The Carrero Effect Trilogy

Chapter 22-C

“I won’t be here for the next couple of weeks, so that will be a no.” He seems irritated. I try not to listen and lean my face against the window instead, concentrating on watching the airfield while the crew load our luggage and get ready to take off. The door is still open, and I am urged to get up and go outside until he’s off the phone.

“Look, I told you … No, I did … I’ll be there at the end of the month … You’re the one who doesn’t want me at the otherappointments … Because I’m not coming to see you. There’s no reason to come more often,” he snaps. “OK, Marissa, I need to go … I’m taking my girlfriend on a break … Emma! Fuck off, Marissa. Just hang up before you say something you’ll regret.” He disconnects angrily and throws his phone across the aisle at another seat with surprising accuracy; his fiery temper has seen many cells hurled this way. He turns to me and tugs my hand, so I glance at him. Seeing how worried he looks when I face him melts some of my iciness.

“I’m sorry, Bambina. I didn’t expect her to call.” He leans down and rubs his nose against mine, catching my chin with his hand and tugging my mouth open so he can kiss me tenderly. Trying to forget my annoyance, I respond to his touch. As I hear the thud of the door being shut, I pull back to look past him; we’ll be taking off soon, so I move to fasten my seatbelt.

“You don’t want to talk about this?” he asks warily, watching me, but I shrug and tend to my belt.

What is there to talk about? I don’t want there to even be a situation with Marissa, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

“What’s there to say?” I finally answer because his eyes are boring into me, and he hasn’t moved.

“You haven’t even asked for updates, like what’s expected of me before the baby comes.” He’s walking on eggshells, trying to gauge my reaction, and I look away as the tears rise inside of me. I don’t think I’ll ever feel able to talk about this.

“What is happening?” I mutter softly, only because I feel he wants me to. He senses my distance and sits back; he knows Emma is in closed-down mode and knows when to step back a little. I may be improved Emma nowadays, but it’s early days and so easy to revert. Jake seems to be in a new and improved mode too, though, and instead of old Jake pushing me for answers, he’s being gentle.

“I need to fly to LA once a month and attend antenatal classes with her as she wants me at the birth.” He shifts, creaking the seat with his weight and turns toward me to better watch my profile. I stare out the window, trying to detach myself from this conversation, distancing myself from the pain clawing up inside me and strangling my soul. “She doesn’t want me at medical appointments, scans, et cetera, just the classes. Every four weeks for the next six months, then every two weeks until the baby comes.”

“LA?” I repeat in surprise as his words sink in. Last I knew, Marissa lived in New York. Location seems like a safe topic, but also one that annoys me. He’ll have to go there once a month to see her.

“Yeah, she headed out there after we came back. She’s got a condo there. It means I’ll need to stay over one night for the class and fly home the next day.” He glances down at my hand and sees I’ve loosened my grip on his; I hadn’t even realized I’d done it. He gently drops my hand and slides an arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward him. “Talk to me,” he pleads a little desperately.

“I am …” I start, but his look with furrowed brows stops me, and I swallow down the pain.

“You’re just asking questions, not telling me what you’re thinking, Bambina,” he chides softly. “I want to know how all of this is making you feel. I want to know if my going to see her will upset you,” he sighs. “You’ve never told me how you feel about there even being a baby.”

I turn my face away and hold down everything because talking about this is too hard.

If I tell him how I feel, what then? It’s not exactly good. And then he’ll know how much I hate this.

All I can manage is a shrug, the words too painful to spit out, but he sighs and squeezes me a little tighter.

“You know the old me would have been pissed at this, you going silent and brushing it off, acting like you’re bored and don’t care. I now realize that this version of you is when you’re hurting the most, dolcezza. You don’t need to say it, Emma; it’s pretty clear you’re distraught over this whole situation. It’s okay not to be fine with this. I’m not fine with it either.”

He pulls me tighter, his mouth coming to my temple and pressing softly, exhaling warm air across my skin soothingly.

I’m devastated. I’m beyond ‘not fine.’ She’s the thorn in my happily-ever-after who ruins everything.

“This is the last thing I ever wanted,” he says. “I want you and just to have us and a clear future. This shit with Marissa complicates things, but all I can do is try to do the right thing while at the same time trying to make you feel better about it.” His nose brushes the side of my face as he gently kisses my temple again. I relax slightly, his touch soothing me as always, even when my heart is shredding.

“I hate it,” I utter softly, finally, “I hate her.” The tears fill my eyes bitterly, and he turns my face to him by holding my chin, coming close enough to inhale me.

“You’ll never have anything to be worried about when it comes to her. I choose you; I’ll always choose you. She’s my past. I’m only putting up with her for the sake of this kid. If I had my choice, she would be nothing in my life. Our life,” he soothes me huskily.

“Why did you even go back to her?” I search his face imploringly. I’ve never understood it. He told me it was a drunken mistake, but I know how safety-conscious he is when it comes to sex; he always carries protection. I’d ordered him bulk amounts to his apartment in the past. He also had his heart broken by this woman when he was a teenager and spent years afterward unable to commit to any girl because of her. It makes no sense to me that he would be able to spend just one night with her.

