The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

“Breathe, Bambina.” Jake’s mouth comes to my cheek in a soft peck from behind; his hands are on my shoulders as I stand, smoothing down my dress in the mirror. It’s late; we’ve been up here for a couple of hours. I slept a lot, and we lay together, talking about everything and nothing while watching daytime TV. Idle chit-chat and jokes; Jake tried his hardest to make this feel normal. Neither of us wants to acknowledge that she will be under the same roof soon enough. Neither of us wanted to talk about anything to do with her. I would be happy with never talking about what he did ever again.

I am so ravenous for food, but I know she’s down there somewhere; I’m about to look at her for the first time since he touched her. I gulp softly and quell the nerves running through my stomach, causing a swirling ache of nausea.

“I’m okay.” I try to reassure him, even though I’m far from it. I smile back at him from our reflection.

I’m looking better, less pale, and no more rosy cheeks from a high temperature. My black shift dress clinging in all the right places, and my flat pumps making me a little less formal. I look right for dinner in a family home, just not right to face the woman who is crazy in love with my Jake. The woman he betrayed me with not so long ago, and my stomach lurches with a stab of pain.

“You look beautiful. Sexy … Fuckable.” Jake grins, kissing me on the neck, burying his face against me, and smelling me. I close my eyes.

He always knows what to say and how to touch me.

That familiar ache in my lower abdomen stirs that I frequently get, any mention of sex or gentle kisses or caresses, especially my neck, and I yearn for him. It’s been too long, and I find myself salivating over him, more and more with every passing day. He’s just too damn masculine and utterly devastating not to want to be nakedly entwined with him. Just looking at him walk across a room in casual or formal clothes could send any woman’s heart racing, let alone someone who knows what those hands and that body are capable of. I am craving everything he could do to me right now while watching him in the mirror.

Jake is right, though; something inside me isn’t ready, and I’m not there yet. He never gives any signs of getting beyond kissing and cuddling. My lower body seems completely off-limits to him. When he touches me anywhere below my waistline, hips are all he will put his hands on, except my abdomen, where our baby lies.

“Ditto.” I smile, devouring him visibly in his fitted navy shirt under a dark gray tailored suit, collar open as always, lacking a tie. He looks dressed for more business dinner than a family meal, but I know he’s conveying a message. This dinner will be all business while Marissa is at his mother’s table. He told me his mother wants to be involved, to try to mediate the situation he’s been failing to get on top of for weeks. In a way, I feel better knowing she’ll be there for support. With her flawless grace, Sylvana will bring a presence to the table that will, maybe, finally, get Marissa to agree to set terms and stop the emotional tug of war and manipulative moves.

The problem is simple. Marissa is still in love with Jake, so she will not stop trying to maneuver this situation her way. She figures that baby means leverage, and after Jake kissed her, she thinks she has a chance of getting him back. She has no clue about the meaning behind his kiss. To her, it was a glimpse into the problems in our relationship and maybe a hint that he still wanted her. I do not doubt her showing up here because she thinks she can push Jake’s mother to her side again. I know she was a regular in this house as a teen, and she’s angling to get back in.

I watch him move back to fix his hair, his gaze over my head in the mirror as he expertly styles it with his fingertips. He looks adorable when he’s doing simple things like this. Young and effortlessly sexy. I can’t deny that with every passing day, I’m starting to learn how to forgive him, a tiny bit at a time, and it’s starting to hurt a little less intensely. Looking at him now, there’s none of the carnage I felt in those first few days or the confusion I used to feel when I stood close to him.

I know he doesn’t still have feelings for her. Finally, in the last few weeks, that inner insecurity somehow has shaken itself free; in every look he turns my way, with every touch and word out of his mouth.

Jake loves me, really, really loves me. In the way that I love him. A fully encompassing and world-changing, blow-your-mind kind of love. Marissa never stood a chance with him. That kiss meant nothing, and I will not let it hurt me, or us, anymore.

The attention he continually shows to our unborn baby is like a final sign that I am everything to him, and our life together will always be his soul focus.

He catches my eye in the mirror and smiles at me, that sexy natural slight flex he throws me every time we look at each other. My heart lurches a little and skips a beat. Jake could always say so much with a look, maybe because I know him so well and am tuned into him on another level. In one glance, he’s telling me everything I ever need to know, and he means it: I look beautiful, and he’s completely in love with me. He’s giving me courage.

* * *

As much as I try to prepare myself by pulling on my most efficient PA Emma face, none of it truly prepares me for the blast of sickening pain when I am finally faced with one Marissa Hartley.

Walking down the stairs and into the dining room, I don’t take in the beautiful space, elegant settings, or wonderful smells of food. I just see the girl with the long, curled, brown, highlighted hair. The seductive, tanned, Latino-looking face with sensual lips, wearing an overly tight floor-length animal print dress, fully emphasizing her bust, curvy figure, and undeniably compact baby bump protruding at her front. I also can’t ignore how her eyes devour Jake hungrily as he walks in behind me with a guiding hand.

She exudes pure sexual energy, every movement calculated for maximum impact, hips swinging, and cleavage swaying. Her pouting and hair-flicking mannerisms all made for pure seduction.

I hate you so much I want to smash that centerpiece right into your face.

I glare at her icily, our eyes meeting for a moment, and I catch a glimmer of smugness. She has no qualms about meeting me dead on and even licks her lips in the process. I feel nothing but disgust and soul-scratching hatred for her.

“Jake … Emma.” Her low husky voice purrs our names as she slips effortlessly into a seat ushered by Sylvana, sliding down gracefully and never once taking her eyes from Jake as he settles me into my chair. I glance at the steak knives in front of me and wonder if Jake would mind if I stabbed her in the face with one.

The waiting staff nearby are laying glasses of wine down on the table. I note that both the glass before her and I are full of fresh orange instead, an inner smugness washes over me, and I wonder if she will even notice.

See, you think you have something over me, Marissa, but I have a secret you will hate more.

I catch Jake watching me carefully as he slides in beside me. Neither of us has said a word since walking in here. I catch his eyes going to the ridiculously sharp cutlery, and a slight hint of a smirk draws across his face. He knows where my brain has been heading, and I raise an eyebrow at him as if to say, What? He shakes his head with a smile and leans in to kiss me behind the ear.

“I love you, but please don’t stab her while we have witnesses.” The low husky tone, followed by his chuckle, sets a smile on my face, and I’m even smugger at catching Marissa scowling our way. Her eyes narrow at Jake’s affection, and she twists a fork in agitation.

Arrick appears, casually, with a new, non-descriptive girl in tow, a mirror image of the little thing that annoyed me so much last time we were here. He says his hellos, passing smiles and introductions when Giovanni Carrero saunters in, greeting us all unemotionally. I suddenly feel a little more uncomfortable when he’s here. That steady, sharp gaze seems to devour this scene, the polite greetings as though he’s walking into a business meeting and not seeing his own flesh and blood. Everyone sits, including Sylvana, and there is almost fake politeness in the atmosphere as quiet chatter and light idle conversation begin.

I glare at Marissa as we’re served. This is a family dinner, and she’s been allowed to join. Sylvana is trying to bring her into the family’s fold to send Jake a clear message. She wants him to fix this and ensure her grandchild is not kept from her. She wants Marissa to feel like she’s a part of this and belongs here too, so she will want to bring her child here in the future.

My heart plummets at how much I hate her presence in this home with these people who are supposed to be my family one day. The realization that this is how it will be, that this isn’t just about her, Jake, and I, but it’s about all of us and what these people will be in her child’s life. That tug of emotion rises, hitting me hard, swallowing down the pain that threatens to consume me suddenly.