The first thing Jake noticed wasn’t her laugh.
It was the way she looked at him.
Lauren was forty-five, newly single, confident in a way that women his age weren’t. She lived two houses down, a friend of his aunt’s, and for months she’d been this subtle, constant presence — little waves when she watered the garden, a quick hello when she jogged past.
Tonight was different.
His aunt had hosted a small barbecue. Most guests left early. Lauren stayed late. Now it was just the two of them, sitting on the back porch under the dim porch light, the soft buzz of crickets filling the silence.
She sipped her wine, eyes lingering on him just a little too long.
“You don’t talk much,” she said finally, her voice low, warm.
Jake shrugged. “Guess I listen better than I speak.”
Lauren smiled faintly, tilting her head. “Good. Then listen carefully.”
She set the glass down, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. The neckline of her loose summer dress shifted just enough to draw his attention without meaning to. Or maybe she meant to.
“You know what age does to a woman?” she asked.
Jake blinked. “I… uh, no?”
Her lips curved. “It makes her stop waiting to ask for what she wants.”
The words landed heavier than the summer heat.
Lauren moved closer on the bench, not touching him — not yet — but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Her perfume was faint, something floral with a deeper undertone he couldn’t name, and it filled his lungs every time he breathed.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she whispered, looking straight into his eyes.
Jake swallowed. “I haven’t—”
“You have,” she interrupted softly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I notice things. And I hate being ignored.”
Another slow-motion moment.
Her hand rested on the bench between them, fingers splayed just an inch from his thigh. He glanced at it, then back at her face.
Lauren followed his gaze, and without breaking eye contact, she shifted — closing that one inch of space. Her fingertips brushed his jeans, light, deliberate, just enough to make his breath hitch.
“Tell me to stop,” she murmured.
He didn’t.
She leaned in, so close he could feel the heat of her breath against his cheek.
“See,” she whispered, “that’s the thing about getting older. Desire doesn’t fade. It sharpens.”
Jake’s chest rose and fell faster, his knuckles gripping the bench edge. “Lauren…”
Her name sounded different on his tongue, heavier, almost reverent.
She searched his face for a moment, then brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing the line of her neck. The movement was small, casual — but the effect was anything but.
The porch light hummed above them, moths circling in lazy patterns. Somewhere down the street, a car door slammed, but it felt miles away.
Everything slowed down.
Lauren shifted even closer until their knees touched. Her hand found his, resting lightly on top, thumb tracing absent circles. He glanced down, and she caught the motion immediately.
“Relax,” she whispered. “I know what I want.”
Her other hand rose, fingertips grazing the side of his jaw, pausing just under his ear.
“You feel that?” she asked softly.
He nodded, unable to form words.
“That’s not hesitation,” she breathed. “That’s want.”
For a long second, neither moved. The silence stretched — tight, heavy, expectant.
Finally, Jake let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “This is… complicated,” he said quietly.
Lauren smiled faintly. “Complicated doesn’t mean bad.”
She pulled back just slightly, her gaze steady, daring him to close the distance she left.
He did.
Afterward, they sat in the quiet, the porch light still buzzing softly overhead. Lauren pulled her knees up, hugging them loosely, staring out at the dark yard.
“You’re thinking too much,” she said finally, glancing at him.
“Probably,” Jake admitted.
“Younger men always do,” she murmured, half-smiling. “You don’t have to. Not with me.”
He looked at her, really looked — at the faint laugh lines around her eyes, the calm certainty in her posture, the quiet way she carried her want without apology.
And he understood.
Age didn’t make her hesitate.
It made her demand more.