She shrugged. “He wanted to move a little too fast for me.”

Tucker ground his teeth. Douchebag. “Are you okay?” She seemed okay. Her eyes weren’t red or puffy. She didn’t appear to be angry. “He didn’t… He wasn’t…”

“I’m fine.”

Maybe she was, but it was almost overwhelming how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her right now. She’d been excited about this date, and Cody-the-cockhead had ruined this seminal moment. Tucker shoved his hands on his hips instead.

“You want me to kick his ass?”

That earned him an eye roll. “I’m fine,” she repeated.

“You want to sit? Or you wanna go back to Wade’s?” Tucker didn’t know how to handle this. He’d been braced for tears and confusion when he’d spotted her walking across the street, not stoic acceptance.

“Sit.” She hung her bag and coat off the back of the high stool next to his. “Are you eating these?” She reached for the three cold curly fries he’d left uneaten twenty minutes ago. “I’m starving.”

“You vamoosed before your dinner came?”

She shoved a stone-cold fry into her mouth. “We didn’t order dinner. Cody seemed happy with beer.”

Tucker grimaced. “I’ll get you some more. You want a drink?”

“Sure,” she said around her mouthful. “I didn’t get to finish my piña colada.”

As he made his way to the bar, Tucker was relieved to have something to take his mind off that ass kicking he was desperate to deliver. Thankfully, by the time he got back to Della, his temper had cooled.

“Here.” He placed the frothy concoction in her hand. “Drink up. Fries and cheesy garlic bread arriving soon.”

“Mmm.” She shut her eyes as she sucked on her straw. “Cheesy garlic bread. My favorite.”

Yeah. He took a pull of his beer. Arlo had told him she liked it when she’d first come to town, and Tucker had put it on the bar menu.

“Thank you.” She turned her eyes on him, the mascara on her lashes making them seem bigger and bluer.

Tucker’s heartbeat got loud in his ears again. “It’s just cheesy garlic bread.”

“Not for that. For not saying I told you so.”

“Well…” Tucker shrugged. “No one likes a smartass.”

She grinned and picked up her glass as if to toast him. “I’ll drink to that.” And they clinked.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” She crossed her eyes at him a little and laughed. A slice of her hair fell forward, and she absently pushed it back over her shoulder. “Don’t I look okay?”

Oh man…she looked more than okay. But that was not what she’d meant. “You do, I just…”

She nudged him with her shoulder when he didn’t finish the sentence. “What?”