Greg didn’t know which was worse, having Jessica’s long legs out in plain view, or having her wrapped up in the green-and-gold quilt, her sleep-tousled hair the color of the sun, and clutching her mug of cocoa like a life preserver. It was impossible that someone could look so good right after they woke up. It made it far too easy to imagine waking up next to her the morning after; then the one after that and…
Mrs. Baxter came back out of the door and dumped a handful of tiny marshmallows into Jessica’s mug. She looked up at her mom with the radiant smile of a woman who loved her mom with all of her heart.
He knew—in that single flash of an instant he knew—that no matter what real-world facade of disaffected urbanite she wore, Jessica Baxter would do anything for her mother. She’d just r
