He holds a hand up as if solemnly swearing. "Believe me, I'll try not to ever give you a reason. I can't guarantee it, but I'll do my damnedest." Not much with the solemnity, but there was a mild swear in it anyway.

Then at her command (there's that fantasy again where the outlaw is calling the shots), he rises from the table with a stretch and pads over to the bed to pull on his boots. He's...in a pretty good mood, actually. He likes where this whole thing went. She seems pleased with the results. Nothing could possibly ruin things now!

"Um-- can I ask you something?"