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Emily is fairly certain that what she's doing counts as an act of sacrilege.
The church is empty; service ended three hours ago, and Jesse is running an errand in town. Cassidy is taking a mid-afternoon nap and probably won't be stirring for a few hours. The kids are with her mother for the day, and she doesn't have to work at the diner until tomorrow morning.
So there's no chance of them getting interrupted, no chance of anyone but God witnessing and judging them. A few months ago, that would have been more than enough to dissuade Emily.
A lot has changed since then.
Tulip's breath is desert-hot against her collarbone, fitting to it like it's been seconds since she last kissed it, rather than almost three weeks. The worn wood of the pews is bruising against Emily's knees, and there's sweat beading on the back of her neck above the collar of her sweater, the nice one that she saves exclusively for Sundays.
"Miss me?" Tulip asks, pressing the words to the base of Emily's throat. Emily nods, gasps into Tulip's hair as Tulip's calloused fingers brush up the inside of her thigh, making goosebumps spring up in their wake. Emily's touched herself there in the time they were apart, at night once the kids were asleep, but it was nothing compared to this, compared to the full body shudder that pulses through her.
"Yes," she sighs, curling her fingers around Tulip's shoulders. "I missed you very much."