Page 38 of Killer Honeymoon
“No, sir,” Derek admitted.
“Again, I implore you to acknowledge that such petty acts of revenge are beneath me.” Frank raised his voice and said, “I caught those little assholes stealing gas from my shed, but I didn’t retaliate.”
Derek turned to face Evan and Clint. “Is that true?”
“We reimbursed him for the gas, Officer,” Clint said.
“Only after they intervened,” Frank countered, hooking his thumb toward Sawyer and Royce. “With the storm coming, I might need my generator for days.”
“Stop being so paranoid,” Evan said. “There’s no storm coming.”
“What would you know?” Frank asked. “You haven’t been sober since you stepped foot on the island.”
“Gentleman,” Garza said, “none of us have time for petty arguments.” She pointed to Evan and Clint. “I’m giving you one warning and one warning only. Stop being a menace, or I’ll boot you off the island.”
Evan snorted. “What is this?Survivor?” He grabbed his crotch and said, “What if I’ve got the immunity idol?”
“Not if you had the last ‘immunity idol’ in the world,” Garza quipped. “Everyone back inside your homes. You have two options: bunker down for the storm or catch one of the last ferries back to the mainland.”
“Evan, I want to head back to the mainland and go home,” Chrissy said.
“No one is stopping you,” Evan replied without looking at her. He looked at his watch and said, “You’ve got about thirty minutes to pack your shit and catch the boat. Better snap to it.”
Chrissy bristled but spun around and went back inside the house with Jen fast on her heels.
Garza pointed to the house. “Go with them, fellas. Your input isn’t needed here.”
“Women,” Evan said as he rose to his feet and picked up his lawn chair. He looked over at Sawyer and Royce. “I think I understand your relationship now.”
“I doubt it,” Royce said dryly.
They waited for Evan and Clint to go inside, then Sawyer turned to Frank. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“Was about to tell you the same thing,” the older man replied with an ornery smile.
“Good luck, officers,” Sawyer said with a polite nod before taking Royce’s hand and leading him back to the cottage.
As someone who’d spent most of his life in Coastal Georgia, prepping for harrowing storms was nothing new to Royce, but he’d never imagined the same level of readiness would be necessary so far north.
He made the mistake of speaking his thoughts out loud. Sawyer paused the audiobook to enlighten him on why this region saw such severe weather. He’d included sweeping hand gestures to include cooler weather fronts from the north and warmer systems from the south. The lecture was somehow both nerdy and sexy at the same time.
“And you know what happens when they converge,” Sawyer said. “Sometimes you get advanced warning like today with these bigger storm fronts, and other times, you get about a thirty-minute window. The storms with shorter warnings aren’t usually as severe, but waves have still reached twenty-five feet in those instances.”
“We make a great team,” Royce said after they finished storm preparations for the cottage and the storm cellar below. They’d even stowed anything in the yard that could become a dangerous projectile.
Sawyer looked at him with a wry grin. “Just now figuring that out?” he teased.
“Why, I oughta…”
“Take a shower while you still can,” Sawyer suggested.
“Sold!”
They showered, put on clean clothes, and fixed a hearty lunch to refuel.
“I vote we sit outside and enjoy the weather while we can. Watching the sky change is awe inspiring.”
They each grabbed a beer and headed out to the lounge chairs on the deck. Though the skies were still blue, Royce couldn’t deny the wind was more potent and brisker than it had been during their walk back from downtown. The clouds were thicker and resembled Evangeline’s mashed potatoes.