Page 14 of The Cattleman’s Unforgettable Love: Ford and Amelia (MacFarland Ranch #11)

Ford finished the last bite of his sandwich and brushed his fingers off before leaning back on his elbows to stare out at the view.

"You had enough?" Amelia asked.

He nodded.

"Mind if I take the last sandwich, then?"

He chuckled. "Have at it. I'll pack more next time.

" He'd thought that he'd overdone it with the sandwiches, that he'd brought too much food.

But Amelia hadn't been kidding when she said that she wasn't one of those women who only picked at food.

She'd put away as many sandwiches as he had.

He turned to her with a smile. "I should warn you first, though, there's coffee cake in there if you need to save room for it. "

She laughed. "Not a problem. I've got room. Do you want another drink?"

She took a soda out of the cooler and handed it to him, surprising him by opening the can first.

"Thanks."

"What?" she asked. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

He shrugged. "You're not what I thought."

She frowned. "In a bad way?" she asked.

"No, in a good way. I didn't know enough about you, so I guess I kind of slotted you into a box... but you don't fit there." She lay on her side on the blanket that he'd brought and propped her head up on her elbow as she turned to him. "What kind of box did you have me in?"

He thought about it for a moment before he spoke.

"City girl, I guess. No offense or anything.

I mean, you're obviously an intelligent woman, and you've proven several times over that you can step up when there's a crisis.

I just thought you might be more..." He searched for the right word. "Refined," he said.

And the look on her face told him that that wasn't the right word.

She laughed. "You're saying that I'm not refined?"

"No, just that I didn't expect you to be this down to earth. And I like it."

"Okay. As long as you like it, it's all good." She held her pinky finger out as she brought her sandwich to her mouth. "I can try to be more of a lady, if you like."

He laughed. "I never meant that you're not a lady."

She grinned and took a big bite of her sandwich, smiling happily as she chewed.

"You are easy to be around," he said after a little while. "I think that's what I didn't expect."

She held his gaze for a long moment while she finished chewing, then asked, "Were you thinking that there was something about me in particular that I wouldn't be easy to be around?"

He thought he knew what she meant. "You might have a point there. There aren't many people I find it easy to be around."

He frowned, wondering how that made him sound. He needn't have worried.

"Then that makes me happy—makes me feel special." When he looked at her, she was only joking, but he was tempted to agree—to tell her that she was special. But that might be too much too soon.

They stayed that way for a while, enjoying the sounds of the mountain and the view of the lake and the valley beyond it.

Ford couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a day off to go somewhere just for the fun of it.

He glanced over at Amelia, hoping that she might stick around for a while, at least. He could get used to days like this.

"Tell me more about Ford," she asked after a while.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

She sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, tilting her head to the side as she studied him. "Honestly? Everything. I want to know who you are, what makes you tick. I want to know why you're considered the dark and broody one. From what I've seen, you're the sweet and considerate one."

He let out a short laugh. "That's why I said you don't know me very well."

She frowned, and he wondered if he should have kept his big mouth shut.

"But you're not putting on a show for me. I know that much. I read people well, and you are sweet and you are considerate. So... what's the deal?"

He sat up. "I don't know. Maybe you bring out the best in me."

That made her smile. "I hope so," she said. "I like that idea."

"I'm not bullshitting you. It's true. I won't say that I'm intentionally broody, normally, but there's always a lot going on.

Always something to handle with the ranch or the herd or the family.

I usually have a lot on my mind, and everyone else has their own lives they're getting on with, so I hang back and let them do it.

" He paused, wondering if he was saying too much.

He wasn't sure that he'd ever explained himself to someone in this way before – even to himself.

"I don't think I'm intentionally broody.

" He smiled, wanting to lighten the moment.

"Maybe I just have a resting bitch face," he said with a chuckle.

To his surprise, she didn't laugh with him. Instead, she shook her head. "You have a very handsome face. You're a good looking guy."

He shifted his weight and got to his feet. "Tanner's the good looking one in the family."

She stood to join him and put her hand on his arm, just as she'd done earlier in the truck. The feel of her small, warm hand on his skin sent a zap of electricity racing down his spine.

