"Look at me, finally spending some of your money," I muse, grinning from ear to ear as we exit the bookshop, my carrier bag slung over my shoulder with eight books both new and old. My hand is threaded back in between Rhodes's as he rolls his eyes.
"That's your money, baby, and I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replies as he guides me on a path down past the Notre Dame towards a square bustling with people.
"I really enjoyed it, it was wonderful," I reply softly as we stand with a group of others, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. His dark green eyes peer down at me, gently sparkling despite the lack of light in the sky.
"I'm glad you came, Paris looks lovely on you," he tells me quietly before the people around us all begin to spill onto the road, carrying us with them to the other side. I'm happy for the distraction as my cheeks burn with his affectionate words.
It's a welcome relief to sit down after all that walking, especially if it's in a beautiful restaurant surrounded by the soft swelling of piano music and comfortable velvet seat coverings.
"Anything catching your eye, bub?" Rhodes asks as we both open up the menus placed in front of us by the young waiter with black greased back hair. Bub, I wonder if that's a nickname that will stick. He's said it once before, and it makes me swoon when I hear him say it. I hope it sticks around, but I don't want to draw attention to it in case he feels like he's revealed too much of himself to me. I don't want closed-up emotionally unavailable Rhodes back; he was an ass.
"Well, most of it's in French, so I have no clue what to get," I sigh and furrow my brows as I try in vain to translate the words in front of me.
"I'll help you, what are you in the mood for?" he asks, raising his eyes up from his own menu as I shrug my shoulders.