The Carrero Effect Trilogy

Chapter 25B

Leila chatters non-stop while touching up her makeup in the car. The journey is short; before we know it, we're stepping out into a scene from the movie Cocktail.

The restaurant is nice and private; it has a beach theme with little palm roofs over each table, which spill out onto the sand near the shore, all strung with fairy lights twinkling now that the light is fading.

As we enter, we spot our party immediately and make our way across the crowded sands of the outdoor part of the restaurant as Jake has picked a table near the shore.

Unaware that we've arrived, as we approach, Jake stands up while talking to Daniel in a rather animated way, and Daniel hops about beside his chair, demonstrating something ridiculous. They're laughing heartily, and Richard shakes his head at whatever they're reminiscing about, his twin crimson with sheer embarrassment. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's the butt of the joke. Jake looks gorgeous in a white shirt and blue designer jeans over sneakers.

He glances our way absent-mindedly, then does a double-take, his eyes locking with mine in recognition. His mouth drops open as he runs his eyes over my hair and then back to my face. A spark of electricity flashes across my stomach and almost makes me gasp.

Holy hell!

He's never looked at me that way before, and it sends a shiver through my abdomen, heating my pelvic floor instantly.

Jesus, Emma.

He smiles and walks toward me; his hand moves impulsively straight to my hair and gently pushes a strand back off my face. He runs his fingers through it lightly, the motion tingling my scalp seductively; his face is close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin, exposed by the low neckline of my dress, and I almost stop breathing with this intimacy. He knows how to command attention anyway; I can see why he doesn't need to make much verbal effort.

"I like this. A lot," he utters softly, his piercing eyes suddenly heavy, his pupils dilated. They've already been drinking before coming to the mainland; he looks intoxicated. The overall effect is devastating on my hormones. My body is on instant high alert to him, like it has been since Chicago, and I inhale slowly, trying not to react to his proximity openly. Every part of me is trembling at his contact.

"Thank you." I blush and pull the hair from his hand, shyly tucking it back with the rest of my short waves. He leans down and plants a gentle, unexpected kiss on my cheek, causing a sensation of warmth and stomach-fluttering with the brief graze. I quell the urge to moan at the contact.

What the hell is going on? Leila planted seeds in my head, and now I'm going all cuckoo.

Grasping my hand, he leads me back to the table. Leila throws me a wink and grin, looking mightily pleased with herself, and all I can do is follow him weakly, momentarily knocked limp with his reaction to my hair. I'm over-analyzing everything, from the response, the cheek kiss, the hand-holding, the way I'm almost falling over myself, to the look in his eyes as he turns to guide me to a chair. Leila has messed with my head big time; I'm uber-aware of him, sexually stirred, and I try to shake it off as I sit down.

We sit outside under palm frond umbrellas. The food is amazing. We're drinking cocktails, and it's helping me unwind and relax, fruity, decorated drinks that taste like tropical juice and soda.

Daniel, Richard, and Vincent have all whistled and complimented my hair, and I keep catching Jake looking at me as though he's seeing me for the first time. I try to ignore how frequently I notice his eyes on me. A small ripple runs through me, both a warning and a thrill.

Why does Jake have to be so good-looking, with eyes that can strip you bare?

It's unnerving.

I'm starting to warm a little to Daniel Hunter now that he's stopped leering at me. Well, not in such a sleazy way; now, it's occasionally more of a flirty male glance.

"What motivated this?" Daniel reaches out, scooping a strand of my hair, and Jake bats his hand away aggressively.

"No touching." His scowl is between funny and serious; Daniel raises an eyebrow and grins.

"Sorreeeee, big man. You have to admit, though, your girl does look extra hot with this new do." He winks at me.

"Ummm, thanks," I cut in blandly, watching how Jake glares at Daniel and then punches him lightly in the shoulder.

"She's not going to sleep with you, so you can cut out the compliments and the flirty crap," Jake says with an irritable tone and an alpha male stance. A sulky boy is brewing.

"Oh, I don't know. I reckon I could charm Miss Ander … OWWW!" Daniel squawks like an injured animal as Jake shoulder-punches him with more force than before. "Calm your pants, Jake. God! You'll be pissing on me next," he huffs and swipes his beer from the table, casting his friend an angry frown.

"Don't tempt me," Jake jokes, a bit too dryly for humor, as he grabs his beer. Both men throw snarky looks at one another before taking what looks like synchronized swigs of their drinks.

