“Thanks,” she told the man as he motioned her to go ahead of him through the door he’d just opened.

“You’re welcome,” he said cheerfully. He had a slight accent. A little Texas twang.

Another set of doors loomed at the other end of the breezeway. As she reached for the handle, a large hand cut her off and yanked the door open.

She glanced up, and smiled. “Thanks again.”

“No problem,” he drawled.

She glanced at her watch as she went through the door. He came through it behind her, obviously going her way. She picked up her pace. She wasn’t quite late getting back to work, but another set of doors lay down the hall and she wanted to reach them first. Not that she was the kind of woman who minded having doors opened for her, but she also wasn’t the kind who believed it was her God-given womanly right. She wanted to balance the scale with this guy.

She glanced over her shoulder, trying not to be too obvious. He was looking around, and not in her direction, so she looked a bit longer than she’d intended. Cute, she thought, though a little rough around the edges. He was far enough behind her that he shouldn’t feel any kind of cowboy obligation to get the door for her a third time; but as she neared the door, she heard his footsteps quicken behind her as he jogged past her to grab the handle.

“After you, ma’am.” He motioned her through with a slight flourish and a little bow.

“Thank you,” she said, and went through the door. This time she stopped on the other side, and turned to look at him. “So, do you want to follow me up to my office and get the door for me there, too?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“No,” she laughed, “I’m just kidding.”

“I’m not,” he said earnestly, though his eyes twinkled.

She stood and stared at him a moment, dumbfounded. Was this guy stalking her? She thought she ought to be at least a little wary, but then he smiled, and put her at ease.

“You’re really not joking, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll open doors for you the rest of your life, if you’ll let me.”

And he did.