Shark’s Rise: Shark’s Edge: Book Three

by ANGEL PAYNE

  I sighed and made sure she saw it. “Yeah, things have really been a mess. Luckily they are negotiating now, as far I understand. Bas doesn’t tell me a whole lot. But I’m really sorry about all the secrecy while I was gone. The guys thought it was best for everyone.” I followed that statement up with a significant eye roll, letting my sister-in-law know exactly what I thought of that action plan.

  “I get it.” She held up her hand to stop me. “I know there’s been a lot going on that’s been out of your control. Just tell me one thing right now.” She gulped hard, suddenly looking almost panic-stricken. “Are you…closing the business?”

  “What?” My exclamation knocked me back in my seat. “No!”

  She poured out a huge breath. “Oh, thank God.”

  “No,” I repeated. “It’s not that. Not at all. I would never do that. Shit. After how hard we’ve worked for all of this? Are you kidding?”

  “I was hoping I was.” She laugh-sighed. “And yeah, that’s good. Because you’re right. We’ve come way too far to just close the doors. But what the hell is going on? Seriously, you look like you’ve lost weight, and your color is paler than usual.” She reached out to touch my forehead, testing for fever the old-fashioned way.

  “I’m…” I scooted forward again, nervously kneading my fingers together. “Well, I’m pregnant.”

  Rio clapped her hands in front of her mouth to stifle her wail. Three seconds later, she shot up and slammed me with a full-body hug.

  “Wait!” She suddenly drew back. “You’re happy, right? I mean, I just assume everyone is happy when they say the words. But just because I want to say them so badly, doesn’t mean—”

  “Oh, Rio. I’m sorry.” I gripped her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I know you and Sean have been trying so hard.”

  She slid her hands into mine. “Stop!” she ordered. “Stop that right now. I’m happy for you. I’m over-the-moon happy for you! And I’m over that phase where I hate every woman who gets pregnant when I don’t; honestly. I’m truly so happy for you, honey.” Again, she baldly studied my face for a few beats. “You doing okay, though? You must have morning sickness. Is that why you’ve been staying at home?”

  “Well, we did just get back into town yesterday, so the whole desert-villa banishment hasn’t been a lie.” I held up my hands in swear-on-a-Bible mode. “But the morning sickness thing isn’t a fib either. And it’s at the extreme level, sister.”

  There were times when the woman’s vitality was a welcome thing. Right now, watching her dropped jaw and distressed gaze, was one of them. While I wouldn’t wish this bullshit on anyone, this was the closest thing to commiseration I’d had all week—and it was nice.

  “It’s called hyperemesis gravidarum,” I went on, sounding out the words in distinct syllables, because Christ, it was a mouthful. “I’ve had to have IV fluids and the whole nine yards. Unpleasant barely scratches the surface when describing it.”

  “Oh, you poor thing. I’ve read about that. Kate Middleton had it with her pregnancies.” She smirked when I snort-laughed at her. The woman was a notorious royals watcher. “Anyway…why haven’t you told me sooner? How far along are you?”

  “Still early; only six weeks or so. But that’s why I’m asking you to keep this under wraps for now. Sebastian and I can’t have this getting out to the public until I’m further along. But being so sick certainly hasn’t eased our stress. It’s so hard to do anything. And I mean…anything. I spend most of the day in bed.”

  On cue, Dori walked over and set a bottle of water on the desk. “Have you met Dori yet?” I asked Rio. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you when I first got here. You and the big guy were in the middle of a sparring match.”

  Rio narrowed her gaze at me but converted to a smile while shaking Dori’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you the new lady in waiting?” She gave her a dramatic wink.

  “I am. And loving every minute of it!” My new friend reached over and pushed the bottle of water closer to me, silently hinting that I needed to drink. But then she went back across the kitchen and got busy helping Grant.

  Rio swung her gaze to me, bugging her eyes out in a what the hell? sort of way.