"Jeez, testosterone flying much?" Leila interjects with a heavy sigh, pulling some of the tension away.

"Men!" I offer in answer, and we both raise eyebrows at one another in agreement,

"Needless to say, I was right!" Leila grins at me triumphantly.

"About what?" Marissa cuts in with a pinched tone that makes us flick our eyes toward her with cool indulgence. She's sprawled at the table with full cleavage on show, right in Jake's eye line. Miracle is picking her nails in a similar pose on her right, completely bored.

Ughhh.

"That Jake would be enamored with her short new do … that she would look sexy as hell!" Leila's triumphant tone earns her a roll of the eyes from Marissa and a bitch snarl.

"Jake's a man. He appreciates it when women try really hard to get a reaction from him," she responds icily with a flick of her hair. She and Jake exchange instant, harsh glares while I simmer, holding my tongue.

"You would know." Leila's scathing comment comes with a new tone I'd not heard from her … disdain … with a major attitude. I glance over at her and catch sight of the twins moving uneasily in their chairs as they lift their drinks to focus on those instead. Miracle lifts her head in interest, eyes gleaming with the possibility of drama.

"Emma doesn't need to vie for my attention; she already has it. And her hair is a knockout. Much like her," Jake cuts in smoothly, his cold gaze fixed on Marissa; everyone goes quiet and averts their eyes with a lot of fidgeting. Leila smirks.

"Man, did it just get cold in here?" Daniel jumps up from his perch on the table's edge and slaps Jake on the back, "We need a new topic and way more booze, man."

"Couldn't agree more." Jake relaxes back, leaning to peck me on the cheek softly before he turns to gesture to a waiter. I get that inward surge of smugness to match Leila's. He cut Marissa down easily and made a show with a kiss. My champion.

***

Having Jake keep the conversation light and funny helps a lot, as he's a great socializer. He knows how to keep the chatter flowing; he's attentive and quick-witted and draws everyone in, even the dreaded Marissa. All previous tension is forgotten as we all return to being happy.

He revels in company, and I can imagine what he was like in his teens, hanging out with friends. I wish I'd met him then and known what adolescent Jake was like. I imagine he wouldn't be very different, only younger, maybe with a less powerful physique and less stubble. I doubt he would have liked teenage Emma, though. Not his type at all.

The cocktails come regularly, and soon I'm warm and floaty. Despite my swaying, I manage to carry on a coherent conversation with Leila and Richard; we talk about books and movies, and the more time I spend with this girl, the more I like her.

Jake watches us and smiles, a hint of affection in his eyes. He likes that I like Leila, I guess. I realize it's a first for him, as he's never seen me warm to women in general, especially not around him. He must think I don't like my own gender.

Marissa watches me coolly from the other side of the table, flanked by Miracle, who looks bored, neither talking unless the men direct conversation their way. I get the impression they don't like Leila, me, or each other.

Suits me fine. I don't like Marissa in the slightest or the hawkeye way she watches Jake's every move.

Jake hauls me up to dance when the band comes out, and it's then that I'm fully aware of how drunk I am. I'm giggling as I try to dance with him, and there's a lot of him holding me up, keeping me from falling into other people. He's laughing as he picks me up several times to place me back on my wedge sandals, persevering with my atrocious dancing. Flirty Jake is back now; he's relaxed with way too much alcohol.

"Your moves are terrible when you're plastered, shorty." He spins me around, catching me from the back and pulling me in against him, our hips swaying in time, his muscular arms around me snugly. It's sexy yet still safe. Cuddling, but to music.

"Shhhh. I'm doing just fine," I slur playfully.

"Sure, you are. The second I let go, you'll faceplant onto the deck. I'm all that's keeping you upright," he laughs softly.

"I'm sure I wouldn't. You're exaggerating my drunkenness," I purr demurely, turning in his arms and giving him a gentle chest shove in jest. "Let me go and see."

With a shrug and a mocking smile, Jake lifts his hands and steps back with a 'know it all' look on his face, so I attempt a dance step and stumble dramatically.

Crap.

His quick reflexes mean he catches me before I kiss the floor, and he chuckles at me instead, hauling me back to that chiseled chest and hard abdomen to 'cuddle.'

"You were saying?" he raises a brow.

"Shut up," I warn, leaning back to throw a threatening finger his way, pointing ridiculously at his nose. "Not another word, Carrero," I slur.

