"Where did you learn how to cook?" Emma asked Derek, sighing in satisfaction as she ate in relish, the last batch of the spaghetti on her plate.

She had watched in awe as he traisped around the kitchen, putting things in order like he was born into it. He had also coached her, as he did the cooking. And now, munching the last of the spaghetti on her plate, she concluded that she preferred his cooking to Clem's; maybe because he was boyfriend. She didn't care though.

"From my ...