I wake up and try to stretch out, but I’m restricted by Jake’s heavy body, wrapped around me like
always. If I have one complaint about my lover, it’s this unearthly way of sleeping. He literally manages
to get as much skin on skin and limb twisting as possible and somehow maneuvers me into positions
while unconscious that defy the human body’s ability to bend.
I slide a leg out from between his, rotating my foot to get some feeling back and attempt at retrieving an
arm which has gone to sleep pressed under his weight. He is impossible to get loose from in bed, the
second I move free he reaches out and re-curls himself to me, pulling my limbs to how he wants them
around him. He’s sleeping heavily, I can tell by his deep, even breaths, so moving slowly I manage to
get myself loose with some effort.
Sitting up beside him, I gently stroke his cheek with a smile on my face. His sleeping habits are more of
an insecure child longing for cuddles than the confident awake Carrero, just another layer to my
fascinating man that endears him to me.
I get up, finding a robe quickly and head out to the upper deck for some air. It’s dark but the horizon
has hints of color as though sunrise is not far away, the air is cool and refreshing after his stifling body
temperature.
I was dreaming about my mother again, lately she’s been plaguing my thoughts. I don’t know if it’s
because of Jake being in my life this way, I somehow feel obliged to tell her, or if it’s just being with him
which has started to make me feel differently about my decision to see her again. She is still my mother
and being with Jake has shown me what she’s always been searching for and never found, which, in a
way, is sad. That one guy who can bring such happiness to her life, the way Jake has mine and I have
some remorse about it now.
Is it wrong to want to find love? To be that desperate for it that you push away all the bad and try not to
see it.
There’s no denying he’s changed me in so many ways, he’s brought that cold ice queen PA back in
touch with emotions and feelings that I could never have imagined coming back to. Changed my way of
thinking completely.
I’ve seen my mother in a different light and yet come back around to feeling some sort of forgiveness
toward her in such a short space of time. Maybe it’s because Jake told me about my father and
somehow, it’s made my mother more appealing to me. Despite her flaws she kept me, raised me, and
in her own way, I know she loves me. No amount of money in the world would have made her walk
away, even when she chose her lovers over me, in the end it was I who left and she never tired of
asking me to come back to Chicago.
I breathe in slowly and deeply, finally cool enough to go back below deck, tiredness fogging out the
thoughts which woke me. The call of his body luring me back to lay beside him, as though it’s starting
to fade at his lack of presence. I am a butterfly who needs the sun to fly and he is that light for me.
I climb back in bed slowly, he’s shifted in his sleep, so he’s moved away to lie on his back and it’s
easier for me to lay down beside him. Placing my head on his chest, his arm automatically comes
around me, pulling me up tight against him, his chin comes to my head. He makes me smile; even
asleep he somehow has this sixth sense that I’m here. I wrap my arm around his ribs and close my
eyes, trying to push my mother out of my mind’s eye for the time being.
“I’m awake, baby.” His voice startles me. “I woke up and figured you needed some ‘you’ time … I
always wake up when you leave me.” I sense his smile against my hair, the irony of his sentence. He
told me that my going away had been a huge wake up call to how much he needs me. I shake my head
at his cheesiness and throw a light kiss on his broad chest.
“I was thinking about my mother … I guess I’d been dreaming about her.” I shrug nonchalantly and
sigh.
“You thinking you maybe want to see her?” he asks cautiously, he still has no idea how to tread over
the subject of my mother. As far as I know, he thinks I should have a relationship with her because she
gave birth to me. I’ve always known he had some mixed feelings about the woman who left me
subjected to so much in my youth, but his own relationship with his mamma has made him ignore
them.
“I don’t know anymore.” I exhale heavily. “Part of me never wants to see her again …… Then part of
me feels like I’ve so much more to say to her.” His other arm comes across and envelopes me in a
tighter hug, cradling me in.
