Brooks turned on the main light and immediately started moving around the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I set my laptop down on the floor next to my side of the bed.
“Making you something that will help you sleep.” He opened a lower cabinet and pulled out a pot and then went to the fridge for the gallon of milk. “Don’t worry, I can multitask. We can talk while I warm the milk.”
He was beautiful. Large. Inked. Ripped.
Brooks fried my brain.
“So, what were you doing in the bathroom with your laptop? Watching a show?”
“No. I was just trying to organize all of Muddy’s recipes for the day,” I said. “She’s got so much knowledge. I can see this being a multiple-volume cookbook—not to mention the fact that the woman knows all theHints from Heloisetricks.”
“Hints from Heloise? What’s that?” he asked as he poured a cup of milk into the pot.
“Hints from Heloise?It was a newspaper column that started in the ’60s. Heloise gave out lifestyle and home cleaning tips. Likehow to get rid of those pesky insects. Orget the stain out of your lace throw. That kind of stuff. The column is still going, actually.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“My grandmother read the column religiously,” I explained. “Probably why I know about it.”
He turned on the burner and then began opening cabinets, clearly searching for something and not finding it.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“Cinnamon and honey.”
“Cabinet by the stove,” I said.
He crouched down and opened the cabinet door.
“You’re making me warm milk?”
“Yep.”
“Warm milk is gross.”
“And yet millions of people put it in cups with espresso and call it a latte. Right?”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Trust me.”
He stirred in a pinch of cinnamon and a couple of tablespoons of honey and then he poured it into a mug before bringing it to me.
“Where did you learn this little trick?” I asked, taking the offering from him.
“Sometimes, my mom used to make this for me when I was a kid when I couldn’t sleep.”
I held it up to my nose, breathing in the scent of warm milk, honey and spice.
“Did you have trouble sleeping when you were a kid?”
He didn’t reply for a long moment. He just continued to stare at me. “Taste it.”
I took the tiniest sip.
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m surprised.”
