That she was still in Trent’s arms was the first coherent thought she had. Her second was that either they had both slept through the alarm, or they hadn’t remembered to set it in the first place. Maggie grinned. Her mind had certainly been elsewhere, and as she recalled, so had Trent’s. Grace’s crib banged again against the wall in the room adjoining the master suite. This time she chuckled. Their littlest human alarm clock was in fine form. Trent groaned. “It can’t be morning. Do you think you could get her to believe it’s not morning yet?” Maggie rolled to her back as Trent propped himself up on his elbow. She smiled as she looked up into his sleepy eyes and ran her hand along his beardroughened jaw. “Not a chance. I’ve learned that you don’t reason about bed with a two-year-old. Besides, in about two more minutes the others will be awake, too. She yawned. “What time is it anyway? Don’t you have to get ready for work?” Trent grimaced. “It’s seven-fifteen, and yes, I do.