He mimes the locking of a key over his lips and pretends to throw it away before casting me a wink and pulling me back in for another slow groove, another bout of my terrible balancing act against his body.

After another song, he gives up on our dancing and leads me back to the table with a grin while I throw a warning look and almost challenge him to mention my drunkenness again. He laughs, tugging me by the hand and pulling me in so he can lasso me instead.

Back at the table, with Jake practically carrying me with his arm around my waist, the men are in the middle of some animated story. Daniel sits on the back of the chair with his feet up on the seat; they're all laughing and joking about something mid-conversation when we approach and don't stop to acknowledge us. As we stand there to listen, Jake slides his hand from around my middle and throws it casually around my shoulders instead, resting it on me like it's the most normal thing in the world, as though we snuggle a lot.

He hands me my drink from the table before taking his beer and turning his full attention to the men. All of them are on their feet now and crowded by one side of the table; Leila is resting in the crook of Richard's arm, gazing up at him adoringly.

I can't help but stare at Jake's profile as he listens intently; of all the men here, he's by far the best-looking and most sexually appealing of the group, the whole restaurant.

I need to stop thinking this way. Bad alcohol, bad!

"Yeah, so Jake's like, 'I'm sure we can make it,' and he goes speeding off on his fucking jet ski, right in. Doesn't give a fuck." They all burst out laughing and look toward him as Daniel pats his back. I can't focus on anything except the way Marissa is watching him. She's zoned in on his every feature, biting her lip sensually and trying to seduce him with her eyes. My internal mood is churning into irritation as my chest tightens.

What the hell? Whore. So shameless!

She's a lot drunker than before we went to the dance floor. Jake seems to be avoiding her gaze, but I catch them connecting, and he flicks away every so often. I feel him physically tense every time, which alarms me on many levels.

I want to know what's going on, if these looks mean anything, if it's just irritation on his part, or if he has reason to be mad at her. Earlier, I had the impression that he didn't like her much.

But now?

I'm being paranoid and stupidly jealous, even though I have no right, but it still causes me to watch them a little too closely, nerves piqued. Vincent, her man of the moment, seems oblivious. I try to convince myself that I imagine it, that he's merely willing her to stop eye-raping him.

"What choice did I have?" Jake cuts in, oblivious, "Daniel would have had us sleeping out there at that rate. Not that he would have minded; Daniel's always trying to get in the sack with me. The boy's still trying to deny his feelings," he jests and swigs at his beer, throwing Daniel a wink.

"It's kind of heartbreaking to watch him suffer. Unrequited love," Richard breaks in, stifling a grimace as Daniel slaps his back with a noisy 'thwap.'

"Fuck you. Both of you," Daniel retaliates with an annoyed tone and no smile.

"You know when you know, right?" Vincent also throws a wink at Daniel, and three of the four men laugh. Daniel rolls his eyes and gives them the finger.

"Tried so damn hard to let him down gently; he's just too sensitive." Jake ruffles Daniel's hair playfully, chuckling at him.

"I've caught him sobbing into his Haagen Dazs a few times when you've stood him up, Jakey." Richard shoves Daniel in the ribs playfully, and they all laugh at their friend.

"He stole my Endless Love CD when you missed his birthday bash last year. Perfect crying anthems on there," Leila quips in, throwing an enormous grin at Jake, yet avoiding Hunter altogether.

"I swear to God, you guys better stop with this shit. Even if I were that way inclined, I wouldn't jump Carrero's bones. I know where he's been; I have standards," Daniel spouts. All the men turn to Jake with eyebrow wiggles, and he only sneers at them.

"Umm, I think I have way higher standards than any of you three," Jake defends himself with a frown and a haughty tone.

"Questionable," Leila says, throwing him a skeptical look, "but you've improved a lot." She then smiles at me, concealing nothing, a big hearty, playful smile.

"Leave her out of this," Jake warns, squeezing me a little too tightly. I haven't been able to help laughing along with all of them, but things shift in tone, and Jake suddenly seems tense. Mr. Protector unleashed.

"You know when you know, right?" Vincent says again, smirking Jake's way, and I try to ignore how all three men seem to look at Jake for a split second, perfectly timed with raised eyebrows and smirking expressions, eerily unified.

"Daniel certainly seems to think so." Jake makes kissing noises, releasing me to haul his friend into a headlock and plaster his cheek with wet, noisy assaults.

