The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

We’re left, just the three of us, fused together with heightened emotion emanating across the dining room, air filled with the oppressive atmosphere and a moment of deafening silence. I look to Jake for any sign of how to act or what to say and notice he’s looking down at the table, pushing around his wine glass, steadying his anger with slow even breaths. He’s thinking about what he wants to say before he erupts too. I know this version of him. I’ve seen it in boardroom meetings when someone is pushing his buttons, and he’s about to go all ‘Alpha Boss’ mode and take them down. I shiver in anticipation and suddenly don’t want to be here and doing this. I want to be upstairs or anywhere else but here between these two.

“Well?” Marissa snaps impatiently.

“Marissa, yes, Emma is pregnant. It wasn’t planned, but I’m happy. We’re happy about it. It doesn’t concern you in the slightest.” Jake’s steady even tone is laced with aggression. He’s trying so hard to get control of this conversation before it erupts again.

“How the fuck does this not concern me exactly?! Everything I have asked for with our baby, Jake, every request has been fucking denied me, and now I know why! You’re setting up happy families with her, and my child is being tossed aside like it doesn’t fucking matter!” She spits and slams her palms onto the table wildly, setting cups and glasses rattling unsteadily. I jump with the impact, and Jake immediately brings a hand to my lap to comfort me.

“This is recent, Marissa. It has nothing to do with any of that. Your demands are ridiculous. Parenting classes, running to LA every time you click your fingers. We’re not in a relationship, and I don’t want to spend more time than necessary with you.” Jake growls back at her, tempers rising, and I grasp his fingers to urge him to calm down. Jake’s so much better than this. He deals with negotiations and hard-headed business tycoons daily. He shouldn’t lower himself to her standards. He squeezes back, and I throw him a subtle supportive smile. He takes a calming breath and sits back, lifting his wine, taking slow, deliberate sips, and giving himself a moment.

“So, tell me, Jake … You say you’re happy? Funny … Because I remember the word abortion coming up when I told you that you would be a father! You said you didn’t even want kids! Yet here you are now playing Mr. Daddy-to-be of the year, buying her a fucking house!” Marissa is sitting back with arms crossed across her cleavage, every word like venom on her tongue, glaring at me and not him, with highly intoxicated hatred.

“Why wouldn’t I feel differently? You came to me after one drunk night that I can’t even fucking remember and told me there was a baby. I am in love with Emma, had been for so long, and your appearance almost screwed up the chance I had with her.” Jake stands up and walks off toward the unit behind us. Grabbing the bottle of wine, he steps back, filling his glass to the top. “When Emma found out she was pregnant, it was different. It changed everything, Marissa, because I love her and want a life with her because she’s my world.” He picks it up and downs the whole thing in one go.

Oh, this is not good.

Jake drinking is Jake sliding into a more impulsive, more aggressive mode, where he can be unpredictable and harder to control. I throw him a wary look, and when he goes to top it up again, I swipe his glass away quickly, giving him a pleading ‘please don’t’ glance. He frowns at me and sighs before planking the bottle on the table, sitting down instead. I inhale heavily, trying to relax as much as possible while this crap continues.

“So where does that leave me?! Our baby?!” She spits.

“Same place it already is. Visitation, access. I’m just not jumping through hoops for you. There’s no reason to be a part of your life before the baby is here. I don’t need a relationship with you because, to be honest, it would always be like this; it has always been like this.” Jake waves a hand between them, gesturing each other, locking his green no-nonsense focus on her and willing her to back down the way I’ve seen him make many a man crumble.

“Fuck no! … You want to see your baby, then you sure as hell accept that I’ll be here and in your life. No relationship with me, then no fucking visitation!” She slaps her hand on the table again, and I can’t contain it anymore.

“Is that what it’s all been about? Having him in any way on your terms? Whether he wants it or not?” I sound angry, maybe even as vicious as her, but I don’t care. I’m seeing through her bullshit. This isn’t about the baby. This is about being close to him, having control over him like he’s her possession, and somehow needing to bow to her will. It’s about forcing Jake to have her in his life.

“Is that what your jealous little head tells you? That I want him? That I’m trying to take him from you?” Marissa laughs nastily. “Sweetie, please, he’s the one who fucked me senseless that night and got me pregnant. He was the one who was all over me, asking for me to go home with him. If I wanted Jake back, I only need to ask.” She smirks, but I only narrow my eyes and frown. Even I know that’s wrong, Jake isn’t someone who lets what he wants slip away. He’s someone who goes after it, and if he wanted her all along, then I wouldn’t be sitting beside him now. I saw her texts telling him she still loves him, and he never bothered to reply to her. The woman is deranged if she believes what she’s saying.

“Marissa. I haven’t wanted you in any way since I was about fifteen, and even back then, I’m pretty damn sure it wasn’t even real love.” Jake sighs, even he’s exhausted with this conversation, and I can feel the vibes coming from him. He wants her to leave, as do I since he doesn’t see this going anywhere.

“He’s never wanted you, Marissa. I know him better than you ever will,” I say flatly, focusing on my hands and the napkin I’ve been twisting the life out of instead of those fierce dark eyes emanating all sorts of hate my way.

“You know your fucking boyfriend cheated on you, right? With me … about four weeks ago,” Marissa spits at me across the table, shoving her plate out of the way and knocking over some empty water glasses.

“If you mean he kissed you, then yes, he told me.” I glare back at her, lifting my chin defiantly. I lock my gaze onto those dark brown, almost black dangerous eyes glaring back at me. My face is completely devoid of emotion, even though it feels like a punch in the stomach to say it, just like it used to. There’s a look in her eyes of surprise at me knowing about the kiss before she narrows them viciously.

“Kiss? Ha fucking ha! He had his tongue down my throat and his hand up my fucking dress, almost making me cum, inches away from fucking me if I hadn’t stopped it. He wanted me just as much as he did the night he stuck a baby inside me.” She tosses her hair back over her shoulder, and I jump when the table is slammed by Jake’s palm disrupting everything and scaring the hell out of me.

“That’s not what fucking happened, and you know it.” He yells at her, and I cringe in fright, pulling myself back in my seat, my heart rate going crazy, my mind swirling with images of him and her. I don’t even know what to believe in. She seems to find pleasure in sitting up straighter, meeting his fire head-on, and I seriously start to wonder if there was more between them that night. My doubts and insecurities filter in as I try to get a handle on the pain in my chest.

“I’m surprised you can even remember, Jake darling, seeing as you were obviously high on God knows what and probably can’t remember exactly what happened. You were an absolute mess if I remember rightly.” She purrs and flutters at him. I feel sick to my stomach, my head a mass of confusion. I look to him and her and back again in painful panic. I don’t want to believe her, and I shouldn’t.

I can trust him. He’s been proving that to me all along, hasn’t he?