But it’s brief. “She’s my wife,” I say under my breath as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of me.
“And what am I?” Amara asks, turning to face me. She doesn’t even bother to be discreet about it. But honestly, I don’t really care right now. It’s not as if we aren’t allowed to speak.
As soon as our eyes lock, as I get a full frame of her heart-shaped face, her honey-colored eyes, her dark hair that’s straight and tucked behind her ears, her plum-colored lips.
I want to grab her. I want to pop her up the bar, spread her legs, and show her and the entire goddamned room just what she is.
Who she is.
Who she belongs to.
Obviously, I can’t do that. At least not now.
Instead, I flag down the bartender. “Add another shot of bourbon to this,” I say, pointing at my old fashioned.
He looks down at it and then back up at me. “It’s already a double, sir.”
I stare at him with enough heat to melt the metal in his nose ring. I get that he’s a bartender, but this isn’t exactly a dive bar. I set a mental reminder to fire whoever fired him. Not so much for the nose ring but because he’s questioning my drink order.
“I’m aware,” I growl.
“Right. Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” he stutters as he grabs the bottle and adds a five-second pour, which is over a shot. Smart man.
While I tip the glass to my lips, Amara pipes up again. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“You know that I can’t answer that.”
Half a second later, Jenica is standing at my side, squeezing her way between Amara and me.
“Can’t answer what question?” she asks with a smile that could kill.
“I was just boring him with work details,” Amara says, and Jenica looks at her. They’re both smiling. Both glaring. It’s a regular stand-off, and it’s also getting way too hot in here for my taste.
Finally, Jenica drags her eyes back to me.
“Ransome, darling, what is keeping you? I’ve been waiting for my drink.” She makes a point of looking over at Amara as she asks the question.
“They made my drink wrong and I had to order another,” I lie. Well, it’s not entirely a lie. He did make it right, but once I got up here, I needed more.
“Well, it looks like the mistake has been fixed.” She snakes an arm around my waist, putting even more distance between me and Amara. “We can go back to the party now. Where we belong.”
My jaw clenches as the air between the three of us grows thicker. But Amara stands up, fake margarita in hand, and smiles at us. It’s painful how well she’s hiding her true emotions. Because I know her. Inside, she is doing anything but smiling.
“Enjoy the party,” she says.
“Where are you going?” I demand.
Jenica’s eyebrows perk in surprise. I know I’m going to get an earful later, but I don’t give a shit.
“A walk,” she answers. “The further along I get, the harder it is to sit still.”
“You do look like you’re about to pop,” Jenica says. “And I’m sure it’s good to exercise. I can only imagine how hard it will be to lose the baby weight.”
I half-expect Amara to snap at her. Hell, with her spicy track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if Amara slapped her.
But instead, her face lights up in surprise.
“Oh! He kicked,” she says as she places a hand on her belly. Jenica’s entire expression drops, and Amara’s grin widens. “It’s the wildest thing, feeling someone’s baby grow inside you. There’s really nothing like it.”
