The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO) novel Chapter 217

We sit across from each other in the busy little barbecue bistro, the used plates laid 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, has 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 the surprising yet affectionate expression he had 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 in doing so, I’ll most likely turn feral.

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

This place is one of my favorites for take-out.

Being surrounded by normal people doing normal things is easing the chaos in my head. If I can pretend that 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 own head.

“I just needed to let everything sink in. It’s been a lot to deal with the last few days. To be honest, 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 that 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 can’t touch her at all. I guess 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, because I really 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 obviously 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 really 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 going on inside of my head. I’m hardly singing from the rooftops about it am I?” I sigh, flicking at pieces of food on the table, attempting to not stare at his pensive face and cry. He makes me want to just 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.

“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 that 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 looks 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 it in turns to show face when I least expect them. I have absolutely 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, leaving it on the table. He’s obviously 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 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 stalk past him in a haughty manner 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.