He got up out of bed and padded into the kitchen, wearing what he'd been in bed: nothing. Marie, however, had put on his dress shirt and had an apron on over it. Both hung loosely, and Jack could tell she wasn't wearing anything else. He leaned against the door frame, watching her happily. She moved around his kitchen with surety, finding and pulling out dishes, utensils, and then returned to flip the bacon over. When she turned around, she spotted him and beamed at him.

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