Page 25 of Killer Honeymoon

“Let’s put our heads together and develop a plan,” Sawyer said. “Surely not all the renters are this aggressive and mean?”

“Nah,” Frank said. “They’re usually just loud and inconsiderate. These guys take everything to the extreme.”

Royce kept his ears tuned in to the conversation and his eyes on the golf cart disappearing down the street. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. If something didn’t change, someone could end up seriously injured or dead. He and Sawyer might enjoy watchingFear Thy Neighbor,but that didn’t mean Royce wanted to be interviewed for a future episode.

Sawyer had anticipated some sort of retaliation from Evan and Clint, but all was quiet on the street when they set off for a dinner at The Boardwalk on Tuesday evening. After another morning of exploring the island from the water, followed by a long nap and a deliciously languid lovemaking session, the guys were both ravenous and eager to do some land exploration.

“What do you have in mind?” Royce asked as they walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, dodging golf carts and the occasional crude remark.

Royce sighed. “Well, I’m ignoring my baser instincts.”

“Pity.”

Chuckling, Royce squeezed Sawyer’s hand. “Never you fear, love. I still intend to ravish you after I refill my tank. I was referring to the people shocked at the mere sight of two men holding hands.” Royce aimed a wicked smile his way. “Makes me want to give them something to talk about.”

It was Sawyer’s turn to laugh. “This coming from the guy who wants to gouge out the eyes of anyone staring at me too long.”

Royce shrugged negligently. “It’s the touching that makes me see red. The looking doesn’t bother me so much. Who in their right mind wouldn’t stare at you? You’re perfection.”

Sawyer’s cheeks heated, and Royce dropped his hand to wrap his arm around Sawyer’s shoulders instead.

“Is that a blush I see creeping up your neck?” Royce asked. He leaned closer and whispered, “After all the dirty things you’ve done to me?”

Sawyer tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What we’ve done to each other.”

Royce slid his hand down Sawyer’s back, his fingertips ghosting over the upper swell of his ass before reclaiming Sawyer’s hand. “I stand corrected, counselor.”

Sawyer bumped Royce with his shoulder and was about to say something when his gaze landed on a sign promoting a walking ghost tour every Tuesday and Thursday evening. “There’s an idea,” he said, pointing to the sign. “Care to turn date night into fright night?”

Royce laughed. “I’m game as long as it doesn’t turn into fight night. The ticket price is reasonable, but the sign doesn’t state where you buy them.”

Sawyer retrieved his phone, opened his camera, and scanned the QR code on the sign. A website popped up, and he easily purchased two tickets. “How convenient,” he said. “The tour meets outside The Boardwalk at seven thirty.”

“Sounds like fate,” Royce said as they continued down the sidewalk.

The popular seafood restaurant was buzzing with activity. Sawyer would’ve offered to find someplace quieter if one existed on Put-in-Bay. They couldn’t even bank on peace at their home if the frat boys across the street decided they weren’t done stirring up trouble.

Sawyer gave his name to the hostess and told her they had a reservation for two. She led them to a table overlooking the lake, and the gentle breeze blowing in off the bay made all the clattering noise around him disappear. Sawyer had the two most beautiful vistas in front of him—his sexy husband and the lake. His gaze landed on Lester Moore’s tacky cabin cruiser moored in the harbor and forced his gaze to the sailboats lazily drifting by.

“Have you ever been on one of those?” Royce asked.

Sawyer turned his head and found his husband studying him. “A sailboat, yes, though I don’t have any experience sailing one.”

“It looks so relaxing,” Royce remarked. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to captain a boat.”

“Yeah?” Sawyer loved learning new things about Royce. “Are you thinking of a sailboat or something a bit speedier?”

Royce quirked a brow. “What do you think?”

Sawyer tipped his head to the oversized cigar boats docked in the harbor. “One of those, then?”

“Those boats are as pretentious as Lester Moore’s ‘cabin cruiser.’”

Sawyer snickered. “The air quotes were a nice touch.”

“That boat is a yacht,” Royce countered. “It might not be as grand as most, but I’d almost bet a month’s salary the bathroom has a gold toilet.”

“Head,” Sawyer corrected.