Page 19 of Killer Honeymoon
“I understand.” Gary’s tone was conciliatory, but there was a chill in his dark eyes. He offered a humorless laugh and a lukewarm apology for interrupting them. “I just wanted to make sure you had my contact information if you needed anything.”
“My mom left your number for us,” Sawyer said. “She speaks highly of your company, and we were impressed with the home’s condition when we arrived. I assume someone on your staff pulled off the stocked kitchen as a lovely surprise from my folks. We appreciate it so much, especially after two long days on the road.”
Gary seemed less brittle, but a slight frost lingered in his expression. “We aim to please. Let us know if we can be of service to you, and congratulations on your marriage.”
Sawyer barely had time to thank the man before Royce shut the door in his face and mumbled something about mistrusting anyone who paired socks and sandals.
“You catch more flies with honey,” Sawyer teased as Royce pulled him into his arms and started backing him toward the kitchen.
“Who the hell wants to catch flies? Gross.”
Royce pressed his lips to Sawyer’s neck and trailed kisses up to his mouth. Once in the kitchen, he instructed Sawyer to grab the champagne while he retrieved the crackers, pepperoni, and squirty cheese. They went out on the secluded back deck and cuddled on the outdoor furniture while feeding each other snacks and toasting to their honeymoon and their cottage.
“I’m going to feel a whole lot less guilty for the things I’m going to do to you in this house now that it’s ours,” Royce said.
Sawyer waggled his brows. “Oh yeah?”
Royce set his champagne flute down, then repositioned himself to lie on the couch with his head on Sawyer’s lap. “I might need a nap first after the long road trip.”
Sawyer slid his hands into Royce’s thick, blond hair and massaged his scalp. Royce let out a soft groan, and his eyelashes fluttered a few times before his eyelids drifted closed. Sawyer was more than content to shower affection on his man while basking in the glory of their personal paradise. There’d be plenty of time to play later.
With unfamiliar pans and equipment, it took Royce several attempts before he produced crepes worthy of serving to his husband. He filled the pastries with honey-sweetened Greek yogurt and fresh fruit, then dusted them with powdered sugar. Royce added turkey bacon and scrambled eggs to the plates and placed them on a serving tray he’d found while taking inventory of the ingredients on hand. Royce had to admit he was very impressed with how well Gary’s company had stocked their kitchen. Either Evangeline had given them extremely detailed marching orders or the shopper had planned for every contingency. Royce figured both options were plausible and decided to just be grateful. But that reminded him of how rudely he’d treated Gary the night before, and he knew he had to make amends before the week was out.
Royce repurposed the champagne flutes from the previous evening and made mimosas with orange juice and the leftover champagne. He placed them and coffee in matchingHusbandmugs on the tray and headed to their bedroom.
Their bedroom.Royce was still bowled over by the magnitude of Evangeline and Barron’s generosity. It also made him wonder what they’d gifted Sawyer and Vic as a wedding present. Grace and Darren had received the Gatlinburg cabin, and Killian and Brianna had received the ski chalet in Aspen. There was no way in hell Evangeline had shafted Sawyer, who everyone knew was her favorite. So what had their gift been? Sawyer would’ve told Royce about any vacation homes he owned. Was it something he sold after Vic died? Or did visiting the property make Sawyer too sad?
“Just ask him, dumbass,” Royce whispered to himself as he approached the bedroom door.
Sawyer lifted his head off the pillow and assessed Royce through sleepy eyes. “Ask me what?” His husband scanned Royce from head to toe, and he watched Sawyer’s drowsiness turn into interest.
Royce barely managed to hang on to the loaded tray when he noticed the bite mark on Sawyer’s ass cheek from the previous evening. Sawyer had let him sleep well past little-nap territory. When he’d woken, the night sky was black as pitch save for a sliver of moon that shimmered on the lake. Sawyer had led him into their bedroom, but Royce stopped him before he could turn on the LED candles.
“Let’s use our other senses,” Royce had said, opening the French doors to let the lake breeze and moonlight in. He’d relied on taste, touch, sound, and smell to get them off. The evidence of Royce tasting Sawyer was right before his eyes. He quickly set the tray of food down before he ruined his romantic breakfast.
Sawyer sat up and surveyed the food Royce had made. “I love your crepes.”
“I made a healthy filling. No fatty cheeses or sugar. I whipped the Greek yogurt with honey.” Royce sighed and said, “And I owe Gary an apology.”
“Probably,” Sawyer agreed as he pulled the tray onto the bed. “But eat first, talk later.”
Royce’s brain had been halfway to third base after seeing Sawyer’s bare ass, and his disappointment must’ve shown on his face. Sawyer shook his head and sipped his mimosa.
“Food, fuck, then talk,” he amended. “And you know what? My ass has seen a lot of action these past few days. I will pin your knees to your chest and take you hard. Even up the score a little.” Sawyer sliced through his crepe and happily hummed as he chewed.
Royce swallowed hard as more blood surged toward his groin. “If that was your attempt to distract or discourage me from sex, you failed epically.” He leaned forward and placed his hands on the edge of the bed. “And I’m already one step ahead of you.”
Sawyer smiled wryly and held up a piece of bacon. “I’d say you’re at least two steps ahead of me. Breakfast is one, and I can’t wait to hear the other.”
Royce straightened and walked over to his side of the bed. Once comfortable, he took his plate off the tray and settled it on his lap before helping himself to a mimosa. Royce licked his lips afterward, delighting in Sawyer’s attention riveted on his mouth. “What?” he asked innocently.
“I’m waiting to hear how you’re a step ahead of me.”
Royce shook his head and pointed at Sawyer’s plate with his fork. “Eat first, remember? Then fuck. Then talk. These are your rules, GB. It’s not my fault if you’re ready to cast them aside at the mere suggestion I might’vepossiblygained the upper hand for once.”
Sawyer snorted and forked a bite of scrambled eggs into his wicked mouth.
“What?” Royce asked, hoping he sounded affronted and not amused.