The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

Two hours later, I regret the road trip as we stop for the fiftieth time so I can get some air. Nausea seems to take over anytime we get on the road, and I’ve had to stop and throw up a few times already; it seems my morning sickness likes to rear its head badly the second a vehicle is involved.

“I’m sorry.” I grimace as the waves of nausea roll over me. He holds my hair away, gently rubbing my back while I grip my bottle of water. I’ve already been sick a few times and am no longer embarrassed at Jake seeing it. I need him with me to hold me and hold back my hair.

“No, baby; I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would make

you sick like this, we should’ve just asked Mamma to fly to

New York for a visit.” He helps me up from my perch

in the grass and holds me tight against him, my body trembling at the effort of throwing up, not relishing the thought of getting back into the car. I feel like hell, as badly as the first few days of knowing I was pregnant.

“We’re only an hour’s drive away from Manhattan; we could head back?” Jake seems to read me, as he usually does, but I’m adamant he gets to tell his mother face-to-face. I know how much it’ll mean to him to see her reaction first-hand. I owe that to him, at least.

“No … I’ll take some of the anti-sick pills Nora gave me and try to sleep; that might help. I’ll manage. I want to go, Jake.” I lean against his chest, closing my eyes, inhaling his smell, enjoying the moment of calm before I get back in the car and let the nausea build again. I’ve managed twenty minutes, maximum, before getting him to stop again, secretly hoping for a lot longer before we need to do it again.

“I don’t know, Emma. This was a bad idea; I’ll take you home.” He sounds dubious, and concern is etched all over his handsome face.

“No, I can’t stay locked up in the apartment for the next few months, or I’ll go stir-crazy. I want to see your family, and I really want to see the house.” I smile up at him and flutter my lashes, instantly knowing he’s folding. The lure of showing me the house and the look on my face; Jake is so whipped he has no clue, making me grin. I can literally see him caving in.

“Okay, but if we need to stop, then we stop, even if it takes three days to get to my mamma’s, okay? I don’t mind stopping for breaks and letting you get air or even finding a hotel and staggering the trip.” He helps me back into the car, putting my seat belt on, coming back from the trunk, he hands me a pillow and blanket, helping me get comfy before kissing me on the forehead and closing the door.

“You know … you’re nothing like the Jake Carrero I met in his office on day one.” I giggle at him as he settles himself back in the driver’s seat and pulls on his belt. His wide shoulders make me long to strip that shirt off him and see them in all their glory.

“I’m one and the same.” He winks at me cheekily, pulling his seat belt out from his shoulder to untwist it, starting the car and revving the gas as he fiddles with some buttons on the dash.

“Sure, you are,” I smirk. “That Jake wouldn’t have entertained the idea of a girlfriend, let alone a baby and a house. I can’t see him stopping to prop a cushion under his moaning girlfriend’s head on a boring four-hour drive either.”

“I guess you broke me, Bambina, not that I’m complaining … In breaking me, I got to break you too, and that reward is worth it all.” He grins and ruffles my hair affectionately. “You’re nothing like the Emma who walked into my office in stilettos and the tightest gray skirt I have ever seen, staring at me like I was the enemy. Oh, and for the record, I thought about taking that damn skirt off and bending you over my desk in those first few seconds. I wanted to fuck you the second I laid eyes on you.” I turn my head to gape at him in outright surprise.

“You did not … You barely looked me up and down.” I protest, laughing, as he tries to tickle me in the ribs. Playful Jake has been slowly seeping back in these last couple of days, relaxing in a way. Our relationship is starting to return slowly and surely. The change in both of us had been a lie. We are still in there, trying to find our way back to each other, back to how it was before.

“Bambina, I’m a seasoned pro. I could check out any woman without even looking in her direction.” He flexes his eyebrows. “You gave me hot dirty dreams from day one, Emma. Those skirts seriously ruined my concentration.”

“Liar.” I move in the seat, getting comfy with my cushion and blanket, snuggling down so I can watch him drive; he’s too adorable not to watch…

“Trust me; I’m a guy. I thought about having sex with you at least once a day, sometimes once an hour. Even back when you tried your hardest to keep me at arms-length.” He has us out on the road, smoothly sailing along the tarmac. It’s sunny out, and the scenery is pretty and soothing. I can’t imagine that back then, Jake was looking at me that way; I guess he really was a seasoned pro, after all.

“Okay, well, maybe you did. I admit I checked you out way more than I allowed myself to deny.” I smile when I catch his satisfied grin.