"Fuck off, you creep." Daniel fights as everyone snorts in laughter, everyone except Marissa. Her straight-faced, bitchy self has been observing the exchange with nothing but boredom this whole time, but she seems to change tactics as soon as the men settle down, and Jake puts his arm back around me, back to his previous position.

Marissa pouts at Jake sexily, and I bristle.

Back off, señorita. Get a grip and take a hint!

"Admit it. You've been planning the Hunter-Carrero wedding since you were just a little girl. It's kind of sweet, really," Jake teases, prodding Daniel with his beer bottle and receiving a one-fingered salute as a response.

"You're riding dangerously close to a Hunter-free existence," Daniel retorts, "then we'll see which dude is crying into his Haagen Dazs. We all know Mr. Smooth Carrero has the biggest man crush on me." Daniel picks up a beer, mimes throwing his hair back like a woman, and flutters his eyelashes.

"In your dreams, pretty boy. I'm hoping for a threesome with the twins." Jake winks at Vincent and Richard, who throw on matching 'eww' faces. Everyone laughs, even Marissa this time, and then she goes and ruins the atmosphere by biting her lip suggestively again and making direct eye contact with Jake. She's practically screaming, "Take me." I hate her!

I turn my head into his chest softly, unsure why I feel like I should be sending her messages. Jake seems to adjust his hold so I can comfortably move in and lay my head against his neck. His arm moves further around to accommodate me, and he switches his beer bottle to his left hand, so it hangs in front of me.

His other takes my empty cocktail glass from me and puts it down. He doesn't falter and continues talking to his buddies as though my snuggling closer is the most natural thing in the world for us. None of the group seems even to acknowledge the way we are cuddled up together or the way he slides towards me to allow me to get even closer to his torso. I listen to his heart's steady, strong thud under his shirt, enjoying the solid muscle under my cheek.

Now they're talking about some trip last summer, and I lose interest in it as soon as I realize that Marissa had been there too, not with a guy in tow to occupy her. Again, a look on her face is aimed at Jake, and I assume its meaning is to rekindle a sexual memory.

Had she been his hook-up on that trip? God, please, tell me no.

I shake the thought away, nausea rising with a sharp pain in my heart, gulping down my instant fury.

The waitress comes with a tray, laying another round of drinks on the canopied table. Jake hands me a fresh cocktail with his free hand, his mouth lingering close to my temple longer than necessary as though he's watching me or feeling my hair against his face. Maybe I imagine it, but I like the gentle intimacy.

The cocktail tastes terrific; I've no idea what he ordered for me this time, but it has a tropical coconut flavor, and I could drink it like juice. He has a knack for buying me drinks I like, constantly varying them, so I don't get bored with them. He knows me a little too well.

He lets go of me as he bends down to look at a picture on Hunter's cell, which he's holding out, some past memory they're all discussing, and I feel strangely lost. His sudden departure from my body makes me realize that I was only happily listening to this group the way I was because of him. He always grounds me and makes me comfortable wherever we are, and I forget that I am out of place.

I tense as I catch Marissa gazing up at him with doe-eyed innocence and a suggestive part of her lips. She's seriously ruining my calm. He pauses and sees her glance before turning his head back to me with a quick smile, straightening up, and returning his arm around my shoulders. This time, though, he pulls me in tightly and kisses me on the side of my face quickly and firmly. I experience an instant rush of warmth and satisfaction at his touch and equally at Marissa's frosty scowl. I guess he's sending her a message telling her to back off, and I'm reaping the rewards. I can't say I mind, glad to be back in his arms, back to safety and warmth.

"You're very quiet; want to go back to the boat?" he asks softly for my ears only, his eyes on mine, the restaurant around us fading away.

"Yes, please; I'm so tired. It's been a long day," I smile faintly, but I know I should say, "I'm actually really drunk, and I'm probably going to fall over or pass out." The truth is, I want to get far away from Marissa and her silent messages across the table. She's like a thorn I can't pull out, and I am so over her.

"Oooh, party on the boat," Leila chants and jumps up, impressively bouncing her boobs while all male eyes immediately follow, and it causes me to dig Jake in the ribs with a mock "Hey!" to get him to behave. He gives me an apologetic shrug and grin.

Casanova Carrero, what will I do with you?

Men! And their inability to let an opportunity pass for looking at a decent cleavage, even if it's someone they are not screwing.