Wesley had changed into casual clothes. Standing at the door, he asked, "You ever lock your door?"

Blair answered without turning back, "Not really. It's just you and me here. No one else lives on our floor. Why bother?"

Then, Wesley lectured her as if he were talking to a child. "It's dangerous. You don't know who else might walk in."

"Okay, okay. Fine. Any foods you don't like?" asked Blair as she poured some cooking oil into the wok after putting it on the stove. Before he answered, she muttered, "Probably not. My uncle said one time you guys had to eat grass to survive. I can't even!"

Wesley was reduced to silence. 'Eat grass? What are we? Sheep?'

While Blair was cooking in the kitchen, Wesley looked around her living room. It looked quite safe. Adalson might have helped set the place up. There were even fire extinguishers.

"Can you cook?" Blair turned back and asked out of the blue.

"Oh yeah," Wesley replied, meeting her eyes.

"Well, good." 'Our kids won't go hungry then, ' Blair thought to herself.

By the time dinner was ready, Wesley was watching TV on the couch in the living room. He had a good view of the kitchen from the couch, so he could keep an eye on her that way.

Blair had cooked several dishes, including vegetables and meat dishes. She carried them to the dining room. There was also congee with lean pork and century eggs. The last thing she brought to the table was a stack of pancakes.

Blair ladled two bowls of congee and waved to Wesley with a smile. "Dinner's ready. Come and eat."

Wesley said, "I don't—"

"That's a lot of food. How am I supposed to eat it all? Come on, let's not waste it." Blair interrupted him. She knew he was going to refuse, so she didn't give him the chance to say it.

Wesley rose to his feet and walked to the dining room. "Alright," he said after taking a seat at the dining table. "But don't do this again."

"Okay," Blair replied with a smile.

No doubt she was an excellent cook. She could cook all kinds of dishes. Wesley was a soldier, as efficient at eating as he was at his duties. Blair wasn't even full, but he was already done and put down his chopsticks.

"Um... there's still plenty left. I can't finish it," said Blair, feeling embarrassed. She wasn't lying. Each plate was still half full.

She assumed Wesley was hungry, and that he hadn't eaten like this in a long time. She cooked more food on that assumption.

Wesley was going to bring his bowl and chopsticks to the kitchen. When he heard what she said, he sat back in his seat. "It's fine. Just eat."

Blair had a tiny appetite. After a few more bites, she put down her chopsticks and announced, "I'm full."

Then Wesley served himself another bowl of congee and ate everything that was left on the table.

Afterwards, Wesley did the dishes while Blair cleared the table. He had his back to her. Watching him thoughtfully, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," he answered simply, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment.

"Do you want one?"

"No." 'I work my butt off every day. I don't have time, ' he thought.

"Is there... anyone you like?"

"No." 'I just don't think about it.'

He was so blunt that for a moment Blair didn't know what to say next.

She was starting to feel embarrassed. "Sooo..." Then she paused, playing with her hair. "What kind of girl do you like?" The girl blushed. There was no way she could have looked him in the eye and asked all this.

Wesley paused. "I've never thought about it." 'Women all look the same.'

Blair dropped the rag and walked quietly towards the kitchen. Wesley knew she was approaching the second she had started doing it. He went on washing the dishes.

She leaned on the door to the kitchen, knocked and asked in a low voice, "How about me?"

Confused, Wesley turned around, looking at the blushing woman. "What do you mean?"

Blair bowed her head with embarrassment. "We're both single, so why don't we go out?"

She was quiet, but Wesley heard her clearly. He turned around and continued busying himself with the dishes. "I don't think so." 'I need to stay away. I don't have time for her. It wouldn't be fair to her.'

Blair was incensed, humiliated.

She strode towards him, fists clenched, intending to kick him out. Water had puddled on the floor near the sink. It was a combination of cooking oil, dish soap, and water, and she didn't see it.

Blair was wearing slippers. Once she stepped in the puddle, she slipped. "Aargh!"

She screamed. Instantly, his big hands shot out, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his arms before she fell.

Her body was so soft and she smelled so good, he realized, again. The feelings he kept pushing down deep inside him resurfaced. This was the second time she was in his arms today. And the second time he touched her soft body and smelled her frangrance.

To steady himself, Blair locked her arms around his neck.

At this moment, they were so close to each other, even closer than in the library. Wesley could see that there was a tiny black mole under one of her eyes. Her enchanting scent filled his nostrils.

Romance was in the hair. Her heart was racing. Before Wesley let go, she stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It was a small kiss, but he felt it. Her lips were as soft as her body. He was afraid that if he held her any tighter, her delicate body would snap.

His hands tightened and his jaw hardened; the look in his eyes was fierce. 'He's angry' Blair realized.

"That was for saving me---again."

There were many ways to say thank you. She chose the one that made her the happiest.

Wesley was still tightening his hands around her waist. "Ouch! Let... go!" she cried.

He let go of her quickly, keeping his hands on her shoulder, and stood back from her, at arm's length. "Miss Jing, let's not let that happen again," he warned in a hard tone.

Having been a high-ranking military officer for such a long time, he had been used to giving orders. He talked in an authoritative tone even in front of Blair.

She tilted her head and snorted, "I'm not your soldier. I don't have to follow your orders." 'I kissed you. So now what?'

If Blair were a man, Wesley would have pounded on her or ordered her to do thousands of deep squats.

Too bad for him, she was a woman. A delicate woman, whom he could neither scold not hit. After racking his brains, Wesley made a lame retort. "For uncle Adalson's sake, I'll pretend nothing happened." Then he went back to washing the dishes.

Blair reached for her lips. His warmth lingered there. She smiled and put her hands behind her back, exclaiming, "My Uncle is so good to me. Even when he's not there, he helps me."

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