Ron looked down at her, wanting to debate with her, but this was not the place, with ears everywhere to get into it. He made a small face, and nodded in agreeance. He looked, and caught sight of Harry behind them. Ron said, over some people's heads, "Do you want me to get you something, and you score us a table?"
The place was filling up, and Ron hoped they could find a place to sit inside, as opposed to out. This was a Muggle place, and they didn't have cooling spells on the outdoor tables. As Hermione approached the counter, Ron reached down and got a tray for her, and one for himself. He reached for the cutlery and knapkins as well. He was ready to order for her, but fell silent, knowing that might cross the line.
He felt protective towards her; their intimacy had only strengthened his protective nature towards her, even if it was an experience they would never repeat. He loved her, even if he had made a complete and utter mess with the jokes. He had thought she would join in; he should have known better. He felt protective of her, and was upset with himself for not realizing that his plan would make her more upset than humored.