The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

We sit across from each other in the busy little barbecue restaurant, the used plates between us, and I feel a hundred times better, if not a little too stuffed. I sort of regret the pie and donuts, but I had a point to make to him, and I was in no backing down mood.

The walk here, the food, and the time to silently ponder it all have brought me down to a more even level of insanity. He’s kept his distance, not touched me or talked, but let me think until I had some sense of calm, outwardly at least. The food has almost annihilated my thoughts of anything else. My hunger was so ravenous that I focused completely on demolishing the food he bought me, trying to ignore his surprised yet affectionate expression while watching me eat. He hasn’t dared to touch anything on the plates I requested but has stuck to his own as though he knows that I’ll most likely turn feral in doing so. This place is one of my favorites for take-out.

This hunger is rather worrying. I hope it doesn’t stay this way for the next eight months!

Being surrounded by normal people doing normal things is easing the chaos in my head. If I can pretend things are not as bad as they seem, I can act like none of it is happening to me right now.

“You look better.” Jake cuts into my train of thought, and I glance up at him. He’s lounging in the wooden seat, watching me while folding a napkin into a tiny square. The fidgeting tell-tale sign that he’s not as laid back and comfortable as he appears but is mulling over the emotional turmoil in his head.

“I just needed to let everything sink in. It’s been a lot to deal with the last few days. Honestly, I have no way of coping with it all at once.” I push away my plate, now

full and no longer wanting the smell wafting up at me.

It’s no wonder I’m having some sort of mid-life breakdown with all of this. I’m the girl who used to shun

all emotions, locking them away so they couldn’t touch her. I’ve never really learned how to handle my feelings from my younger life, yet Jake has forced a change in me over all of that. I was still playing catch up, even before all this mess hit me.

“Look, if you want to stay in Queens, I know I can’t stop you. I’m finding all this hard, Emma, not just because of the baby but because I miss you. I don’t want you anywhere but with me. I can’t think straight when you’re not around me.” He looks away and frowns across the café, and my heart constricts a little at the sad expression on his face. He’s been thinking about how unreasonable his request was, given our current circumstances, mulling over his actions long after his crazy impulsive brain kicked the idea out there - typical of Jake. I can’t help the little warmth of love spreading out from the pit of my stomach as I watch the lost look in his expression.

“Jake, I want to move on and forgive you, I do, but it’s going to take time. It’s not that I don’t miss you, I’m just in so much pain, and this … today … well, it just adds to the mess inside my head. I’m hardly singing from the rooftops about it, am I?” I sigh, flicking at pieces of food on the table, attempting not to stare at his pensive face and cry. He makes me want to erase it all and hold him.

“Do you really hate being pregnant that much?” The pain on his face makes me wince. He can’t conceal that level of hurt, even in public.

“I don’t hate it. I just don’t know how to react. I have no idea how to be a mother or even deal with kids. It’s not like I had a good example … When have you ever seen me near a child? Please don’t say Sophie because she’s almost an adult. I’m scared, and this … It couldn’t have come at a worse time than what’s happening between us right now.” I sigh, rubbing my fingers into my scalp, and twirling a strand of my hair. I look out the window at the far end of the bistro, closing my eyes, wishing I could go back to a week ago.

“I know … I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for all of this, but you must believe me when I say we’re going to be okay.

All this right now it’s a lot, but we can get through it together. If you let me in, just a little, let me help you get through this. I want all of this with you.” He leans forward, taking my hand in his, focusing on my eyes, bringing my gaze to him far too easily.

Damn you and your persuasive, pretty face. Why do you make me so stupidly weak?

“Trusting me, forgiving me … It’s not something you need to do right now to move on, Emma. That’s something I’ll earn over time when I prove to you that you can. I’m just asking for a chance to do this right, for you to take a chance on us again. We were good together. We are good together, and I won’t lose you over a dumb mistake I made impulsively. We can be happy, Emma. I know I can make you happy.” With that intense, serious face, the love in his eyes, I sigh at it all and feel a little less broken somehow.

“But a baby, Jake?” The word hits me in the gut every time I say it. It’s terrifying and a black hole of confusion in my head. I have no idea how I’m ever going to get used to this. I need time to let it sink in.

“You’ll have to have a little faith that this will be amazing. You’re a natural, Emma. I do not doubt that you’ll know exactly how to be a mother when it comes. I know you’re more than capable, and I’ll be there every step of the way to help you.” He turns my hand in his and starts circling my palm with his fingertips. It would be almost mesmerizing if it weren’t for the internal battle going on over whether I want his touch or not. I must admit that it soothes me. I still ache for it, yet it hurts when I see her. I can’t keep confusing the boundaries this way.

“What about her?” I can’t bear to say her name. It catches in my throat like a spiked apple, she isn’t going away anytime soon, and neither is the bundle she carries.

“What about her?” Jake asks carelessly, pausing and looking at me a little too intensely. My heart is thundering with an achingly familiar pain, and he seems deadly serious.

“Well … She probably thinks she has a chance with you since you kissed her, and she’s already carrying your kid. She isn’t going to like finding out about mine.” I yank my hand away, the inner wave of tears hitting hard. Either hormones are making me crazy, or bouts of anger and pain at Jake are taking turns to show face when I least expect them. I have no control over this at all; one second, I adore his face, and the next, I want to throw my mug at it. He sighs, pulling over the tray with our check on it, sliding a note from his wallet, and leaving it on the table. He’s dismissing my outburst and being patient, which may be wise. He knows he has no grounds for protest on my behavior in any of this.

