Page 112 of Bellini Bound

“A lot of deep pockets in this room. I’m sure you’ll get there,” I said as Allie found her way back to my side.

Hawthorne’s eyes lit up when they landed on her. “And who is this?”

My grip tightened on Allie’s hip, hard enough that the tiniest whimper sounded.

She’s not for you; that’s for damn sure.

With my jaw clenched at the appreciative gleam in his gaze, my wife decided to introduce herself. “Allie Bellini. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Bellini?”

“That’s right,” I gritted out. “Allie is my wife.”

“Lucky man,” he muttered.

A cocky smirk found its way onto my face. “I sure am. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Allie peeked back as I led her away. “That is one handsome man.”

My steps faltered as I whipped my head around to give her a stern glare. “Excuse me?”

“Just an observation.” She shrugged, turning her attention back to me. “Heard he’s going to be looking for a wife before he makes a run at the presidency.”

I scoffed. “You’re already taken.”

She rolled her eyes. “Did I say that I was interested?”

“He was.”

Head tilting to the side, she surveyed me through narrowed eyes. “You’re in a mood tonight. Almost like you’re so primed for a fight that you don’t care who the other participant is. What’s going on?”

Running a hand down my face, I breathed out, “Nothing.”

Allie pursed her lips. She saw right through me, just like she always did, but this wasn’t the time to explain that I had a sneaking suspicion that something was going down tonight. I just didn’t know what, or worse, when. So yes, I was on high alert, borderline agitated, which made me a ticking time bomb—the tiniest thing had the potential to set me off.

Thankfully, she let the subject drop as we reached our designated table. “How about I grab us a couple of drinks?”

“I can get them,” I began to protest, but she silenced me with a finger placed over my lips.

“Sit.” My wife practically shoved me onto a chair. “Take a deep breath.”

My lungs filled with air.

“Now, take another one,” she coached, and I repeated the process.

Instantly, some of the tension left my shoulders where her hands were placed.

“Keep breathing, and I’ll be right back with a scotch.” Allie kissed the side of my head.

I held up two fingers. “Make it a double.”

“Got it.” Her voice floated further away as she acknowledged my request.

While she was gone, I gave myself a mental pep talk.

Calm your ass down. If you get too amped up expecting something to go wrong, you’re going to become the reason that it does.

The internal speech should have been enough to convince me to mellow out, except for one thing: my gut was never wrong.