The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

For once, we’re sitting at the table eating breakfast together. I’m on toast and fruit salad with fresh orange juice, Jake’s got a mountain of pancakes and bacon, and Sylvana is on some healthy granola stuff piled high in a bowl with yogurt and fruit. The two of them have been amusing to watch.

They have the same mannerisms as they read the morning paper and then switch pages, shifting in their chairs, rounding their shoulders, and tilting heads to one side. Both talk with full mouths when they point out something interesting in the paper. The same way they cradle their mugs, not using the handles, and hold their cutlery when eating, propping a fork in the air when engrossed in reading a column or news story. It’s beyond adorable, and they are like mirror images.

The housekeeper wanders around picking up used dishes and replenishing the coffee mugs, and I can’t help but feel completely relaxed sitting here this way. Smiling at the two bowed dark heads, noticing from this angle they have the same nose profile and eyebrows, makes me giggle impulsively.

Jake looks up at me with a cute smiling frown.

“Something funny?”

“You two are like book ends … Just wondering if this one will have the same Carrero good looks and quirks as you two do.” I tip my head to one side and smile at him, his face breaking into a grin.

“With my genes, Bambina … more than likely.” He sits back in his chair and appreciatively looks me over.

“Oh no. I hope this little one looks like Emma.” Sylvana chirps in with a dreamy expression. “Can you imagine a little curly blonde-haired cherub with soft blue eyes and little pouty lips just like his mother? Face of an angel but, of course, the little devil child that you were, Jacob.” Sylvana is beaming, and Jake gazes at me intensely.

“When you put it that way, I’d love nothing more than a mini Emma … It Would be the most beautiful baby on the planet.” He sighs, and his look grows intense, eyes locking onto mine in a devastatingly attractive way.

He knows exactly what to say. Gold star to you, Carrero.

“I want a mini Carrero.” I sigh, loving the way Jake looks at me, a focused warm caress, because before today I haven’t really expressed much about our baby other than being unsure of how I felt. I guess part of me is starting to get used to what this is, what we have coming, and I can feel the joy radiating from him at this sudden change in me. I should tell him more often that I’m not entirely unhappy about a little Jake growing inside me. He looks like he needs the reassurance.

“Either way, it’ll be a mini Carrero, in looks or charm; there’s enough of my genes in there to make sure of it, not like we haven’t had enough attempts.” He winks naughtily, and I blush. Sylvana throws a piece of fruit at him, and it bounces off his head.

“Your mother is sitting right here, young man.” She lifts an eyebrow at him. “Don’t make me put you over my knee.” The warning tone is deathly, but the insincere way she smirks ruins the whole effect.

“Mamma …” He raises his hands at her, shrugging defense, but she only shakes her head.

“I wish I could blame that high sex drive and mischief on his father alone. Sadly I think Italian blood is naturally rich with it. I’m just as bad.” Sylvana winks my way, and it’s Jake’s turn to cringe at her.

“Jesus, Mamma, what the hell? I swear I need to poke my ears out with something sharp now.” He glares at her with an utter look of disgust on his face. I can’t help but giggle at them. Jake catches my hand, leans in, pulls it up to his mouth, and kisses my palm. He lets me go and continues with his coffee.

“Well, since we’re talking about libido, you should know that kid has no chance of boyfriends if it’s a girl. I’m buying a shotgun and a really big dog for the dating age.” He frowns, and the hunch of his shoulders gives me the impression he’s not kidding.

“You’re going to be a nightmare as a father. I can see it already.” I sigh and watch him studiously.

“Yeah, well, guess you better keep me in a steady supply of kids, so I get lots of practice at getting better.” He winks at me and laughs when my face drops to a stone-cold blank deadpan. My heart doing a sudden drop of sheer panic.

“Oh, Emma.” Sylvana bursts out laughing as she clocks my expression. “You’re marrying a Carrero, honey. If Giovanni had his way, we would’ve had fifty kids. Sadly my body wasn’t too happy about that.” She croons at me.

“I’m not that bad. Fifty is maybe a bit much … maybe five or six?” Jake winks at me with a mischievous smile, and I scowl at him. I hope to God he’s kidding right now for a reaction from me.

“When you start popping them out, you can have five or six. Until then, I’m not making any promises beyond this one.” I pout at him huffily, only to be met with a look I know all too well. The one that says, ‘you know I’ll have it my way by any means.’ I stick my chin up and raise my eyebrows at him.

“Baby, wait until this little one comes out and melts what’s left of PA Emma’s heart.” He grins at me with wickedness, and the urge to throw my fork at him is not lost on me. “You’ll be begging me to keep you barefoot and pregnant.”

“I think not.” I stare at him steadily. “I have decided that when this baby comes, I want to study.” I divert down at the table, suddenly losing courage. I’ve thought about this a lot, considering it when Jake’s been gone long hours, and even though I’m not sure how I will form a future with what I have planned, I know it’s what I want to do.

“Study what?” Jake regards me with interest, a small quirk of a smile on the corner of his mouth, and Sylvana is watching me with an equally warm expression. Encouraging is the word that comes to mind when I look at them both.

Is this what family does when you have some hair-brained idea you want to try?

“I was thinking I could, maybe, possibly try becoming a counselor of sorts… You know to work with kids who Ummm …” I lose the courage again and focus on my fingers as they make their way to my hair, nervous fidgeting habit coming back to haunt me; saying it aloud sounds dumb.

What do I know about helping other kids?

“… came from abused backgrounds and broken families?” Jake finishes my sentence, taking my hand away from my hair, calming me like he always does. I glance up at him and nod shyly as he focuses on me with an encouraging smile.

“I think that would be pretty amazing and not just for the kids you could help, Emma, but I think for you too.” He gets up and slides his chair back, walking around the table behind me, leans down, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, kisses me on the neck, and buries his face in my soft hair to nuzzle me. Telling me that he’s fully on board with my plan and making me feel a hundred times surer.

“I think that is a spectacularly selfless plan, Emma.” Sylvana beams at me. “I’m pretty sure with my connections, I could help you along the way, help you find your feet and direction. If helping kids from the same abusive situation you were in is what you want to do?” She shines at me, and my courage returns tenfold.

And there it is … Sylvana says it so effortlessly like it’s not some shamefully, horrible, ugly secret, just a common piece of knowledge between the people close to one another in the room, and I don’t feel anything like I used to.

No shame, no pain, no anything. Just Jake’s arms around me, and when he straightens and runs a hand down my hair, igniting the usual thrill of shivers and heat, it comes to me in a flash.

My past doesn’t hurt me anymore. I’m not ashamed of it. I gaze adoringly at the man I love as he moves back to his seat, glancing at me with equal infatuation, and I feel different. I’m sitting taller, my chin held higher, and my expression migrates to a bright smile.

That kid from Chicago who separated herself into different versions and locked boxes has somehow come crashing back together again into one complete person. Her past is no longer a deep dark secret she hides from those who she thought would run from her if they knew … because here they are, sitting facing her, with love and care despite knowing about it all. They don’t look at her as though she’s some broken or dirty shell. They don’t look at her like her own flesh and blood did. They accept her and love her even more for the scars she bares … a real family with real love.

I’m not broken anymore; I am whole, and only one piece of my puzzle remains out of place. I will have to face my mother and the fact that she will never give me what I’ve been trying to get from her my entire life.

Her love.

The difference now is I no longer need it.