Page 74 of Shark’s Pride

“I shut her down before she got too preachy about it,” I qualified. “I know she loves me. I also know she means well. I can also see that part of me let her become too maternal, especially after I first moved out here. She wants to be a mom so badly, and my own died right when I needed her most.”

Bas huffed, but it was more an expression of contemplation than frustration. “And now the situation is different.”

“And now the situation is different.” I deliberately stressed the verb. “She doesn’t need to be so concerned about my life anymore. I’m capable of making my own choices. I want to be making them. It’s time for her and my brothers to respect that and back off.”

My volume grew and intensified, and I realized I needed to dial down the lecture. Bas didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t the one judging me on the subject.

“Good for you, Abbigail,” he said once I’d gotten in a full breath again. “I’m proud of you. You’re standing up for yourself this time, not just for the business or your loved ones.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. It felt good to hear him praise me. Probably a little too good, but I didn’t want to wreck the moment by overanalyzing it.

“Anyway, let’s talk when we get home. I’m going to try to break out of here a little early today.”

“Early?” I laced it with sarcasm. “Umm, excuse me…who are you and what have you done with the hot and sexy Sebastian Shark?”

His hearty laugh filled the speakers. “Ohhh, he’s right here—and now has an incentive to get the hell out of here before the sun sets.”

I sighed loud enough for him to hear. “I’d love to enjoy the sunset with you, Mr. Shark.”

“Good.” His voice dipped back into its sultriest baritone. As all my pores burst into new flames because of it, he continued. “Let’s make something on the grill and really enjoy the summer night. I’ll have Craig get everything we need, considering you’ve been at the meal prep thing since the ass-crack of dawn and still have deliveries.”

“I appreciate that,” I murmured. “It’ll give me time to make a stop for knee socks.”

“In that case, I’m leaving the office now.”

He waited out my extended giggle and then a few beats beyond that. When he finally spoke again, the seductive baritone was gone. In its place was a chest-deep sibilance I’d never heard from him before.

“I miss you already, Abbigail Gibson.”

But ohhh, how I wanted to hear more of it. So much more.

“I miss you too, Sebastian Shark.”

“Drive safe.” Just like that, he was back at the height of dictatorial CEO mode. “It’s Monday. The pricks have taken to the freeways like migrating lemmings.”

“And there’s one whopping visual for the day.”

“Damn.” He infused the word with abject apology. “I should have remembered your tender stomach.”

“It’s fine,” I rushed to state. “Well, not fine but better.” While raising the window again, I started looking for an opening to remerge into traffic. “I hope you and Elijah were able to figure some stuff out last night.”

“Yeah.” He let a noticeable pause go by—and then another as he cleared his throat. “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

Though we exchanged another pair of mushy goodbyes, that was the declaration clinging hardest to my brain a few hours later when I pulled into the circular driveway of the Calabasas mansion owned by my boyfriend.

I stopped while exiting the car.

My boyfriend.

The words had rolled through my brain like gentle rain instead of a lightning storm, and I wasn’t sure how to react. Giddy grin or silent freak-out? But the mental jump was reasonable, right? I was staying at Sebastian’s house full-time. I had not one but three keys, each granting me access to different parts of the property. I’d moved a bunch of my belongings here and had only been back to my place in Torrance once since he’d insisted I remain here—and only long enough to pick up more stuff. Granted, he’d mandated the plan was for my personal safety, but it had absolutely been a command, not a request—and came only a month after he’d refused to be my first lover.

So yeah…it all still felt a little strange. “Strange” being really relative these days.

And just the start of an explanation about what we’d been through together since. Crazy shit that belonged more in a summer suspense movie than real life, which only intensified my doubts about it automatically landing us in the boyfriend-girlfriend territory. But that was to be expected, right?

The stress compounded with the realization that I had no one to talk to about it. Not right now, at least. After the way I’d stood up to Rio earlier, I was confident my relationship with her had shifted gears too. We’d work it all out—or so I hoped—but I was certain about not wanting to continue in our current roles, either.

The conclusion set in as I paused outside the truck, absorbing the warm beauty of the August afternoon. The air smelled like sage and oaks and wildflowers and probably would be like this until past Halloween. There really was no such thing as autumn in Southern California.