Nana hugged him, and he had an impression of firm breasts and slim arms and wonderful-smelling hair. And then it was over again, too quickly. He wouldn't have minded more, he thought as she leafed through the book, her expression pleased. He remembered what it had felt like to hold her, to lie against her, to breathe in her scent. It was a good memory.
He picked up his cup again. "You're more than welcome. I thought maybe you might have more of an opportunity to read now. Well, maybe. How is she sleeping?"