He knows he's going to have to cut it short and let her get back to her job before she gets in trouble. It's slow, but still. She's getting paid, and she's on the clock.

César snerks loudly. "Okay, okay, we should probably save the bone jokes into we're in private. But more importantly, before I forget—I got help in finding enough ingredients to make us a decent Valentine's Day lunch or dinner, and I got you a couple of gifts. My townhouse is clean enough I can actually let you see it and cook for you. If you've got a few hours?"

Book-ending that so it's obvious he's not expecting her to sleep over. Keeping her independence.