Exactly thirty minutes later, the faint, comforting aroma of toasted grain and warm milk began to drift up the staircase, winding its way through the open doorway of the bedroom.
Jillyanna, who had spent the last half-hour buried under her heavy duvet in a state of quiet, brooding frustration, felt her stomach give a betrayal of an audible rumble. Her nose twitched. The fragrant scent wafting through the room was irresistible—a rich, savory rice porridge infused with ginger, toasted garlic, and a hint of sesame oil, accompanied by the sweet, comforting smell of steamed milk. Unable to fight her basic instincts, she tossed back the heavy blanket, pushed her disheveled hair out of her eyes, and swung her legs off the mattress just as Travis stepped through the door.
He was carrying a dark wooden tray bearing a steaming bowl of rice porridge garnished with finely chopped scallions, a glass of warm milk, and a small dish of pickled vegetables.
