Ace's POV
I turned toward Ovelia at Ann's shout, just in time to see her stumble. I rushed to her side, instinctively catching her before she could fall.
"Ovelia, are you really okay?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.
She gazed up at me, her hand gently cupping my cheek. With a light-hearted smile, she replied, "Hmmm, I'm okay, Ace." Her laughter was soft, but it held an underlying hint of alcohol.
I glanced at her nearly empty beer mug and sighed deeply; realization struck me. "She's drunk; now I know she has a low alcohol tolerance,"
Ann and Ray exchanged knowing smiles, amusement clear in their eyes.
"Ann, take Ovelia—" I started, but Ray interrupted his tone, teasing.
"Shouldn't the husband take care of his mate when she's had too much to drink?" he joked, laughter dancing in his voice.
