Chapter 2 - Part One

The Carrero Effect

~ The Holiday: Part 1 ~

Jake strolled into his apartment and threw his bag down on the couch. It had been a long trip and an even longer week, but he suddenly felt restless at being back. Normally, getting home brought him all kinds of joy, but this time it felt slightly empty, and he actually wished they’d stayed at that damn dance just so he could still be with her right now. Pacing to the window and looking out across the New York skyline he ran his hand through his hair and cracked his neck in a bid to release some of the tension building up his spine. Flexing his arms over his head and straining the jacket holding him tight. He needed to get out of this monkey suit they called a tux and get comfy, maybe he just needed to feel less business-like and properly relax. Maybe he needed a drink.

He needed to stop fixating on Emma; it wasn’t healthy, and the constant stream of thoughts he had about her was getting harder to control. She had been too alluring tonight, that dress had driven him crazy and dancing up close no longer felt safe anymore. He’d made them leave for her sake as much as his own. It was getting to the point he could no longer trust himself not to try kissing her again whenever he was drunk. He wished he had a memory of Chicago, the night she said they had kissed. He wanted to know what it felt like to kiss that sexy pouted mouth fully. Not just a second of brushed lips but a real, deep and meaningful, kiss. He already knew that was an awful idea, she had this much of an effect on him now, a kiss would seal his fate.

Picking up the remote from his coffee table he hit the stereo control and his iTunes playlist came to life, and he turned it up to consume the entire apartment before he headed for his shower; peeling off the bow tie and jacket as he walked into his room. Smiling as lyrics from a song Emma had sent him followed through and he couldn’t help thinking of those blue eyes and quick smile and feeling a hint of longing to have her here right now.

God, he missed her already.

The thought hit him in the stomach and he tried to ignore it. They had literally separated less than an hour ago to come home and he was being unbelievably pathetic. He knew he was becoming too attached to her in ways that would make working impossible; always wanting her around and it bothered him because he could tell she didn’t feel the same way. He had tried to convince himself a million times that it was because they were more than work colleagues, they were friends. Real friends, maybe even best friends. He was pretty sure he told her more than anyone he knew and that counted for something. He needed to realize what they had was already special. She was too special to him to fuck this up with sex or one-sided emotions.

That first kiss in the hotel had thrown him, had started all of this. He didn’t fully understand all the feelings related to it at the time but he sure as hell knew that it wasn’t as platonic as he tried to tell himself.

Emma had been shocked, non-responsive, and scared even, and as shit as it made him feel, he couldn’t get the feel of her mouth out of his head. For a moment, he had kissed her, and it felt like nothing he had ever known before. His stomach had tingled, his heart rate accelerated, and he had just become zoned-in on everything about her as though time had stood still. He had imprinted every single detail of that night to memory. Her smell, her hair, the way she felt, that goddamn nightdress that plagued him and how it clung to her perfect body. Underneath all her tailored suits and precise clothing was a body made for seduction and she had him with one look.

Since then things had only got worse, every touch, every look, every smile, only served to torture him. It was long past sex, even he could admit that to himself. Right now, just having a chance at another night wrapped up together in a bed would be enough. He never wanted to forget what sleeping beside her had felt like; he had done something he never did with a woman. He had wrapped her in his arms and kept her close all night, unable to set her free even if she wanted to. He had thought that fucker Vanquis had been the cause, but that was a lie. He would always hold her that way given the opportunity. She brought something out of him that he couldn’t explain, a need to shield her and keep her close.

He tried to shake her out of his head; something he was getting good at since employing her, but tonight she wouldn’t budge. He was falling hard, and he had no way to stop it. Emma was everything he needed, and he hadn’t even seen it coming. That perfect, angelic face and soft voice, the tiny, perfect body that made him want to protect her always. Everything he learned about her as time went by made him all the more fiercely protective of her. She wasn’t the girl she showed the world; she was so much more. A vulnerable, beautiful, perfection that men had tried to destroy, men he would kill with his bare hands given half a chance and wouldn’t regret doing it. She was strong in a quiet, gentle way but she was also vulnerable and made him feel a hundred feet tall.

He could still smell her perfume on his shirt from dancing with her tonight and still feel the way her body molded to his effortlessly. Looking down, he realized he still hadn’t pulled any of his clothes off despite turning the shower on. Suddenly unwilling to be parted from the smell of her.

Get a grip, man, you need to stop this shit.

