Chapter 142

Emma tilted her head up, watching Abigail with that quiet smile she only gave when her thoughts were turning over something. Her eyes were soft, glowing in the low light.

“Baby,” she said gently, her voice calm but carrying a note of intention.

Abigail turned her head, brushing her fingers along Emma’s arm. “Yeah, baby?”

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Emma’s tone was playful, but there was something tender behind it.

Abigail’s lips curved. “Of course. Anything you need, baby.”

Emma shifted, sitting up just a little. Her hand slid onto Abigail’s thigh, her thumb tracing slow circles there as she leaned forward. The touch made Abigail’s breath catch — not from surprise, but from the way Emma always knew how to ask for things without saying much at all.

Emma met her eyes, her voice quiet but full of warmth. “Take a shower with me.”

Abigail blinked, then smiled — soft, amused, and completely smitten. “A shower?” she teased, tilting her head. “Right now?”

Emma nodded, her lips curling into a small, knowing grin. “Mhm. Right now.”

Abigail let out a slow breath, the edges of a laugh tugging at her mouth as she looked at her at the way Emma’s eyes shone when she asked, at the gentle weight of her hand resting on her thigh.

She reached up and brushed her thumb across Emma’s jaw, her voice low but filled with warmth. “You don’t even have to ask twice.”

Emma’s smile deepened, her cheeks glowing as she stood and held out her hand. “Then come on, Daddy,” she said softly, her tone teasing but affectionate.

Abigail took her hand without hesitation, rising from the couch and following her toward the bathroom. The lights were low, the air warm with steam from when Emma had already started the water. She turned to look at Abigail with that same gentle smile a mix of love, trust, and something deeper.

Abigail stepped closer, tucking a curl behind Emma’s ear before kissing her forehead. “You’re lucky I can’t ever say no to you,” she whispered.

Emma smiled against her chest, her voice light. “I know.”

Steam curled around the bathroom, gathering on the mirror and drifting through the amber light like a soft veil. The air was warm, thick with the quiet rhythm of running water. Emma stood beneath the stream, her shoulders glistening as it poured down over her. Her hair clung to her skin in damp curls, and when Abigail stepped in behind her, the space seemed to draw tighter—more personal, more sacred.

Abigail reached out, letting her fingertips trace the path of a droplet down Emma’s spine before her hands settled at her waist. The touch made Emma inhale sharply, then melt back against her. The sound of her breathing, steady and soft, mingled with the hush of water.

“I didn’t think something as simple as this could feel so good,” Emma whispered.

Abigail smiled against the back of her neck, her lips brushing lightly over wet skin. “It’s not simple,” she murmured. “It’s you and me.”

Emma turned slowly in her arms, their movements unhurried, deliberate. The water flowed between them, over them, making their skin glisten in the golden light. Abigail’s eyes softened when she saw Emma’s face up close—the curve of her lips, the tiny droplets clinging to her lashes.

“You’re beautiful,” Abigail said, her voice low, almost reverent. “You always are, but right now…” She trailed off, shaking her head with a faint laugh.

Emma’s fingers came up, brushing along Abigail’s jaw. “You make me feel beautiful,” she whispered back.

Abigail leaned down and kissed her—slowly, deeply, their mouths meeting like they’d been waiting for this quiet space all day. The water cascaded around them, filling the silence with a steady, soothing rhythm. Emma’s hands found Abigail’s shoulders, her touch light but full of emotion, while Abigail’s palms skimmed along her sides, memorizing every curve, every breath.

The kiss deepened for a moment, then softened again, turning into small, lingering touches—little reminders that neither of them needed to rush.

When they finally pulled apart, Emma rested her forehead against Abigail’s chest. The rise and fall of her breathing matched Abigail’s heartbeat. “You always know how to calm me down,” she said softly.

Abigail’s fingers combed through her hair, gentle and patient. “That’s because I know what you need,” she whispered, kissing the top of her head. “You’ve got so much on your mind. You deserve to just… be here. No worries, no stress. Just us.”

Emma looked up, her eyes shining through the steam. “You really mean that?”

“I always mean it,” Abigail said. “You and this little one come first.” She pressed a hand softly over Emma’s stomach, and Emma covered it with her own, smiling through the water.

They stayed that way for a while, not saying much more—just small touches, soft kisses, and the quiet warmth that came from being completely seen and loved.

When the water began to cool, Abigail reached out to turn it off. She grabbed a towel and gently wrapped it around Emma’s shoulders before pulling her close. “You’re perfect,” she murmured against her temple.

Emma smiled sleepily, her fingers brushing Abigail’s arm. “You make me feel like I am.”

Abigail kissed her cheek, then her lips once more. “Let’s go to bed, love.”

They stepped out together, still damp and laughing softly as they crossed into the dim bedroom. The air smelled faintly of soap and warmth, and the bed looked like an invitation. Abigail pulled Emma close once more beneath the sheets, holding her until her breathing slowed into steady, peaceful rhythm.