It surprised the hell out of him when Jasmine stood up and actually asked to cook for him that Weston had to think for a moment. For a moment he had given her a blank look but then managed a small smile, chuckling softly, face turning a light shade of red. Had he heard her correctly? She wanted to cook for him? He couldnâ€™t help but feel a little uneasy; he was use to being the one who cooked for his guests and women especially. Cooking for a woman was just something he felt was chivalrous and he never really accepted a woman to cook for him. Not even his fiancÃ©e would cook unless she was really worried that he might blow up the kitchen. He had never once destroyed a kitchen but he has produced some questionable concoctions whenever what little cooking skills he had decided to fail him.<br/><br/>Despite his thoughts, however, somewhere in the back of his mind he enjoyed the thought of a woman in the kitchen. It was just a man thing. Most women had said this to him numerous times; there was a chance that it was finally starting to get to his head. Men and their egos, right, their stereotypes of women never seemed to fade. It was probably a subconscious part of their nature.<br/><br/>Who didnâ€™t like to be spoiled? He certainly was someone who liked to be spoiled here and there, â€œYou know what, knock yourself out. I donâ€™t have much but feel free to help yourself,â€ he said as he went to sit back on the couch. While she was cooking he would take a deeper look into what he wanted to wish for. Being spoiled along with relaxing came to mind but he pushed the thought out of his mind as there were things he wanted more. Having a personal servant would be nice, he would not deny that, but it just didnâ€™t really suit him. In his mind he was perfectly fine taking care of himself, and it was pretty creepy having someone coming to the house every day something might get stolen, cooking and cleaning up after himself, he was fine as he was without a maid.<br/><br/>Alone was how he would live until he found another woman more than willing to sweep him off his feet.<br/><br/>Weston sank back against the couch and closed his eyes while he was deep in thought. Those wishes were going to be on his mid for awhile. The more he thought, the more it almost entertained him. Perhaps he was just bored and wanted something to think about other than his usual boring thoughts running through his mind whenever he came home after work. Or maybe he really did want to wish for something. Three wishes. That really was not enough but he would not get greedy. Wishing for more wishes probably was out of the question, though part of him did want to ask just to see if it was possible.