“Of course.”

“On Tinder?”

“Yeah. Even on Tinder.” He placed his beer down carefully and leaned forward on his elbows, glancing sideways at her. “Have you thought about being up front about your background…about what you’ve been through in the past? Right out of the gate? It might help a guy understand you wanting to go a little slow.”

Della blinked. What the what? “You want me to tell a guy on a first date that my ex used to abuse me, but it’s okay because he went to prison and now he’s dead?”

“Well…maybe not in those words.”

She gaped at him. “No one’s going to stick around after that.”

He shrugged. “You might be surprised.”

“Sure, the freaks who like broken chicks or the guys who like to fix women. I don’t want to be pitied or…stigmatized, Tuck. I just want to be like every other millennial female out there trying to have some fun. Not…damaged goods. I’m tired of feeling like that.”

He shifted the weight off his elbows as he sat back in his chair, a hand absently rubbing along his jaw. The scratchy noise went straight to Della’s nipples, causing them to pucker. How could she be annoyed at him and turned on by him at the same time?

“Fair enough,” he said.

Della nodded, then reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “Now, let’s see what Tinder has on offer tonight.” She opened the app to find Xander staring back at her. He was in supertight athletic gear that left nothing to the imagination, his feet apart, his hands on his hips, and his chest puffed out like Buzz freaking Lightyear.

“Your parents will love me,” Della read. “Your neighbors won’t.”

She turned the phone to show Tucker, who winced. “You can practically see that dude’s religion.”

Della laughed and swiped left.

…

On Thursday morning, Della and Ruth were chatting on their way to the staff room for their break when they heard a very loud “Psssst, Della” as they were walking along the path outside Ray Carmody’s villa. Looking over her shoulder, she saw his head sticking out his door and his hand gesturing her over.

She turned to Ruth. “Can I catch up with you later?”

Ruth nodded good-naturedly. “I’ll save you a donut.”

Thursdays were donut day, and Della was usually first in line. “I’ll love you forever,” she said, giving Ruth’s arm a quick squeeze before wandering over to Ray.

“Everything okay, Mr. Carmody?” she asked as he opened the door wide enough and indicated for her to enter.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, you old fool,” Bob Downey grouched. He was sitting on a chair by the window.

Della’s gaze swept the room, coming to rest on the bed, where a pile of clothes had been haphazardly laid out. “Are you culling your closet?”