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The sound surprises both of us.

Rhett studies me for a second longer than necessary before pushing away from the wall.

“Take your boots off.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“The ordering.”

“You’re tracking snow through my cabin.”

I glance down.

Okay, fair.

I kick my boots off near the fire while he disappears briefly down the hallway. When he returns, he tosses something toward me.

Thick wool socks.

Dry.

Warm from the fire.

“You keep emergency women’s socks around?” I ask suspiciously.

“No.” He sits on the couch finally. “Those are mine.”

I stare at the massive socks in my hand.

Then at him.

“You’re giving me your socks.”

“You gonna cry about it?”

“You’re weirdly domestic for a man who looks like he fights bears recreationally.”

“Only fought one.”

My eyes widen.

A grin flashes briefly across his face.

“Relax, city girl.”

I point accusingly. “You enjoyed that.”

“Little bit.”

I slide the socks on anyway, and the warmth immediately sinks into my freezing skin.

Rhett watches me the entire time.

Not subtle.

Not apologetic.