The Way to Her Heart Read Online Free PDF

large knife.
    She approached hesitantly. “Okay, now what?”
    He showed her how to hold the knife and slice the stem and top from the vegetable and pull off the tough outer leaves. He handed her another artichoke while he dealt with his and several more, then placed them all in a steamer basket over boiling water. “I’ll whip up the dipping sauce, and then we can make a grocery list while the artichokes steam.” She wiped her hands on the towel he provided and returned to her barstool. “Here.” He placed a small plate of cookies in front of her. “To tide us over until the rest is done.” He flashed those dimples again, wreaking disaster on her equanimity.
    She forced herself to look away and grabbed one of the cookies, biting into the crispy, buttery treat. It was delicious, of course, with lots of dark chocolate—her favorite—and pecans. “These are really good. Thanks.” It wouldn’t hurt to be polite since they’d be working together for the next six weeks. “Did you make them?”
    He nodded as he spooned the onions and garlic into a food processor. He added something white and creamy—yogurt? Sour cream?—then topped it off with chopped parsley and a small amount of red chile powder. He pulsed the processor several times.
    “You really like cooking, huh?” She thought it was unusual for a teenage boy to be into cooking, especially one so good-looking and popular.
    He didn’t answer while he poured the smooth mixture into a bowl. He set it in the refrigerator and sat down across from her. “Yeah, I like cooking,” he said quietly and bit into a cookie.
    “So, your dad’s a chef too? Did he teach you?”
    He seemed to have trouble swallowing and took a drink before answering her. “Yeah, my dad taught me.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, let’s get started on our grocery list, okay?”
    It was clear he didn’t want to talk about his dad, and Bernie realized he probably wasn’t around anymore. She knew how that felt, so she left it alone. It really wasn’t any of her business, anyway. “So, a week’s worth of groceries. Um, bread? Milk?”
    He typed her suggestions on the list he had started on his laptop. “Here, check this menu I put together. If you like it, I’ve already added the necessary ingredients to our list.”
    She looked over the proposed menu, her eyes nearly bugging out at the array of delicious food he had planned. “Can we afford all this?”
    “Sure. There’s still some money left in our weekly food budget, so pick some things you like. What do you like for breakfast? And lunch?”
    Anything that’s not from the school cafeteria. “I don’t know? Um, scrambled eggs?” What she wouldn’t give for a plate of fluffy eggs with ketchup slathered all over them. And cheese. Her mom used to make that for her when she was little.
    He smiled at her briefly before adding extra eggs to the list. They spent a half hour polishing their list before he stood to take the artichokes out of the steamer. He placed one on a platter with a small ramekin of dipping sauce and set it on the counter between them.
    She stared at the appetizer, unable to fathom how to eat it. She watched as he plucked a leaf and dipped it in the sauce, then scraped the tender meat off with his teeth. She hesitantly followed suit and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. The dip was slightly tangy with a hint of spicy heat from the chile and highlighted the mild flavor of the artichoke.
    “What do you think?” he asked.
    “It’s good. I’ve never tasted an artichoke before. The dip is really good.”
    “Yeah? It’s my own recipe. Maurice liked it too. He made it part of the appetizer special at the restaurant.” He smiled and shrugged, seeming a bit embarrassed to be tooting his own horn.
    “Hey, that’s great. Congratulations.” She liked hearing about his success, especially since he seemed so pleased by it.
    “Thanks, Bernie. Hey, I meant to ask you about your name. It’s kind of