Daddy's Summer Secret
Emma had just turned 22 when she came home from college for the summer. Her father, David, was 45—still fit from years of weekend hikes and manual work around the house. His wife, Emma’s mother, had left years ago, leaving the two of them in the big quiet house on the edge of the woods. They had always been close, but something had shifted in the last few years. Lingering hugs. Long looks. Words left unsaid. One humid July night, the power went out during a thunderstorm. Emma wandered downstairs in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, her nipples faintly visible through the thin fabric. David was in the living room, lighting candles, wearing only loose gray sweatpants. The flickering light danced across his bare chest. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, voice low. She shook her head and sat beside him on the couch. Their thighs touched. Neither moved away. The rain hammered against the windows, masking the sound of her quickening breath. “I’ve been thinking about you,” Emma whispered. “More...
