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“Yes, I did.” He dropped off his things at his office and locked the door. “Are you allergic to cats?”

Her eyes lit up. “The Hemingway House?” She bounced on her toes. “Yes, please.”

“That was easy,” he said with a laugh. He was happy to see her so enthused. “Let’s go.”

He had a car take them over to what had been the residence of one of the most famous authors in history. They joined the next available guided tour and at every turn she seemed more excited.

At the writing room, she surprised him, tearing up a little. “Can you believe all of the creativity here? The stories and his process.” She pressed a hand to her heart.

“I didn’t know you wanted to write.” He filed it away. Anticipating her reaction if he gifted her a writer’s experience at the Hemingway house. What a thrill he’d have to give her something so meaningful.

“Oh, no. I don’t have those talents.”

His bubble burst.

She sighed heavily, her gaze dreamy. “But Gentry Carver does. He did an author experience here and said it changed everything about his storytelling.”

Who the hell was she talking about? He let her ramble on quietly for a few more minutes about inspiration and muse until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had never seen her so animated or so enthused about a man. It didn’t sound as if she’d had a relationship with him, but he’d bet his shares in Ellington that she wanted one.

“I’m hoping he’ll do a reading at the tea room?—”

That did it. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

“The author. Gentry Carver. Oh my goodness.” She touched Rhett’s biceps. “You haven’t read him? You really should.” She cocked her head and stared at him. “I can’t believe you don’t know the name. Your uncle Bruce is just as crazy about him as I am.”

That eased his aggravation a bit. “I guess I don’t talk to Uncle Bruce about books.”

“Oh you should,” she said. “His books will sweep you off your feet. When we get back I know just the book you should startwith.”

With a skeptical grunt he guided her out into the gardens, hoping the colorful views, the cats, and of course the famous pool would distract her from her fangirling. He wasn’t too proud to admit he wanted all of her attention.

Selfish, but it was their wedding day.

None of his efforts were effective. She continued to sing the praises of this man. While she went on and on, Rhett pulled out his phone and looked him up. He’d been hoping for some gray-haired old man, but what he found was a guy probably not yet forty. Dark hair, serious brown eyes, and a strong jaw outlined by a well-trimmed beard. The man clearly worked out, based on the website gallery showing off photos from an array of adventures and research travels.

It struck him that the author would have made an ideal groom for Trina. Both world travelers, big readers, and likely more shared interests. Thinking about it made him queasy.

Rhett skimmed through the tour dates for the author’s latest release, shocked to see Brookwell on the list of stops. “He’s coming to Brookwell?”

“Yes!” She bounced on her toes. “Next month. I have tickets. Bruce and I are so excited. Harper gave him her ticket. We won them during trivia. The book signing is open to the public, but we get special time with him beforehand.”

“How nice for you,” he deadpanned.

His sarcasm sailed right over her head as Trina continued, “He’s just back from Greece. He was doing research for a new book.”

“How do you know that?” More importantly, why was he so jealous of a stranger?

“I’m on his newsletter list,” she said as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “I get emails every couple of weeks.”

“You have a crush on him.” He regretted the outburst immediately when she went still, the sparkle fading from her eyes. “Trina, I didn’t mean anything.”

“No, you’re right.” She flapped her hand, apparently waving away any offense.

He wasn’t sure if he believed her or if this was just some kind of protective habit she developed that everyone bought into.

“Rhett, are you jealous?”

“You don’t have to sound quite so pleased about it.”