He would protest that he wasn't laughing at her if he knew that she was thinking that. Sadly, he doesn't. He thinks the world (or even the galaxy) of her and the last thing he would want to do is belittle her. The laugh was a tool. Something he's used in the past to try to smooth out the slightly awkward moments in conversation.

As it is, by now she knows that he's a man who doesn't chuckle or laugh very much and she seems to be letting it slide. He would appreciate that too.

He's known for a long time her smile is lovely, but less often does he see her blush. It's very fetching on her. It reminds him that he ought to tell her just how remarkable he thinks she is. "So pretty." He says, in the honey coated murmur that sometimes gets into his voice when he's talking to her. "Being around you makes me feel awfully lucky. Do you know that?"