"Of course Tanner's pretty," she said, "but he's nothing like you. You're all muscly and rugged and..."

"I think you'll find Cash is the one who gets described that way."

She scowled. "Why do you deflect so much? Why is it that when I talk about you, you compare yourself unfavorably to your brothers?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out at the mountains. "It's not intentional. It's just that we all have our roles, you know?"

"I can't say I do, but I think I understand." She met his gaze and held it. "Why won't you take a compliment?"

Rather than turning away as he was tempted to, he held her gaze and spoke honestly. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm not used to it."

His heart sank, wondering if he was making himself out to be a loser. To his relief, she smiled.

"Okay, well, thanks for being honest. And now that I know that, I'm going to make it my mission to see that you get used to receiving compliments. You deserve them."

A small smile played on his lips. "Not sure about that."

"Well, I am." She paused. "What's your favorite liquor?"

He gave her a puzzled look. "Excuse me?"

She laughed. "Sorry. It's not as far out of left field as you might think. I had decided that I want to get to know you better. I want to know all the little details about you, and I don't even know what your favorite liquor is."

"Brandy," he told her with a smile.

She smiled back. "So you shared your favorite drink with me the other night."

He nodded. "I did."

"And what kind was it?”

“Rémy Martin."

She tilted her head to the side. "V.S.O.P.?"

"Yeah. Why?" If she was hunting for ideas for a host gift or something, he didn't want her spending money on the expensive stuff.

She shrugged. "Just curious, that's all."

"What about you?" he asked.

"My favorite drink? I enjoyed your brandy. I'm not much of a drinker. I can't say that I really have a favorite, but if pushed, I’d say Rémy Martin."

He met her gaze, and something in his chest felt as though it loosened a little more when she added, "Because it's yours."

It hit him in that moment that this was a date – and he wasn't doing a very good job of it. He was too relaxed. She was too easy to talk to. She felt more like a friend than a date.

She chuckled. "You just had one of those thoughts again, I can tell. Are you weirded out because I copied your favorite drink?"

He laughed. "No, nothing like that." Meeting her gaze, he added, "And I'm not going to tell you what I was thinking. I'd only screw it up."

To his relief, she didn't seem upset by his words. "Fair enough. Do you want some of that coffee cake, then?"

~ ~ ~

By the time they'd made it back down the mountain, Amelia was hoping that she hadn't messed up somehow. She didn't think she had, but they'd agreed that if they enjoyed their day together, they’d figure out where they wanted to go for dinner this evening – and Ford hadn't mentioned it yet.

It struck her that she wouldn't normally be quietly wondering – and if she were honest, worrying – about what a guy was thinking.

She'd just ask. She knew what was different with Ford, though – she wasn't coming right out and asking because she didn't want to hear him say that he'd changed his mind.

Of course she'd be fine if after spending the day with her, he didn't want to go on an evening date.

She'd be fine, but she'd be disappointed.

Maybe the initial attraction had worn off for him. Maybe she should have put in more of an effort. He had said that she wasn't what he expected, and maybe what he'd liked about her was his misguided belief that she was some kind of a lady.

She glanced over at him, and when he turned to meet her gaze, a rush of warmth filled her chest. She wanted to keep getting to know him.

Wanted to go out on more dates with him, spend time with him.

And if she hadn't made the best impression so far, she could make up for it.

She wasn't about to admit defeat just yet.

He chuckled. "Now it's my turn to ask what the look on your face means. You look … determined."

She took a breath and decided to be honest. She could make more of an effort, but she couldn't change her basic nature. She was straightforward, and if he had a problem with that, then there'd be no point.

"That's because I am," she told him. "I'm determined to make you want a second date."

He slowed the truck – which was quite a relief since they'd been bouncing over the track that passed as a road for a while now. When he brought it to a stop, he turned in his seat to face her.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I feel like I messed up somehow today. And I'd like another chance."

He gave her a puzzled smile. "You didn't mess up."

"No?"

"Hell, no. I thought maybe I did."

"You didn't. Why would you think that?"