Since the music coming from the car’s radio was set at a low volume (though still loud enough to know what tune was being played) Paul distinctly heard her stomach grumble for sustenance.  Had her vehicle of choice been a muscle car, he doubted he would have been able to pick up her tummy’s rumble.  Alas, her VW’s engine note purred like a kitty cat during an extended petting session.  He was also aware that most people, himself included, were usually embarrassed at their stomach’s audible betrayal.<br/><br/>Charlette made light of it with a laugh and a light blush.  Still, he wished to put her further at ease.  “I heard that,” he said while chuckling.  “And that’s okay, cuz you should be hungry.  Moving is so stressful as it is.  There’s the packing, the loading, the unloading, then the unpacking.  So yeah, you should be famished and I’m glad to know that you are.”  Point made, his eyes returned to the road, as there wasn’t much farther to go now.<br/><br/>Pulling into a parking space, the eatery’s tempting odors began their assault on his nostrils.  As Charlette fumbled with her seatbelt, he removed himself from the driver’s seat and traversed his way to her side of the car.  Thankfully, she didn’t drive an old-school Cadillac, so the ground for him to cover was not very much.  Holding her door open, he waited for her to join him on the pavement.  With the height advantage, her peekaboo cleavage was difficult to miss.  Dammit, he silently cursed.  Even when he tried not to look, there was some body part of hers presenting itself in all its glory.<br/><br/>The red VW now locked, the pair headed inside for some much-anticipated refreshment and nourishment.  Seating themselves in a booth, Charlette, of course, sat opposite of him.  Her feminine loveliness on full display, Paul figured this was gonna be a potentially difficult and trying next two hours or so.  He seriously wondered if she’d notice if he stared at the jukebox in the corner the entire evening.  Nah, that wouldn’t fly, he correctly deduced.<br/><br/>Paul ordered his beverage of choice, while she did the same.  After extensive perusal of the menu (and much back-and-forth banter), they eventually agreed on a deep-dish combo pizza.  Charlette shot him a raised brow when she heard him order a small, an expression he definitely noticed.  No sooner had the waitress left their booth that he decided to explain his choice of a small instead of another size.  With a knowing smile, he stated, “Their small deep-dish comes in six slices.  And when they say deep-dish, they mean deep-dish.”  For added emphasis, he held his right index finger and thumb about two inches apart.  “Trust me, Charlette, way before we’re done here tonight, your tummy will cease its grumblings real quick.  Guaranteed.”  He laughed while gazing into her eyes, as that seemed to be the safest port of call.  Other than that, it was her ears, her nose, her . . . Eyes it is then!