“The seats are different. I thought they were leather.” My fingers run over the fabric covering the seats. It’s smooth as butter and feels expensive. “They were. I had them reupholstered.” “You did? Why?” I ask, surprised. Callum’s eyes look pointedly at my bare thighs. “Do you like your little dresses?” “Yes, I love them.” “So do I. Now you don’t have to stop wearing your short skirts.” He places a hand on my exposed thigh, giving it a telling squeeze.