“She’s still your mamma. I think you’ll always regret not trying to talk to her again. If you want to see
her, I’ll come with you … For moral support.” His hand moves up to my hair and begins caressing my
scalp gently.
“I think I’d like that,” I utter softly, closing my eyes and listening to the steady beat of his heart in his
chest, lulling me back into calmness. I think about the fact that old Emma never wanted Jake near her
past or her mother, yet here we and I’m happy to have him with me.
His chest rises and fall a little more quickly and his arm tenses a touch making me take note of his
sudden change in demeanor. I open my eyes, aware of how in tune I’ve become to him, how he seems
hesitant suddenly.
Does he maybe not want to come to Chicago?
“What is it?” I ask bluntly, alerted and I too tense, sensing something is off. He sighs heavily as though
he’s just been busted and stiffens all over.
“I had a message on my phone when I woke up.” He sighs again. “We might need to cut this trip short,
miele.” He lets go of me and slides out of the bed, reaching for his jeans and pulls them on before
coming to sit back down to take my hand. I can see his face in the moonlight coming in the uncovered
window ports. I’ve learned that when he thinks an argument is likely he’ll always get up and pull pants
on. It amuses me as somewhere in my head I wonder if he’s protecting his tackle in case things get
frisky. Maybe he thinks I’ll go in for the kill below the waist in anger. It only makes me anxious now that
he thinks a fight is brewing.
“Why? … What is it?” I stutter in confusion and my heart beats a little harder.
“Marissa … She’s demanding that we sit down with lawyers, she wants our agreements in writing. A
contract so to speak, and my father is pushing for it like crazy. She also wants to talk money and her
requests. If I ignore her, she’ll only keep hounding me and ruin our time here.” The tightness in his
voice makes my skin prickle and irritation sparks as that green eyed me kicks out.
“She wants what? Does she think you’re going to go back on your promises? She doesn’t need your
money; her family is as loaded as yours, and what goddamn requests? You owe her nothing, until that
baby comes then she’s nothing to you … Your relationship will be with the kid, not her!” I snap, my rage
getting the better of me and the rush of negative emotion fuels my outpouring. Sitting up quickly, my
insecurity and jealousy showing face in unison. He leans forward grabbing me and pulls me over
toward him, his hand stroking my cheek gently in a bid to calm me.
“She thinks I won’t commit to the classes and being at the birth because I now have a vested interest
elsewhere … You … It’s also pushed her to demand that you’ll not be included in the trips to LA or the
relationship I have with her, and that after the birth you can’t have anything to do with the baby unless I
marry you,” he says hurriedly, an edge to his tone as he rushes to get it out.
I gasp in shock … Confusion crushing me.
What? She’s threatened by me? She’s trying to drive a wedge between us in the only way she can.
It’s obvious she’s still in love with Jake and this is her biggest weapon. She’s going to use his child as a
pawn to maneuver him to meet her demands and try to tear us apart in the process.
“You’re going to agree?” I snap in anger, his hands tightening on me as tears gather in the back of my
eyes, stinging with a bite.
“No! Why would you think that?” He frowns. “She can’t dictate who I take with me on my own fucking
plane to LA, or who stays in the hotel with me, she doesn’t own me. She’s not my goddamn wife. Once
that kid arrives, if she wants me to have access then she’ll need to get used to the fact you’ll be there,
whether we’re married or not.” He gets up, letting me go and paces back and forth in agitation. “She
doesn’t need money, but I’m giving her money anyway, for our child … Not for her. Marissa is
manipulative, it’s a fucking gift of hers, she thinks by throwing in the jibe about marriage that I’ll run for
the hills because she thinks I’m a commitment-phobe.” He sneers. “She’s no idea how different things
are with you … If I need to marry you to let you see my kid, I’ll marry you tomorrow, because I’ll marry
you anyway … Now or in the future, Emma, you’re going to be my wife.” He storms around letting that
infamous temper rip and I just gawp at him, stupefied.
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