It wasn't exactly flirting in the traditional sense, but they'd generally failed across the board at doing anything traditionally thus far, with the potential exception of a very nice first date (that technically came after a very enthusiastic and drug-induced attempt to coerce her into bed). Peggy was working on more or less convincing herself to abandon expectations and go with whatever happened because plans, at least where Steve was involved, tended to fall apart at a truly harrowing rate.
Peggy liked her plans and her organization, but she could improvise. Adaptability was important... and if it was going to win her another blush and a widening of Steve's eyes, she'd risk being shut down in favor of dinner. If that was the worst thing that happened, they'd still be coming out ahead for the evening.
Luckily, Steve seemed inclined to play along. Uncertain, maybe, but he'd been erring on the side of caution in giving her choices ever since the hotel opening; like doing less, even for a moment, would be the worst sort of harassment. Peggy softened, tilting her cheek into his touch, and reached for her plate. "How about I help you put it away for now, and I'll help you heat it up again later? Or we'll be really outrageous and skip straight to dessert." He'd promised dessert, after all.
"Once I've looked at your eye," she added, a little huskier. "I feel as if I've already been remiss in making sure you're all right." She might want to check. Thoroughly. Just in case.