A nod to the waitress, her check card placed away. A glance at him, making certain that he did not wish to end the night either.
"Alright, hot fudge filling, gently chilled red wine. Where shall we go?" She asks, curling her right hand at his elbow, those warm fingers brushing the sensitive skin through his shirt. Her keys are slipped into his left hand. Men seemed to like her car, and she was offering to let him drive it.