  “She was one of the staff at the house in Twentynine Palms. We got along well, so Bas asked her to come back with us.” I shrugged because it had all really happened that easily.

  “Your life has changed so dramatically in such a short time, Abbigail. Just don’t forget who you are inside here.” She reached forward and touched my sternum.

  “Never. Promise.” I stood up but apparently too quickly, because stars danced in my vision and I had to grab on to the desk to steady myself.

  I heard Dori’s voice from across the kitchen. “Drink the water.”

  I felt for the bottle, but Rio was already handing the uncapped container to me, mumbling, “She’s a miniature Shark. No wonder he liked her.”

  The comment made me spray the water I just drank all over my sister-in-law’s face and chest, and then I burst out laughing even harder. Quickly, I found a towel and blotted frantically at Rio’s face and shirt.

  “You did that to yourself!” I was still chuckling.

  “I did, I did.” She joined my laughter.

  We hugged each other for a full minute before Dori and I left, making one pit stop on the way home.

  “What are we stopping for?” Dori asked as we got out of the back of the car. I still wasn’t used to pulling up to places in a limousine. It wasn’t uncommon in Los Angeles, and while people didn’t gawk as much as they would in a smaller town, they still looked to see who was “arriving.”

  “I just need a few things,” I said, heading toward the front entrance of the store.

  “Abbigail, I can do these errands for you. I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  “Dori.” I came to a full stop while turning to face her. “I haven’t been inside a Target in months. Please don’t deny me my fix.”

  Just then, my phone signaled an incoming text from Sebastian.

  Get back in the car.

  I screwed up my face while I stared at my phone. I looked at Dori with an accusatory glare next. “Did you tell him we were here? When did you have time to text him? This has to stop!” I went to stand in the shade of the building’s overhanging architecture.

  She held her hands up in innocence. “Wasn’t me this time.”

  Joel!

  No. Can I get you

  anything while I’m here?

  I would address this new stalking problem when he came home later.

  That’s what Dori is for.

  I’m serious. Go home.

  No.

  Red.

  The exact color I see right now.

  Chapter Ten

  Sebastian

  Ten weeks later…

  “Are you nervous?” I asked Abbigail while we waited for the ultrasound technician to come into the little room.

  “Nope. I’m ready.” Sitting on the exam table, she swung her dangling legs back and forth to the beat of her drumming fingers. “Are you nervous?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Liar.”

  I chuckled, though didn’t surrender the assessing steeple of my fingers—as I battled the rising bulge in my pants. Christ. Even in a flimsy medical gown with her hair in a messy bun, the woman of my heart inspired a raging fire in my balls.

  At least focusing on my erection helped with distraction from the nerves she’d accurately called me on. That and getting to my feet again. I moved forward, making room for myself between her kicking legs, basically putting my own safety at risk. With her hands in mine, I looked into her stunning green eyes. Would I ever get over this woman’s beauty? Did I even want to?

  “So. You still want to find out, right?” I queried while brushing some loose tendrils out of her eyes. I only asked because the way her body was vibrating, she certainly appeared agitated. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Red. They
can just do all the measurements and record all the other stuff and not tell us if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “No way. I totally want to find out.” She unleashed an impish grin. “We have a bet, remember? And you are definitely going to lose.”

  “Not a chance,” I drawled. “But do we have to do one of those ridiculous staged gender reveals on social media? God, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about being a part of something so pedestrian.”

  She giggled. Loud. “Did you just say ‘pedestrian’ in a full sentence?”

  I flared my gaze. “Well, it is!”

  “Well, your PR team still thinks it’s the best way to break the news to the public at large.”

  “Remind me to fire the PR team.”

  “Oh, come on, Bas. It’s kind of cute. Soon, everyone will know that a baby Shark is about to make its way into the great wide ocean…”

  I cut her off with a groan. “One quick email can put an end to that nonsense. And with the way you’ve started showing all of a sudden, the information will be viral as soon as one paparazzo gets cunning with their lens.”

