Ford looks back at Bill. Turning his head to look at Bill necessitates turning his head towards Bill's hand. He is not deliberately brushing his face against Bill's hand; it's just sort of happening, unavoidably, a hard-to-detect leaning into the touch.

"Ah, not if you could help it. Not with what you're gambling on this."

His voice has a note of relief: he does feel a little better, thinking about it in those terms. He's still tense, but his brain is chewing on that worry-thread a little less insistently.