♦Zach's POV♦
"So what would you like to order?" I ask, peering at her over the edge of my menu.
She laughs at this. "Why? Are you my waiter?" She asks coyly.
"I could be." I shrug seriously. "I'd look dashing in a chef's uniform."
She laughs harder at this. "Chefs don't wait tables." She points out.
I shrug again. "I'd cook only for you."
More of that crazy blushing, it can't be comfortable to have so much blood in your face all the time.
"Can you cook?" She suddenly asks, her dark green eyes twinkling.
I look up from my menu, deciding on the sweet and spicy grilled salmon. "A little."
"That's so cool, I don't know how." She shrugs absently. "We were never allowed in the kitchens."
"Even in Brenton?" I ask, not really surprised, just curious. They were basically royalty, it wasn't surprising that this would happen.
"Yeah."
"Picked out what you want yet?" I ask again, closing up the menu and placing it on the table.
