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."