Page 16 of Shark’s Pride

“How many roses is that?”

I joined her on the threshold of the room. “I stopped counting when the peonies arrived too.”

“Oh shit.”

Her reactions bounced from sarcastic to stunned in three seconds, and I was already wise to the reason why. She’d finally looked up to the new artwork mounted on the far wall of the room. One large painting depicted a majestic shark in a cobalt sea. Its companion featured a dolphin in a mirror image pose. The works were a combination of realism and escapism, with the pair seeming to swim toward each other through sunlight-streamed oceans.

“Holy shit,” Rio rasped. “They look like Wylands.”

“Because they are.” Robert Wyland, my favorite artist, was known for his stunning depictions of ocean life. My bucket list was heavy with visiting parts of the world where his famous sea life murals were featured.

“Incredible.”

For a moment, I freed my mind to agree with her. Just for a few seconds, I was drenched in pure giddiness. The flowers hadn’t done it. Both pairs of shoes came close. But every time I looked at those paintings…

Sebastian freaking Shark had really done this for me. Had sat down and paid attention to what was truly me. I already knew he had no time for his own social media, but he’d taken time out of his insanely hectic life to really learn about me—through mine.

And then had done something about it.

“So…these came with the shoes?” Rio asked at last.

“Oh, no. The shoes and flowers came on Monday. The prints on Wednesday.”

“And Tuesday and Thursday were for catching your breath?” As soon as I shook my head, she drawled, “Well, of course not. What came on those days?”

Half a laugh spurted from me. “Tuesday was an entire case of Thin Mints, and Thursday was a gift certificate to the Golden Door.”

“Thin Mints?” Rio rocked her head back. “Isn’t cookie season in February?”

“Don’t try to figure it out.” I shrugged. “I gave up two days ago.”

“Wait. Hold up.” She rolled her head in a bewildered figure-eight. “Did you say the Golden Door? You mean the high-end spa down in San Marcos?”

This time, it felt right to let a grin escape. “Yep. And the certificate is for two people. So, if you have some free time and you waaa—”

I’d barely gotten over my giggles from her tackle hug before she resettled by my side. I joined her in lolling my head against the back of my couch. We rested that way for a few minutes, simply enjoying the renewed comfort and recovering from her physical attack. At last, she pivoted her gaze back my way, her whiskey eyes bright but probing. “You’re terrifyingly calm about all this.”

A long sigh. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m freaking out on the inside.”

“Do I get elaboration on that?”

“Well, I’m not ungrateful,” I went on. “Not for any of it.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “But the last time Sebastian and I actually talked about…things…was when I delivered his lunch on Monday.”

“And?”

“We agreed to take some time. He said he’d give me space.”

“If this is the new definition of ‘space,’ I’m applying to NASA.”

Oddly, her soft chuckle gave me deeper comfort, and I leaned my head to rest on her shoulder. “He agreed to my terms but then redefined them.”

“Which is a bad thing why?”

“I didn’t say bad.”

“Okay. So what is going on here?” she asked softly.

I threw the back of my hand over my eyes. “I don’t knooow.”