One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

The attempt at calming myself with counting wasn’t working. It felt the same as counting sheep to fall asleep.

Jessica swallowed and she nervously dropped her gaze back to her plate. She twirled her fork around her food again and slipped it into her plush mouth.

My thoughts were hardly holy at the moment.

I wanted to reach across the table and drag her across it and into my lap. This was madness. I’d always ...