Maeve's POV.
I noticed the boots first.
They were by the door, placed neatly, toes aligned like he’d done it without thinking. Not tossed off. Not careless. Just… there. Like he expected to leave at any moment, or like he didn’t believe he had the right to settle in.
That annoyed me more than if he’d acted comfortable.
Aaron Merrick stood near my kitchen counter, sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark shirt still crisp despite the long day. He wasn’t touching anything. Not the kettle. Not the cupboards. Not even the chair beside him. Just standing there, eyes moving quietly through the room like he was mapping exits, corners, lines of sight.
My house wasn’t a battlefield.
I cleared my throat. “You can stop scanning. No one’s hiding in my cabinets.”
His head turned immediately. Not sl
