Page 22 of Killer Honeymoon
“You have a point, but I’m game to try if you are,” Sawyer said as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Whoa,” he said, lifting a hand to his head.
“Baby, you okay?”
He turned and smiled at Royce. “I’m great. I just sat up too fast and the blood rushed to my head. Maybe I’ll drink an extra glass of orange juice minus the champagne.” He eased off the bed and held out his arms to show he was fine, then he tripped over the toy on the floor.
Royce bit his lip to prevent laughter as he scrambled off the bed. It took him a minute to find his sea legs, and the two of them stared at each other while wearing ridiculous grins on their faces. Sawyer’s expression was a cocktail of happiness, humor, and heat. Royce was getting drunk on it.
“You are my greatest adventure,” Royce said, “and I want to always make you this happy. If I can accomplish that, I don’t need anything else.”
Sawyer swallowed hard as he rose to his feet. He walked around the bed to stand in front of Royce and cupped his face. “Sometimes I think you can’t be real, and I must be dreaming.” Royce could drown in the emotion swimming in his husband’s eyes, but he’d die happy. Before he could respond, Sawyer dropped his hand and twisted Royce’s nipple hard.
Royce shouted “Fuck” out of surprise more than anything.
“Yep,” Sawyer said, stepping back. “You’re real.” Then he turned on his heels and bolted for the bathroom.
“Payback,” Royce shouted as he gave pursuit.
Thirty minutes later, they were showered, hydrated, dressed in swim shorts and water shoes, and slathered in sunscreen. Sawyer led Royce to a large shed off to the side of the property. Inside, a row of kayaks lined the back wall with life jackets and paddles hanging on the right wall. He wasn’t as good at kayaking as Sawyer was, but that should surprise no one. Sawyer excelled at anything he put his mind to, which was pretty much everything. To the left, Royce spotted a generator and several cans of gasoline.
“Summer storms get bad enough around here to warrant a generator?” he asked.
Sawyer pulled down a red kayak and grabbed a life vest and a paddle before handing all three to Royce. “Oh yeah, and it’s shocking how quickly the weather can turn up here. The water is always choppy, but the waves can swell up to twenty-five feet in a bad storm, making it treacherous. The bottom of the lake is a veritable ship graveyard.”
Royce looked from his kayak to the blue skies and puffy white clouds. “How quickly does it turn?” he asked, hoping it sounded like a casual inquiry.
Sawyer must not have detected his trepidation because he continued picking out his gear. “Fast if you don’t know what you’re looking for.” Sawyer turned with his kayak and gear and smiled at Royce. “I do know the signs, and today will be a great day for kayaking with my husband. I want to show you the limestone cliffs and the rock gardens. Trust me?”
Royce’s nerves calmed immediately because of course he did. “Always. What are these rock gardens?”
“Chunks of the island that have fallen into the water. I wouldn’t recommend it for inexperienced paddlers, but I’ve kayaked enough with you to know you’ve got the skill to navigate it. We can skip it if you’re uncomfortable.”
Royce smiled. “Only if I’m in jeopardy of another island chunk falling on my head.”
Sawyer gestured to the front wall of the shed. “We have helmets if you’d feel safer.”
“Asshole,” Royce grumbled as he stepped out of the shed and into the sunshine. It indeed was a magnificent day, and Sawyer’s excitement was contagious. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”
Sawyer sighed happily and pressed a kiss to his lips. They exited the shed and Sawyer turned the key to engage the padlock.
Royce hadn’t kayaked in nearly a year, so it took him a hot minute to find his balance once he was inside the one-person boat. “Ready,” he called out when he felt steady. Well, as steady as one could get in a tiny watercraft on a vast lake.
Sawyer led the way, paddling toward Put-in-Bay, the hub of activity. The tiny island offered impressive nightlife for those who sought it. Those days were long past for Royce, even before meeting Sawyer. He had no desire to revisit his wilder days. He’d choose a cold beer, the warmth of his husband’s embrace, and a sky filled with twinkling stars over neon signs, overpriced drinks, and meaningless encounters.
The limestone cliffs and rock garden were as breathtaking as Sawyer promised, and Royce forgot to worry about his inexperience or a pop-up storm that would send him to the lake’s depths with the sunken ships. Sawyer kept up an ongoing conversation about the island’s history until they rounded a point and came up alongside Oak Point State Park. They rested their paddles across their kayaks and drifted for a bit while watching a ferry sail by filled with excited tourists, waving from the upper deck.
“What did you want to ask me about?” Sawyer said out of the blue.
Royce turned and looked at him. “What?”
“When you approached the bedroom with our breakfast tray, you assumed I was still asleep and murmured something like ‘just ask him.’”
Royce suddenly felt guilty about his early morning musings. Sawyer would tell him anything he wanted to know about his life with Vic, but Royce didn’t feel right prodding old wounds. He was over his inferiority complex from the early days of their relationship when Royce feared he’d never be able to fill Vic’s shoes. He’d eventually realized no one expected him to be another version of Victor Ruiz Jr. For all Royce’s flaws, and there were many, Sawyer wanted him, not a carbon copy of the man he’d loved and lost too soon.
“It wasn’t anything important,” Royce said.
Sawyer tilted his head. “You don’t waste energy on fruitless thoughts.”
Royce heaved a sigh, knowing Sawyer wouldn’t let it go. “I was just curious why your folks hadn’t gifted the lake cottage to you and Vic when you married.”