Neighborhood Watch [✓ COMPLETE]

3 | 30 Mins or Less

After meeting Denise in the lobby once again and dodging as many questions as possible about the massage, Joelle was back home preparing for her date. She hadn't been on a date in too long and Phil was younger – making her worry about proper etiquette. Phil's generation probably didn't expect much in the way of etiquette, most of her generation hadn't been concerned with it either but Joelle grew up somewhat old fashioned with older than average parents. 

She stood, fresh from a shower, in front of her mirror. A green towel wrapped around her flushed body, pinching between her breasts. She searched her reflection for what Phil had seen. For some reason, he had found something attractive, something she had missed for many years now, something her ex-husband had obviously missed as well. She shook her head, banishing any thoughts of him. Her wet hair was wild around her bare shoulders, water dripping down her neck and chest, rivulets rolling down her spine. 

She tugged the towel apart and unwrapped herself. She hadn't had children yet, so her body was unchanged in that way. She was young enough and active enough that her metabolism hadn't completely failed her. She took care of herself – hair, nails, skin – everything. Why had her ex found her repulsive enough that he had to stray? Joelle wasn't even mad at him or saddened about losing him, instinctively she knew she was better off. She did, however, worry that the problem was her not him. She'd be devastated if her first attempt at intimacy after divorce ended with the younger man appalled by her older body. 

At her dresser, she picked out a black matching bra and pantie set. Black was slimming, it couldn't hurt. Over that she slipped on a white wrap around top, the deep V put her cleavage on display. To finish her outfit she put on dark jeans and gold sandals. She kept her makeup light and her hair fell in natural waves. 

She was as ready as she'd ever be. This was as good as Phil was going to get. And hopefully, they got around to getting it. 

As she crossed her front yard, a bottle of wine clutched in her hand, she tried to will her heart to slow down. Passing out on his porch would not go over well. The steps were swept, not an easy feat this time of year. A lone green plant sat in a plain terracotta pot in the corner between two wicker seats. Joelle had not intended to judge him by his décor, but so far she was mildly impressed with the young bachelor. At least it wasn't a camp chair and empty beer boxes.

She knocked softly. The faint sound of music trickled through the door. She knocked louder and soon she heard footsteps shuffling from the other side. 

The door was flung open enthusiastically, "Joelle." 

"Phil,"

"You look great." He looked her up and down.

He wore a black V neck shirt and tattered (but not trashy) jeans. No shoes. Wonderfully bare feet. Phil had nice feet. That was never anything she had really thought of before. 

"You do, too." She finally answered. 

He stepped back, allowing her to enter. As she passed he placed a hand on the small of her back. Instantly she was on fire again. As cliché as it sounded, that was exactly what it felt like. She knew her chest would be getting red and splotchy because of it. She wanted to turn on him and push him into the closest wall. Only the smell of the food he had obviously been working on held her at bay. Joelle could be civilized and at least do him the kindness of eating before ravishing his body. 

Where had this come from? She never thought like this. 

"I hope you aren't vegetarian or anything."

"No. I love meat." She shut her eyes and breathed through the flash of embarrassment. 

Phil chuckled behind her. "I hope so, sweetheart." His mouth was right at her ear. The scruff from his face brushed against her neck. She knew he must have felt the shutter down her spine.