“Do me a favor,” she asked him. “Don’t ever go trying to tell me that you’re not sweet. You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I wanted to make sure that today’s a good day for you.”
She wanted to reach over and touch his arm, but she wasn’t sure – so she didn’t.
“Well, you’ve succeeded,” she told him. “I don’t mind what we do; I just love that you put so much thought into it.”
“I don’t believe that you have no preference between hiking and a driving tour.”
“You’re right. I’d love to hike and I have my boots on just in case. But I’m thinking of you. From what the guys said, it sounds as though you don’t take many days off. If you’d rather drive and take it easy, then I don’t want to take you tramping around the mountains.”
His eyes looked a brighter green when he turned to smile at her.
“Now who’s being sweet?” he asked.
She laughed. “Just considerate.”
“Exactly! When I’m considerate, you call it sweet. Why doesn’t it work both ways?”
“I suppose it might. I just never really thought of myself as sweet before.”
“Then that makes two of us,” he said with a smile. “And to tell you the truth, as much as I appreciate you thinking of me, I’d hate to waste a day off by sitting on my ass – even if I do get to spend it in the truck with you. So, let’s hike. It’s an easy trail, the one I’m thinking of.”
“Thanks,” she told him. “I want to protest and say that I’m up for more than that – but I think this first time, I’ll just roll with it until I see what your idea of easy is.”
He glanced over at her as he turned the truck off the highway onto a gravel road.
“This first time?” he asked with a smile. “Are you saying there’s hope that I might get a second date?”
This time she did reach across and rest her hand on his arm. “I’m telling you that I’m hoping there’ll be a second one.”
“Me too.”
Half an hour later, Ford looked back over his shoulder at her and stopped walking. "You doing okay?" he asked.
"I'm good," she said, hoping that he wouldn't notice just how out of breath she was.
He frowned. "Am I going too fast? I thought I was doing okay."
"You're doing fine," she assured him. "It's me. I'm even more out of shape than I realized."
"You're not out of shape. You're in great shape." From the way he let his gaze travel over her, there was no question that he believed what he was saying. He pursed his lips when he finally met her gaze again. "I just didn't register how short you were."
She let out a short laugh. "And here I was thinking that I'm no good at the flirting thing."
"Shit. I'm sorry, I..."
"It's okay, I'm not offended," she told him. "I think normally I would be, but coming from you, I know it's just the truth. How tall are you, anyway?"
"Me?" he asked. "I'm six-three."
She nodded. All the MacFarland brothers were tall. She didn't know if he was the tallest, but he certainly seemed that way because he was bigger than the others – broader. He was all power and muscle, a heavier build than any of them. Well, except Cash.
"How tall are you?" he asked.
"Five-five," she told him. "So not all that short, really."
He gave her a rueful smile. "Not until your little legs have to try and keep up with someone who's almost a foot taller."