Great. Now they were talking about love. “Know a lot about sharks, do you?”
“I’ve met my fair share. Even dated a few. You?”
“Sharks scare me, generally speaking. If I sense one coming my way, I’m all about swimming to shore as fast as I can, where it’s safe and secure.”
He studied her so intently she began to wonder if she had food on her face. “You know, that’s at least the third time you’ve mentioned being secure since we got here.”
“Really?” Was that weird, or was it weird that he was keeping track?
He nodded. “Sounds to me like you’ve done a lot of one-and-done kind of dating. True?”
“I... guess.” She wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but instinct told her now was a great time to exercise a little caution. “You could say I’ve had a lot of first dates.”
“Not anymore, you won’t,” came the immediate response, so rock-solid confident she could almost believe he could divine her future. “If you want something to work, you don't just hope for it. You work like hell at it, make it the way you want it to be. The way you fucking dreamed it to be. The one thing you don't do is quit on something that could be the greatest thing that ever hit your life. And in case you haven't figured it out yet,” he added as their waiter approached with a coconut-covered cake in the shape of a heart, “the greatest thing that's ever hit your life is me. All you have to do is give me the chance to prove it to you.”