It felt like their first date again, only without the obsessive planning or the fancy clothes or the unresolved sexual tension. Okay, so not really like the first date. He was just picking her up again, which was something he thought he should do more often. There was something fun about waiting for her to answer, wondering what she'd look like tonight.
And the answer to that question was amazing. He whistled low with appreciation, looking her up and down. "Well, I feel like I already am," he said as he leaned a shoulder against her door frame, eyeing her legs, "but if you mean the framed kind on canvas, then yes."