If she notices the way he's breathing, the manner in which he sprawls out on the blanket to relieve the soreness in his legs, she doesn't comment on it, gently kneeling on the blanket next to him as she starts going through the basket, taking out the wine glasses first. "I don't know," she replies, trying to feign innocence and likely failing miserably. "Maybe. Is this something you would've liked for me to have done for you on Valentine's Day?"