  And the news outlets were circling like—well—sharks, for every morsel of news they could get about me these days now that the South Pacific hostage situation had come to the best conclusion we could’ve hoped for. The pirates had been appeased without any loss of life. The crew had all returned to their families unharmed, and most of the cargo was recovered and delivered to its intended destinations.

  What had begun as a media nightmare was flipped into a happy ending that worked out in our favor. I was proud of the Shark Enterprises logistics team, who had worked day and night to pool resources from every corner of the globe and connect them to the right branches of the local government. Everyone had been tireless about ensuring the crew was treated fairly while the negotiations took place. Better yet, the freight we were responsible for finally found its way to its final ports of call.

  The message behind the capture was still unclear, at least in the public’s eye. But I had received a few private messages that I had shared only with Grant and Elijah. Troubling information to worry about another day.

  Today, I had only happiness filling my thoughts and heart—exactly what I was reminded of as Abbi spoke again.

  “Well, the sooner the better.” She leaned back and rubbed her stomach. “I’m excited about not having to hide my fat stomach anymore.”

  “You’re not fat.” I gave the moment the somberness it deserved. Then said, kissing her eyelids and nose between each singular word, “You. Are. Stunning.” Before she could issue a peep of protest, I leaned in and lovingly kissed her lips. There was even a chance to sweep in and taste her, so full of luscious sugar and spice at the same time, before she dipped back and shot me a wary glare.

  “Don’t you dare go further than that sweet talk either, buddy. Do not, if you value your balls, say I’m glowing. I swear, if you think it, I will throat punch you.” She shifted her weight and grimaced, having surpassed the I-gotta-pee-like-a race-horse phase about three minutes ago. “Whoever came up with that dumb saying was confusing the oily, sweaty state of a pregnant woman with something else altogether.”

  “Or maybe it was a husband threatened to be throat punched for saying his wife looked oily?”

  As I raised my brows, Abbi burst out laughing. At the same time, there was an efficient knock on the door. The technician strolled in, apparently deciding we were finally worthy enough for her presence.

  “Hi,” the girl asked brightly. “And how are we doing today?”

  “Good, good,” Abbi answered before I could growl about being kept waiting longer than we should’ve been.

  “Great. Are we ready to get started? Did we drink lots of water? It helps if the bladder is full. We get better pictures that way. So now go ahead and lie back, Mrs. Shark. I’ll just get everything set up here.”

  “It’s Gibson,” Abbi said at once.

  “Hmmm?” the girl asked sweetly while going about her routine.

  “I said it’s Gibson. Abbigail Gibson.” Abbi made sure the girl was watching as she pointed to her name on her chart. Though the technician nodded and smiled, not an iota unnerved, I sure as hell was. The sensation was foreign—and not fun—but it was there, pressing at the back ends of my skull like a Vulcan squeeze. Compelling the truth from me, even if I was only confessing it to myself.

  I didn’t want her to correct the technician.

  I hated the fact that she had.

  Would she do the same thing when they asked her what name to put on the baby’s birth certificate?

  Abbigail was mine, damn it.

  And so was our child.

  The conflict raged through my head as the technician entered a bunch of information into the machine. I must have gotten obvious about it, because Abbigail squeezed my hand and gave me a definite “settle down” look. Since she’d shot it my way before during these appointments, she obviously thought I was pulling my typical “impatient patient” routine. In many ways, she had a point. I had to concentrate on what mattered here, damn it. Her and our baby.

  After the technician asked me to dim the lights in the room via the switch by the door, she squirted a liberal amount of gel on Abbi’s growing belly. When she swirled the wand around in the goo and then pressed the device in, an image came to life on the screen.

  The air stopped in my throat. Abbi’s breath hitched, as well.

