One that Timmy sure thought she should take, given his blustering when he spoke.

“That would work,” he hurried. “You would get the discount then, for sure.”

In any other situation, Nell would be polite and decline and go home with her chin raised high and integrity together. But not today. The rain was still pelting the world outside and she was starving. Crying while driving the interstate was king when it came to calorie burning.

So she nodded to Timmy first and then the man with a small, tired smile.

“Okay.”

Nell ignored the rest of the restaurant and settled into the chair the man pulled out for her, arresting jawline sturdy the entire time. When he was settled, he passed her the lone menu.

“The coffee here isn’t too bad,” he said. “I don’t mind getting you a cup if you want. Or sweet tea. That seems to be popular, too.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll just cover my half of the meal.”

He chuckled. “Please, let me at least buy you a drink as a way to say thank you.” Nell arched her eyebrow up in confusion. He continued. “Listening to you was the most entertained I’ve been in a while.”

Again, Nell should have felt the burn of embarrassment, but she was too wet and hungry to sling shame onto the pile.

She snorted. “You can pay for that in coffee then. I need something to warm me up.”

“Deal.”

Timmy sent a waitress over lickety-split. Her name was Rhonda and she didn’t seem amused at all by the performance Nell had just given. She spoke to the man only and, when she left, she gave Nell a severe look.

“And there might be a good chance there’s spit in my potatoes when I get them,” Nell muttered. The man laughed.

“I doubt they’d chance incurring your wrath again.” He leaned over the small table, outstretching his hand. “My name’s Quinn, by the way.”

His hand was freakishly big. Long fingers. Warm palm. The detail of his height belatedly filtered in now that she had accepted his jawline.

Quinn was a tall, sturdy man. Maybe six two, with shoulders for days. Even sitting, he felt a foot taller than her five four. His hand was just a testament to how intimidating he must be to most people.

But not to Nell.

She shook without hesitation.

“Antonella. Most people call me Nell.”

He sat back and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Nell.”

Then Big Man Quinn opened the book in front of him and started reading. Just like that.

Nell felt the first flush of slight embarrassment. Like the man had rejected her and her pride stung from it.

Five hours ago you were thinking about marrying Greg. Rejection or not, who cares? You’re done with men.

The quick mental pep talk was effective. And needed.