow. That’s a long time.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She tasted the gravy and added a pinch of salt. “Just wasn’t ready for a long time, I guess. And then, none of the guys around here interested me.

  “My friends tried to get me to go online, but I didn’t want to. Just isn’t my thing.” She glanced at me. “What about you? Have you dated since breaking up with your girlfriend?”

  “No. I just focused on my work after that.”

  “Why did you break up?”

  I smiled. Girls always wanted the details. “She was... kind of crazy. I mean, she was a lot of fun, and I really liked being with her. We had a lot in common.

  “But then… she started giving me all this drama. No matter what I did, she’d find something that I supposedly did wrong.”

  Caroline was shaking her head. “Mmm, that’s not good.”

  “Yeah. She was always creating problems where there weren’t any, you know?” I paused. “But I’m not saying I’m perfect or blameless. I worked a lot.”

  “Yeah, but you were on your mission,” Caroline said, opening the oven to take the chicken out.

  “True, but sometimes—Oh, wow, that looks good.”

  “Grab your plate.”

  I grabbed both of our plates and brought them over. “Sometimes I’d go a few days without messaging her. And she wanted to go drinking regularly, but I wasn’t into that. It’s too counterproductive.”

  “How old was she?”

  “Twenty two.”

  “That’s the problem. She was immature.”

  “Yeah. I think I definitely need someone more mature next time.”

  “Probably should.”

  For a moment, there was a silence that seemed pregnant with meaning.

  Caroline checked the clock, then started plating the chicken. “Oh! I need to go in twenty minutes. Let’s eat!”

  I settled at the table with my plate, piled with chicken, potatoes, perfectly cooked carrots from her garden, and gravy.

  “And what about you,” I asked as Caroline sat down across from me, “if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “What, my divorce? Oh, it’s ancient history now. He wasn’t who I thought he was. At all. Turned out he had another family in another town.”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry.”

  “Like I said, ancient history. I moved into this house after the divorce and never looked back.” She gave me a warm smile.

  Then she bowed her head and clasped her hands together, closing her eyes. An earnest frown of concentration came onto her forehead as she said a silent prayer.

  It was adorable. Nobody in my circles ever prayed before a meal, and it seemed so wholesome.

  Taking my first bite of chicken, I was bowled over with how good it was. The meat was flavorful, the gravy delicious.

  “This is perfect,” I said, shoving another bite in my mouth.

  She grinned. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

  She took a bite, then dabbed her lips with her napkin, careful of her lipstick. “So what will you get up to while I’m at my meeting?”