Shark Strike Survivor

Chapter 18

"Okay, what do we want on our greasy pizza?" Chandler grins as his eyes scan over the topping options that can be placed on the pizza as I do the same with a soft smile.

"Um, I like everything but anchovies, so I am good with whatever you want," I softly reply with a growing smile.

Chandler hums as he thinks before saying; "How about onions, mushrooms, light peppers, Canadian bacon, and pepperoni?"

My face lights up at his choices; "Yummy! All those sound great!"

"Then that is settled," he grins broadly as he and I close our menus, and leave these on the end of the table.

Before either of us can speak, our server arrives to take our order which we give along with our drinks. When the server leaves, we grin broadly at each other as we reach across the table to hold hands on top of the middle of the table.

"What is your favorite color?" I ask with a wider grin.

He chuckles softly; "Light blue, what is yours?"

"Pink," I admit with lightly pink tinted cheeks as I rub my left thumb pad over his knuckles.

"Pink suits you in my opinion," he murmurs, causing my blush to deepen.

"Thank you," I murmur. "What is your favorite snack?"

"Hhmm, that is tricky," he admits as he seriously thinks. "I guess it depends on my mood. If I am happy, I like chips, usually Cheddar and Sour Cream. If I am upset or sad, then I go for ice cream or something sweet. What about you?"

"Um, if I am sad or depressed, I go for ice cream, too," I shyly admit with a shy smile. "If I am happy, I tend to eat the greasiest food I can, like pizza or burgers."

"Interesting," he drawls slowly with a growing grin. "So, does this mean you are happy since we are here having greasy pizza?"

Grinning wider to the point that I am positive my face is gonna split in half, but I do not care; "Yup, very happy."

"Good to know," he says, and I swear his smile might break his face in half, too, if his smile becomes any larger. "I am Cheddar and Sour Cream chips, too."

Yup, there I go into a pile of goo that starts inside my belly. He is gonna make me melt completely into a pile of goop.

"You are gonna make me melt into a puddle of melted goo," I sigh, giving his hands a gentle squeeze that he returns.

"What will I do with myself if that happens to you?" he pouts as he brings me hands up, so he can give each a gentle kiss on the backside. "You give me a lot of tummy butterflies, too."

"What is your ideal date?" he softly asks, not to break our special moment.

"Um, I am not really sure because I have never been on a date before today, or had a boyfriend before you," I nervously answer.

Chandler pouts at me even more; "That is not fair because you are a wonderful person who should have had many wonderful dates, and great partners."

Giving him a half mouth, closed smile; "Thanks for saying that, Chandler. If that happened, then I might not have been available to date the most wonderful man in the world that is sitting across from me."

"Awe, aren't you just the sweetest person I have ever known?" he coos with a wink, but his pink tinted cheeks does not go unnoticed by me.

"Nope, that would be you," I murmur, giving his hands another gentle squeeze as our food and drinks arrive.

We pull back from each other, dropping our arms onto our laps to be out of the way as they place down our drinks first, and then our pizza. We thank them before they reply, and walk away. Grabbing the serving spatula, I serve Chandler two slices of pizza before serving myself two despite Chandler's protests. We spend the rest of dinner talking about everything we can think of while laughing, and having a wonderful time together. When we finish off the entire sixteen inch pizza, Chandler pays, ans we head to the pottery place.

"You asked earlier what my ideal date would be, and I have an answer for you now," I shyly tell him as we look through the options to paint.

"Yeah, and what is that?" he curiously replies as he glances at me briefly before looking back at the options in front of him on the shelf.

"Us spending time together, and we could be doing nothing or something, and that would be the perfect date," I murmur with crimson cheeks. "I know it might sound stupid, but I really think spending time with you is perfect."

Reaching directly in front of me, I carefully take an anime looking baby giraffe statue off the shelf, knowing this is what I want to paint. I realize that Chandler has not spoken, so I look over at him, and he is staring at me in surprise.

"What? Did I say something wrong? Do I have something on my face that should not be there?" I nervously ask in a hurry while rubbing my left hand over my face in case there is something there that should not be.

"Larken, you," Chandler says gobsmacked. "The answer to your questions is 'no'. You are too wonderful beyond words for your answer of what a perfect date is."

"Am not," I mumble with a dark blush coating more of my exposed skin.

Chandler does not comment as he continues to smile over at me before glancing at the statue in my hand. He glances at the shelves again, and carefully takes a different giraffe off the shelf. His statue is a more realistic looking version of the animal.

"Let's go grab paint, brushes, and water, and then find an empty table," he says, taking my free hand in his free hand to lead us to the area we now need.

Best. Date. Ever.