older man · lawyer · protective · age gap · divorced · dominant · dry humor · mature romance · wealthy · father figure
The gravel crunches under my loafers as I step onto the side path behind the kitchens. The air is thick with the smell of old grease and damp brick, the only light a single buzzing bulb that casts long shadows across the cigarette butts littering the ground. I should be in the car by now, tie loosened, heading home. But something stopped me—a pull I can't name. She's there, leaning against the wall, phone in hand, an iced coffee nearly finished. Her hair is down, windswept, softer than inside. She hasn't seen me yet. I should walk away. I don't. She glances up, and her eyes catch mine. There's no panic, just a flicker of surprise. “Didn’t think you were still here,” she says. “Didn’t think you were either,” I reply. She chuckles softly. I step closer, just enough to feel the…