Cook

A part of me didn't want to settle for less, the other part knew I had to.

'Love is something girls hope for when they don't know better, something women long for when they lie awake at night, and something they'll only ever get from their children. Men don't have time for such notions.'

That's what my father always said.

"I won't make you wait for months," I said instead of what I really wanted to say, then I fell asleep.

Fu Shao cancelled his plans for the next day and sent Fu Heng out to do whatever needed to be done.

As a woman in our world, you quickly learned not to ask too many questions because the answers were rarely good.

He got ready first and when I walked into the kitchen dressed and showered¸ he was staring into the fridge with a frown on his face.

"Can you cook?" I snorted.

"Don't tell me you've never made breakfast for yourself?"

"I usually grab something on my way to work, except on the days when Vivian is here and prepares something for me."

His eyes scanned my body. I'd chosen shorts, a tank top and sandals since it was supposed to get really hot today.

"I love your long legs."

I shook my head, then walked toward him to peek into the fridge. He didn't step back and our arms brushed.

This time I managed not to flinch. His touch wasn't uncomfortable and when he didn't startle me, I could actually imagine enjoying it.

The fridge was well stocked. The problem was I'd never cooked either, but I wouldn't mention that to him.

So I grabbed the egg carton and red peppers, and set them down on the kitchen counter. It couldn't be that hard to prepare an omelette. I'd watched our cook a few times in the past.

He leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as I grabbed a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove.

I glanced over my shoulder at him.

"Won't you help me? You can chop the peppers. You know how to handle a knife from what I hear."

That made the corners of his lips twitch but he pulled a knife out of the block and stepped up to my side.

The top of my head came only up to his chest with my flat sandals. I had to admit I kind of liked it. I handed him the pepper and pointed toward a wooden cutting board because I got the feeling that he would have started chopping right on the expensive black granite countertops.

We worked in silence but Fu Shap kept sneaking glances at me. I put a bit of butter into the pan, then seasoned the beaten eggs. I wasn't sure if I needed to add milk or cream, but decided against it. I poured the eggs into the sizzling pan.

Fu Shao pointed his knife at the chopped peppers.

"What happens to these?"

"Oh no," I whispered.

The peppers should have gone in first.

"Have you ever cooked?"

I ignored him and chucked the peppers into the pan with the eggs. I'd turned the stove to maximum heat and soon the hint of a burning smell reached my nose.

So I quickly grabbed a spatula and tried to flip the omelette over, but it stuck to the pan. He was watching me with a smirk.

"Why don't you make coffee for us?" I snapped as I scraped the half burnt eggs from the bottom of the pan.