It was late afternoon, and the sun was starting to dip just low enough to paint the living room in a warm glow. You were sitting on the couch, a half-finished crochet project in your lap, the soft yarn slipping through your fingers as you focused on the familiar rhythm. Emmy was curled up next to you, her little head resting against your arm as she absentmindedly played with one of the yarn tails.

Joe was in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. He’d just come home from his shift, still in his fatigues, but he had that tired, satisfied look that told you it had been a good day.

“Daddy!” Emmy perked up, her sleepy voice suddenly full of excitement. She scrambled off the couch, her tiny feet pattering across the floor as she ran straight to him.

“Hey, princess,” Joe murmured, scooping her up effortlessly. His broad arms wrapped around her, and she giggled as he kissed her forehead.

You glanced over, and your heart did that familiar flutter. He’d taken off his jacket, leaving him in just his gray undershirt that hugged his frame. The outline of his broad chest and sturdy arms was impossible to miss, but it was that comfortable softness around his middle that made you smile. His dad bod—solid and strong, but just the right amount of soft. The kind of body that felt like home when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Daddy’s tired, huh?” You teased softly, setting your crochet down as you walked over.

Joe grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shifted Emmy to one arm. “Always got energy for my girls.”