He half-grins at her remark, and then the smile warms up at the rest of her actions, watching as she guides Rocky into searching their temporary home so he doesn't have to. She's such a dog mom and doesn't even know it; and he's sure as fuck not going to tell her and risk throwing it off. When she starts to move furniture back inside, he spurs into action to help even knowing full well she doesn't need it, just to speed things up more than anything. With that done, he sets the rescued bottle of whiskey on the table for her and abandons his jacket on the arm of the couch before going to crouch by the fire to get it started.

"Can you check on his water?" Frank asks while deep in the throws of his task, not realizing he's asked her to help him in a few short hours more than he ever has before, like all of a sudden he's no longer walking on eggshells every time they're together. Later he might realize it and start fucking up again, but for now he feels relaxed and on task.