“Honestly? I don’t even remember it. I’m not saying that to make you feel better. I’m serious. I went to a party with Daniel and some other guys I know, and I was already far too drunk. I don’t even remember seeing her there, but I woke up in a strange bed beside her. I left. She hounded me for days after, and I told her to forget it.” He shrugs, sighs, and holds me firmly. I should have known his rich, party-wild, idiot best friend would have been involved in him getting so drunk he couldn’t see straight.

“You don’t remember any of it at all?” I question dubiously. I’ve seen Jake really drunk, and he always seemed to remember most of his nights, regardless.

“Seriously, Emma. I swear. You’ve never seen me as drunk as I can get. The last thing I remember is downing shots with Daniel, then waking up feeling like an elephant had stomped on my head. And there she was, lying beside me. I felt like an idiot and got out of there as quickly as possible. I didn’t even wake her to say bye!” His frown deepens as he tries to keep my eyes on his.

I could imagine Casanova Carrero hightailing it without a backward glance. He’d never been shy about telling women he wasn’t interested.

“This was before the yacht?” I ask, thinking back to her behavior and how she kept trying to make eyes at him, some unspoken message.

“Yes. And, no, I didn’t know she would be Vincent’s date on the boat. I never invited her. I wanted to dump her ass over the side when she showed up. I already knew I had feelings for you by then, so she was the last person I wanted around. She manipulated her way into being there because I wasn’t returning her calls.”

I stare pensively at the front of the plane, aware we’re already climbing in the air, so I unclick my belt and stretch out, taking a deep breath.

“I didn’t like her from the second I met her,” I shrug. “There’s something about her.”

“Most of that is show on her part; she can be okay sometimes. Used to be, anyway. We haven’t exactly been friends for a long time.” He pushes his arm further behind me, his other scooping my legs, and lifts me onto his lap with a quick, effortless movement. He sits me sideways across him, cradling me close so we’re nose to nose.

“I love you. I’m not hung up on my ex. I didn’t have sex with her because of any unfinished business, closure, or feelings that still lingered. It’s only you. It will always only be you. She’s only in my life now because of the circumstances, and she would be gone in a second if there was no baby.” He holds me close, forehead to forehead. I smile despite the pain in my chest and the niggles of insecurity within me.

“You always know what to say,” I whisper. My fingers softly trace his chiseled jaw across the roughness of his stubble and seductive lips, finding comfort and cooling my inner turmoil.

“It’s easy with you. It’s always been easy with you. I can tell you anything.” He kisses me lightly, yet I experience only pain constricting across my chest, guilt rising inside of me as tears begin to fall involuntarily

“Hey, hey, Bambina? What is it? Don’t cry.” His hand comes up to smooth away the tears. His expression is concerned as he cuddles me closely.

“I know I’m useless at talking; it just feels one-sided. You’re giving me so much, and I just clam up. The words won’t come.” I bury my face in his neck, wrapping my arms around him tightly, afraid he will disappear, clinging on like a life raft. His arms come around me snugly, hauling me as close to him as humanly possible.

“When we were apart, I did a lot of thinking. About how hard it was for you to tell me things. And how much of a big deal it was that you told me the things you did. It still is. I know what an ass I was. I talked to my mom a great deal after Sophie and gained insight into why you’re both this way. I’m not expecting miracles, dolcezza. I know I need to be patient and not push you. You’ll open up in time, and it’ll be worth the wait when you do,” he soothes softly.

“What if I can never tell you everything? Some of it’s too hard … too shameful,” I cry against his T-shirt, dampening it slightly as his hands caress up and down my back, trying to comfort me.

“Then I’ll live with it. Nothing that ever happened to you will ever change how I feel; it doesn’t change who you are to me.” He strokes my hair, his face pressed against it. “Knowing there are things which haunt you, Bella, they make me so angry. I want to be the one to take them away. I’ll always protect you.” His voice is raspier, with a hint of raw emotion that causes me to lift my chin back to face him.

I search out his mouth fiercely, crushing mine against it, and meet no resistance; his hands come around my body and then my head possessively. He deepens the kiss, pulling me hard against his chest, searing me into instant heat. Panting, I pull away, desire flooding me, and I caress his erection suggestively, but he grins back.

“As much as I want this right now, I’m pretty sure one of the flight crew will walk back here,” he smiles, hovering close and covering my hand over his crotch.

“I don’t care,” I reply defiantly, catching the gleam in his eye, his lips parting, and I wiggle my fingers free to continue feeling him out.

“And I thought I was the wild and naughty one,” he grins, needing no more encouragement. He pulls my legs over, lifting me so I straddle him on the seat. He moves me back a bit to unzip his pants and then slides my skirt up to my thighs. “I love this side of you, Bambina, my cute and sexy little wildcat. Who knew I would find such a fiery little number once I thawed out the icy exterior?”

“You bring it out in me with all this crazy Italian hotness.” I poke him in the cheek and give him a puckered air kiss. Watching how he dips his brows, frowning with a smile, I’m starting to realize his ‘you’re too cute for words’ look. God, he makes me horny.

“Better make this quick then; can’t disappoint my girlfriend,” he growls seductively and pulls me down for another skin-scorching kiss.