It's an unavoidable part of life that other men check out my fiancée.

She's beautiful enough to turn heads on the street, not to mention on stage.

Except when I shift out of my golf cart to see Frank Harvey checking out Emily on the private island where we're getting married, it feels very avoidable.

Before I can reach them, Jacob shifts in front of me and plants a wet hand on my chest. "Slow your roll, T." His voice, low and deliberate, is more of a warning than the words. "You look as if you want to rip his spine from his body Mortal Kombat-style."

My attention drags slowly...