“I knew you had the hots for me.” He smirks, and I shake my head indulgently. His ego does not need any encouragement, then or now.

“I had to take a ticket and get in line,” I respond with a lowered eyebrow.

We haven’t had this easy, amusing flow with our conversation in a while. Experiencing an inner swell of happiness because I’m starting to feel this way with him again, easing into this, signs that maybe things could be okay again; perhaps we might be how we were in time.

“You must’ve had the golden ticket, Bambina.” His cheesiness and wink set me off giggling, and I tell him to shut up. My face meets that annoying palm of his as he slides his hand across it, squishing my nose in the process.

“Stop it. Jerk.” I slap it away.

“Make me, Sexy.” He throws me an air kiss and a wink, then tugs the corner of my blanket up. “Now go to sleep before you feel like you’re going to throw up again, and let me drive. You’re too distracting with that beautiful face.” He beams at me genuinely. I can’t help but smile as I snuggle down at his command, closing my eyes.

* * *

“Jake. I need to get out.” I wake with a start, my head spinning and nausea coming at me as soon as my sleep-addled brain comes around. It’s close, and I’m going to hurl badly.

“We’re here, baby. Hold on, let me help you.” Jake jumps out and comes around the car, pulling me out fast. Just as my stomach throws up the bottle of water, I drank mid-journey, all over the gravel driveway of his mother’s house. Jake jumps back, making sure his trainers don’t take a direct hit but keeps me in the crook of his arm.

“I swear that time you were aiming.” His mouth comes to my forehead, and he holds me against him as the retching subsides. He sweeps back my hair instinctively.

“Payback for waking me up with a bottle of water an hour ago,” I grimace, my stomach aching from the effort, and I’m rewarded with a smile. He picks me up in his arms like a child and walks me toward the house. He has no qualms about picking me up anyway, not that I am complaining.

“I can walk, you know. Your mom’s going to think something’s wrong,” I protest weakly. The feeling of extreme warmth in my cheeks and forehead from vomiting is rising again. I hope this passes soon. Feeling this way is the worst thing ever. I never was good with being sick or having an illness, even as a child.

“Something is wrong, Miele … You’re very pregnant and look like you’re probably running a temperature again.” He scrutinizes me as he carries me up to the front door and up the wide sweeping steps. He makes carrying me seem effortless; nothing is showing on his face or body, and his walk is seemingly unaffected.

“It’s the car. It seems to make this so much worse.” I sigh, burying my face into his neck. This is not how I expected

to greet Sylvana Carrero when seeing her again. “I should walk, Jake.”

“You’re fine like this,” he responds with a no-nonsense tone, and I know arguing is futile. Jake has become that scary, overprotective, ’loss of a sense of humor’ father-to-be, and I’m too tired for another battle of wills.

He manages to open the front door without letting go and carries me inside, calling out that we’re here. My face colors at literally being carried over the threshold, and I wonder if Sylvana will get the wrong idea. I try not to think about how it makes me feel. I’m just getting used to thinking we have a chance at forever again; marriage is not even an idea I’m thinking about right now.

Sylvana appears from a room down the hall, looking completely flustered. Her eyes go wide with relief and absolute stress; she doesn’t seem to be phased or even acknowledges how Jake and I have entered. Her cheeks have a high spot of red on them, and she’s manically squeezing a cordless phone in her hands.

“Jacob! I’ve been trying to call you!” She strains in hushed tones. Using his full name is never a good sign, quietening her voice as her eyes dart around behind her. She ushers us toward the kitchen in haste. Sylvana is normally the picture of cool and controlled, like her son, so I already have a rising sense of apprehension at her odd behavior.

“Mamma, what the …?”

“Shhhh.” She waves her hands at him to shut him up, pushing us into the kitchen, hauling the door shut behind us when we’re standing in the cool, neat interior. “Answer your goddamn phone in the future, Jacob! She scowls at him accusingly.

“I was driving. It’s on silent. I wasn’t expecting anyone to call me. I was letting Emma sleep, Mamma. She’s not too well…. What the hell has gotten into you?” He huffs childishly at his mother, and it’s not hard to picture little Jacob as a kid being told off. I imagine he was a handful and can only hope he has the necessary wisdom and training to handle a mini him.

“Can you two stop arguing, and can you put me down?!” I frown up at Jake, with an eye of bewilderment and awkwardness, at being held aloft between a squabbling mother and son. Jake frowns, then tips my feet to the floor, standing me upright, pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders to nestle me in front of him.

I feel better out of the car, recovering quickly, and it seems I’m not allowed out of an inch of his reach.