Page 70 of Shark’s Rise

“All right. Good night.” She smiled and gave me a quick hug on her way out. One of the security guys walked her out to the pool house and made sure she was safely inside before coming back in through the slider in the kitchen.

“What time did Pia think she’d be home from this date?” I asked Sebastian.

“It’s not a date,” he was quick to remind me.

“It’s totally a date.” I grinned. “But Vela should just spend the night so Pia doesn’t have to rush home.”

“I told my sister she was welcome to spend the night, but she has school in the morning, and Pia wants her to sleep in her own bed.”

“Dori could’ve gotten her off to school, I’m sure. The woman is capable of just about anything, it would seem.”

“Abbi, I told her all of that. But there is no convincing Cassiopeia when she has her mind made up. Don’t stress yourself over it, babe.”

“Okay. Okay.” I put my hand up in surrender. “Then, on to more fun things. Do you have your list ready? Are we going to end this tonight?” We hadn’t come to an agreement on a name for our little boy so had come up with a less conventional way to choose.

Of course, Sebastian wasn’t happy with that either. “Are you sure this is how you want to do this? Leaving our son’s name to random chance?”

“It’s not random chance,” I defended. “If we can’t agree on one together, and these are all names we love equally, then we should still be happy with any of them that are picked.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure it feels right.”

“What if we say we each get one veto?” I offered as a second-level solution.

“Explain.”

“Well, if one person isn’t completely enamored with the name that’s drawn, we pick again. We each get one chance for a redraw.”

“Fair enough. Let’s do this,” he said, standing and rubbing his hands together.

Bas went to the kitchen and got a small container for the slips of paper. We each had three and folded them the exact same way, per his instructions. We called Vela back into the room and let her have the honor of choosing the piece from the bin.

“Really? This is going to be my baby’s name?” she asked, hopping from one foot to the other.

It was adorable the way she had taken to calling our son her baby, and we just stopped correcting her about a month into the habit. No matter how many times we did so, she just kept doing it. Stubborn Shark genes were not to be reckoned with. Bas just rolled his eyes every time, and I giggled harder.

Vela reached her little hand into the bowl and swirled the papers around. She pulled one out and handed it to her uncle. He unfolded it, eyes fixed on me the entire time.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, taking a big breath in. This was really working him over. Surprisingly so.

“Yes! What does it say?” I asked, as impatient as Vela now.

His gaze shot down to the paper and then back to me. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or not though, and he came striding across the room to where I was still lounging on the sofa and pulled me to my feet.

“It’s Kaisan. Our son will be Kaisan Albert Shark.”

“I love it.” As soon as the whisper spilled from me, tears did the same out of my eyes—of course.

“So do I,” he said against my lips before rolling his head and deepening the kiss. At once, my pulse sped and my blood heated—but Vela’s whooping reminded us to keep the passion somewhat under control.

“I picked a great name!” She skipped around the room, still excitedly yelling, as Bas and I kept a tight embrace on each other, savoring the special moment.

We finally loosened our hold when one of the night security guards led Pia into the room. “Well, goodness!” she exclaimed, shrugging out of the cute jacket she wore over a trendy, lightweight blouse. “What did I walk in on?” She bent lower to receive an affectionate hello from her daughter.

“I picked the name for my baby!” Vela announced. “It’s Kaisan! Isn’t that a great name for him?”

“That’s a beautiful name! Congratulations to the actual mama and papa!” Pia winked at us over her daughter’s head. A few tendrils escaped the messy bun into which she’d pulled her dark waves for the evening.

“So how was your date?” I asked with an answering wink. Sebastian squeezed me a bit harder, but I didn’t care. A date was a date, and I didn’t understand what the big deal was. Pia deserved a little male company in her life, a man other than her brother to affirm she was beautiful, talented, and admired. Vela was nine years old now. That was more than enough time for her mother to forego physical…outlets…of any kind. I almost laughed as my brain autocorrected to the tactful version of that, but the underlying truth remained the same. It was time for a little rainstorm over Pia’s dry spell—which, according to her confessions during our few personal conversations, was seriously closing in on its ten-year anniversary.