He stalked back to his bedroom from the en suite and sat down on the bed, his hand automatically swiping his phone out before his brain connected the dots. He wanted to talk to her, despite only just leaving her, he needed to reach out. Maybe if he did, then this feeling would shift, and he could go back to enjoying time home. Go back to trying to accept that this was never going to happen and actually get his life back. He hated how little control he had anymore, how much she had changed him, and how much he had let her.

He didn’t even drink or party as much anymore. Each time he got drunk he would call her with some lame ass excuse for drunkenly waking her at stupid o’clock. Even before he knew what was happening to him, his drunk self had always wanted to speak to her at the most inappropriate times. He had calmed down so much of his lifestyle, just so he could be around her more, work more, no hangovers invading time spent around her. A part of him wanted to show her he was capable of being so much more than the reputation that hung over him. He liked being around her way more than he liked hanging out in a nightclub with Daniel nowadays.

Jake Carrero, playboy billionaire heart breaker was fast losing that title.

What are you doing? He texted her before sense stopped him.

He rubbed his face and once again tried to evaluate what the hell he was doing. He had tried to play off the lack of dates tonight, but the truth was he didn’t want to see anyone else right now. Women had stopped appealing to him the more he got to know her, and casual sex had lost its sparkle. He got more from spending a day with her at work than hours fucking some pointless girl, and it was messing his head up badly. He should go out, get drunk with Danny, and fuck someone. Get rid of all this tension building up in him, he knew a lot of it was the lack of sex.

Staring at a sea of pointless clothes and wondering how I’m going to wrestle Donna’s gold card away from those itchy fingers.

She replied quickly, a smile hitting him as soon as he saw her name on screen and that goofy sense of elation that made him snarl at himself. He sighed and frowned at the phone. All thoughts of sex with someone else dispersing.

Jesus, he had no handle on this at all.

Can I come stare with you?

He sent it before thinking and then cursed himself out for it. He was acting like some desperate teen with a crush. Breaking every rule known to mankind on the etiquette of “platonic” friendships but he just wanted to be back with her.

Jake, back off … Leave her be.

What’s the matter, Mr. Carrero? Are you lonely in your ivory tower without me?

Her face swam in his mind’s eye, that sexy little smile she gave when she was being playful. The innocent flirting, she probably wasn’t even aware she did, in fact, he guaranteed she didn’t. To her, he was just Jake, good old boss and friend, and everything between them was light-hearted and fun. Every warning alarm in his brain was going off, telling him that for his own sanity he needed to just leave well alone, but his fingers were replying without any permission from him.

Maybe.

He could hardly admit that he was missing her crazily, pining like some love-sick fool over being apart for an hour. He knew he should be putting down the phone, turning it off, and heading straight out that door to the nearest bar with any of the guys he hung out with. He should be concentrating on finding a woman. Fuck it—twins, and fucking Emma out of his head.

If you’re that bored, how can I deny you my sparkling company?

Fuck.

Walk away, Jake, stop!

He knew this was stupid, working beside her was one thing, sharing hotels borderline, but actually going to hers socially after hours like this? Completely fucking stupid. He was blurring the lines of what they were more and more, the holiday idea was even more stupid but part of him couldn’t let it go. He wanted to see her have fun, kick back with him around to look after her. He wanted to take her away, to the boat, to sun and sea, and he had to admit the thought of seeing her in a bikini had his blood pulsing.

Are you home alone?

If others were home, then it would be better, not just the two of them. He had never been into her apartment before, couldn’t believe he was even considering it, but he was sure they would be in a smaller space than a hotel suite and most likely near her bed. He was trying so hard to tell himself that this is what friends did—hung out after work—but he already knew it was a lame excuse. He wanted her.

Aren’t I always?

Fuck.

I’ll be there in 20 minutes.

Why, Jake, why?

He stared at his own reply for a moment and sighed. His mind and body always at war with how he was supposed to treat her nowadays. How could he be rational when his own head was acting like an idiot and throwing caution to the wind? He ran his hands through his hair, dropping his head between his knees and scratching his scalp slowly. He rolled his shoulders and tried to rationalize.

His feet pulled him to his wardrobe while his head was still telling him to cancel, not just this but the boat trip. Emma had never shown any hint of wanting more, not even a onetime fling. He wouldn’t have done it even if she had. The one-night thing that was, he would happily give her more even if it scared him shitless. She was a girl you gave it all to, nothing less, and one night would never be enough for him.