“For all I care right now, Marissa could emigrate to the moon. Come on, feisty; I think you need a nap.” He smiles at me knowingly, and it makes me more pissed.

“Don’t patronize me. I’m not tired!” I snap as I clamber out of my chair, knocking away his offering hand. I have no control over the crazy up and down moods I seem to be harboring toward him. “I’m pregnant, not a child!” I haughtily stalk past him and yank open the door before he can get close. He’s still pulling our coats up from the chairs, silently and calmly, and I can feel his eyes on me with every step I take.

Catching up with me outside, he drapes my coat over my shoulders wordlessly, sliding his shades over my eyes, and I stop dead on my heels, an old forgotten Jake-ism knocking the wind out of my sails a little. His constant tender care is enough to make my crazy anger simmer back down to a defeated hum. He’s keeping a pace or two behind me. My insides are pricklier than a cactus right now, and that bitch’s face is beaming at me from inside my head.

***

I try to ignore Jake’s smug look when I stroll into the open-plan living space, finally awake from my two-hour nap on his bed. I had a tantrum on the way home, making him walk with me while I refused to get in the car as Jefferson drove alongside at the pace of a snail. It was utterly ridiculous, but I was adamant that Jake wouldn’t tell me what to do, and he walked alongside me with hands in his pockets, daring not to argue.

I’ve woken up feeling a hundred times angrier and more emotional. I have no clue whether it’s delayed shock or my brain unraveling slowly. I only know that I feel like breaking down and sobbing about everything and eating a lot of ice cream … with chips … and hot sauce … And maybe a bowl of pistachios too. I suddenly want food more than anything; again. Food and some damn mental rest. This is completely exhausting like I am going through some sort of grief that I can’t understand.

He’s standing in the kitchen, with a very smiley Daniel Hunter sitting across from him at the breakfast bar, and it only makes me tense up. The causal way Jake is sitting his butt against the sink sipping coffee and Daniel’s relaxed posture on the stool facing him looks so normal, unaffected, and “every day.”

Assholes.

“What are you doing here?” I snort at Daniel with an expression of utter disgust. I know it’s completely none of my business, this is Jake’s apartment and Jake’s friendship, after all, and honestly, I can’t imagine Jake inviting him here while things between us are an absolute hot mess. Plus, until Daniel grovels at Leila’s feet, he’s no longer on my ‘I almost like you’ list. I’m not entirely sure when he got on that list, but he’s certainly off it again now. I wander into the kitchen past Jake without meeting his smug look and yank open the fridge in search of food, ignoring the smirk or whatever cutesy look he’s trying to give me.

Piss off. Asshole. Know it all. Will this hunger ever calm the hell down? I swear I know what vampires must feel like now.

“Hi to you too. Now is that the heartbroken Emma biting or the hormonal one? I hear congrats are in order.”

I spin and scowl at Daniel, then Jake, for even daring to let that idiot in on our personal matters.

So, he told his bestie, and now they’re out here having some little womanly chat over fatherhood and broken-hearted girls!

Dickheads.

“Both.” I turn back to the fridge, rummaging through the tubs and trays Nora has stocked it with, finding a tub of cold chicken salad and digging in with my fingers. My eyes are still searching for something more satisfying … preferably something greasy.

“I love her just as much when she’s being this adorable,” Jake smirks, and I catch Daniel frowning.

“You’re totally under the thumb, dude. Your life is going to be a living hell if she gives you a girl. You’ll have no chance two to one, and with that attitude.”

I slam the bowl down, my inner emotion hitting hard, a lump catching in my throat; irrational feelings bruised so bloody easily.

“I’m sure Marissa will even up the odds by giving him a boy.” I snap, slamming the refrigerator door before turning to walk off with tears in my eye.

“Hey…” Jake catches me mid-storm and pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest, smoothing a hand down the back of my neck. Bringing some calm to my outburst with his gentle touching relaxed tone. I don’t fight him, just sag against him, but I refuse to put my arms around him or my hands on him. I close my eyes, pushing my face against his chest instead.

Is this a compromise on the touching thing?

“Nap didn’t help, huh?” He soothes me, and my fire dies. I shake my head and press my face against him, turning my cheek, letting a little of my tears run free before trying to sniff them back. His hand travels down my back, and he slowly circles the base of my spine with light caressing, bringing some calm to my inner chaos and taut frayed emotions. I wish I could get a handle on things for five minutes.

“Chicks are cra—” Daniel is frowning at me.

“You finish that, and I won’t have to hurt you. Emma might snap your head off your neck, the way she’s feeling,” Jake warns as he tightens his hold a little. He emanates a little irritation, and I know it’s aimed at Daniel; he is always protective, even if it’s just over my feelings.

“Guess I better get used to crazy women if I’m going to go ahead with my plan, right, Jake?” Daniel doesn’t sound so smug anymore, his voice uneasy and a little nervous. I twist in Jake’s arms to glare at him suspiciously under furrowed brows.

“What plan? What’s he talking about?” I look up at Jake accusingly. Whatever Daniel is up to, I know Jake will surely be involved. He doesn’t look phased at all. He just sips more coffee and gazes at Daniel for a moment.

“You going to tell her, or am I?” Jake smiles over the top of my head and then looks down at me when I don’t hear Daniel respond.

“Danny has put himself into therapy … The goal is not to run screaming for the hills when he convinces Leila to give him another shot.”