Kissing the Shark (Maritime Monsters #1)

Epilogue- Karlo

EPILOGUE- KARLO

[FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ]

I finish putting together the last of the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches at the kitchen island. I put the knife in the sink and close the jars, licking stray jelly off my fingers.

“And they lived happily ever after.” My five-year-old son’s tiny voice is so cute as he reads his picture book.

“Good job. That’s your Papa’s favorite story,” I say with a smile.

“Can we have sandwiches now?”

“Soon, anak ,” I reply with the one Filipino word I’m trying to teach them,

“Can you take the crust off mine?” He spins in my favorite gaming chair, an idle activity he loves.

“Of course. Stop spinning on that, you’ll throw up. ”

He slows down and hops out of the chair. He shakes his little head and I smile. “Marino, where is your brother?”

“Finn is taking a bath, but he turned into a shark,” he replies.

“Turned into a shark?” I stare at him incredulously as I wash a dish. “You mean like a game with Papa? Like make-believe?”

“No, he’s in the bathtub, but he turned into a shark, a real one. He looks like Papa.”

I snicker. Both our sons look like Razorjaw, with their blond hair and blue eyes. But I knew when we used a surrogate that I wanted the kids to have his DNA. The world could always use more maritime monsters, and with any hope, they’ll be monsters who—

“Wait, what?” The meaning of my son’s words hit me. Turned into a shark ?

I power walk into the bathroom and gasp. “RJ!” I shout in the hallway. My husband needs to stop doing our taxes and get in here now.

“What, what’s up?” he asks, rushing behind me. Marino walks behind him, and I grab my youngest son.

“The…the…” I stutter and point to the bathtub. Razorjaw steps forward and gasps.

Inside the tub, my eight-year-old is no more. Instead, there’s a two-foot-long great white shark pup, flailing about.

“Oh my monster god,” Razorjaw mutters.

“He…he shifted! He needs to get to the ocean!” I say, finally snapping out of it.

“Right.” Razorjaw snaps his fingers then picks up our shark, I mean, our son…our pup? Whatever, right no w, he needs to dash to the beach. Fortunately, we’re a ten-minute walk to the water, but I know Razorjaw will get there faster.

“Find us at the beach!” he hollers as he bursts out the door, clutching my son, the shark.

I take several deep breaths, praying Finn can hold his breath in the time it takes for my husband to get there. “Daddy, is he going to be okay?” I turn and kneel down to my younger son. He seems mildly distressed, and his blue eyes look like they could burst into tears at any moment.

“He sure will be!” I say in a chipper tone. Hopefully my veneer of confidence can fool my littlest one. “Hey, let’s take the sandwiches and picnic on the beach. That way we can meet Papa and Finn.”

“Mmm…” He looks up and ponders it, then nods. “Okay.”

I take Marino by the hand and walk him to the boys’ room. I try to quell the anxiety in my veins as I help my son get dressed. Is Finn alright? Did Razorjaw make it to the ocean in time? Being a parent is just one concern after the other. When I put Marino’s shirt over him and his little head pops out, I gaze at a miniature version of Razorjaw, and I chuckle.

Who am I kidding? I love our little family, and I’m grateful that we found a medical team and surrogates to help us have kids.

Fifteen minutes later, we make it to the beach. Marino carries a little bag while I’m hauling most of our gear over my shoulder, including a giant beach umbrella. He pitter-patters along the boardwalk, looking adorable in his beach shirt and shorts. Then, when we reach the sand he sprints forward.

“There’s Papa!”

I huff, trying to keep up. “Okay, wait for Daddy, though.”

Peering forward, I spot my husband, wading in the water in his hybrid form. He’s just as handsome and fit as he was when he first walked out of the ocean and into my life. And now, he’s laughing as he peers down at the two-foot-tall waves on the beach.

A tiny shark fin wiggles around his legs, and I let out a sigh of relief. Putting down my bags, I watch as Marino sprints into the water. Razorjaw of course, catches him and holds him on his hip. He points to the water and says something, and the two are enthralled. On this warm day, I have the privilege of witnessing my husband as he watches our son swim as a shark for the first time. I fall in love with Razorjaw a little bit more as he cuddles with Marino and laughs.

“How is he?” I ask as I wade into the water. I need to accept the fact that my tiny family, the three most important boys in my life, will all be aquatic. I can’t believe I’m a land dweller and they all get gills. Well, Marino doesn’t, not yet. But judging by his aptitude for the beach, he’ll be a shark pup in no time at all.

“He’s swimming, Daddy!” Marino says.

“I see that!” I reach them and cuddle up to my husband. “But really, how is he?”

“Like a pig in mud, or a fish in water,” he says with a smirk.

I snicker and bump his hip for being so corny. I almost miss the days when he didn’t understand similes or expressions. “But can he hybrid shift? ”

“Let’s find out. Hold this pup.” I chuckle and take Marino from him. Then he dips his head into the water, presumably making animal-speak.

When he returns, another tiny head pops out of the water. “Hi, Daddy!”

I laugh and it comes out as a sob. My little Finn is a hybrid shifter. He’s blue and has a tail, just like his Papa. “Oh my monster god!” I say, tears rolling down my face, my hand covering my mouth. He’s grown up so fast.

“You have fins, Finn!” Marino says, pointing.

“I sure do!” Finn plays with his dorsal fin and Razorjaw laughs.

“I wanna touch it!” Marino says, wiggling to be put down.

“Want to swim on my back as a shark since I’m a monster now?” Finn asks his little brother.

I cuddle next to Razorjaw, and he says, “Okay, but you kids stay on the surface, you hear me?” He gives a stern pointing, and the boys reply with, “Okay!”

We watch as Finn morphs down into a tiny great white, and Marino grabs hold of him. The pair swims toward the sand, with Marino’s little head sticking out, laughing along the way.

I wipe my eyes and cuddle next to Razorjaw. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“They’re growing up so fast,” I reply. “I have a family filled with sharks!” We both laugh and I wipe away another tear.

“That’s what we signed up for.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses the back of my head. “And that’s what you get for marrying a shark.”

“I know.” I turn and look up at him. “Best deal ever.”

He leans in and kisses me gently as waves roll around us. “Thank you…for choosing to be my mate.”

I nod and stroke his cheek. “Thank you. For swimming back to me.”

“I always will.” And I believe him. Together, in the salty ocean breeze, we watch as our sons play in the waves.

My future is right here on the beach; I didn’t count on being surrounded by sharks, but now I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End