  We had seen the baby a bunch of times now, but every occasion was amazing. The little person was getting bigger and was starting to look less like an alien. Abbi was sixteen weeks pregnant now, and all things were going along as expected. Because of the severe morning sickness, she had barely gained weight, but the baby was growing right along the standard growth curve. Thank fuck.

  The ultrasound technician prattled on about the measurements she was taking, pressing the wand in at different places, tapping away at the screen to measure “long bones,” as she called them, as well as the baby’s length, position, and so on.

  Through the whole process, Abbi kept up her tough grip on my hand. A few times, I had to remind her to breathe, because it seemed like she wasn’t. The tech would ask her to turn a certain way, or reposition her arm, but for the most part, we were both just observers.

  Finally, the tech posed her last—and biggest—question.

  “Were we wanting to know the sex? You’re at sixteen weeks. It’s early, but I think we can all plainly see. Did we already see? I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”

  The woman gave a condescending chuckle. I glowered. Luckily, Abbi was feeling more gracious.

  “We would like to know, yes,” she answered.

  “Well…” The woman slid the wand over Abbi’s belly, positioning it so the image became clear right between our baby’s legs. “You have a very cooperative little man here today.” She placed an arrow graphic on the screen and froze the picture so the end was right at a little penis.

  “Oh, my God,” Abbi sobbed.

  “Definitely a boy!” the technician chirped.

  “A boy…” No way could I hold back the wonder and love in my voice. I was gutted. Transfixed. Awestruck.

  “I’ll go log in and make sure all the images are emailed to you. Congratulations! You can get cleaned up, Ms. Gibson, and I’ll be right back.”

  As Abbigail sat up again, she found my gaze with her tear-filled stare. “So…are you happy?” There was a heartfelt glitch in her voice. Though the room was still dim, I watched her chin wobble. “You thought it would be a girl. Was that because you really wanted one more than a boy? I mean, are you still good with—”

  “Are you kidding?” My voice cracked with the emotion flooding my entire body. My hands shook as I cupped her cheeks. My lips sought hers for a fervent, velvet kiss. “I’m over the fucking moon, baby. He’s healthy and right on track. Thank you.” I kissed her again. “Thank you.”

  She laughed while forming her fingers atop my own. “Well, you’re welcome—but
news flash, my love… You helped.”

  “Jesus Christ. I’m having a son.” As she started getting dressed again, I spun around and stabbed my hands through my hair. I tugged on the ends in a desperate motion. More tears choked me. I could barely move oxygen into my lungs. “A son…”

  Abbi stood up. The paper drape fell to the floor, and her little dress dropped over her body. I swept her into a tight, trembling hold. We held each other for long moments, racked by feelings we didn’t know how to express. Was this how it was for everyone? The disbelief. The euphoria. The excitement.

  And the love.

  Holy shit. So much love.

  Finally, I leaned back. I had to see Abbi’s face again, to confirm she comprehended even half the storm that was overtaking me. Elation swelled through me, erupting in a laugh, when I witnessed her amazed smile, joyous flush, and joy-sparkled stare.

  “You knew from the very beginning,” I murmured to her. “You kept saying it was a boy.”

  “Welll…” She gave me an adorable shrug. “I just had a feeling—and about two thousand visits to the porcelain god.” She rolled her eyes and snickered softly. “He’s already a force of nature.”

  “Like his mama,” I husked, tears rolling down my cheeks.

  “Like his daddy,” she said, wiping them away as hers flowed freely.

  “We’re having a boy!” I bent low and grabbed her hips. As I hoisted her up and twirled her around, a giddy squeal spilled from her. “Can you believe it?”

  “Oh, I think I can.” She laughed again as I settled her back on her feet.

  After we checked out from the OB office, paperwork and a few ultrasound prints in hand, we were feeling energetic enough to walk to where Joel was parked with the town car, instead of calling for a pickup in front of the building. The security detail nearly had an instant meltdown, but I was the boss, damn it, and I was feeling unstoppable, indestructible.