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

“I’m going for a run … I’ll pack when I get back.” He makes to move away, but falters, reaching out, he shoves my shoulder so that my laptop slips slightly. I snap my chin up to look at him, surprised, and identify the wariness and the glint of playful. He’s trying to make amends; he’s trying to smooth it over and get back to yesterday too. I relax with a sigh; there’s my Jake, back to being adolescent, trying to make me smile and it’s working. Our stupid juvenile way.

“I’m suing you for sexual harassment.” I chuckle shyly. Making light of it all, hopeful that it’ll work. My heart still beating fast, wanting to just let this go.

“I’ll blame Jack Daniels for my misdemeanors. I was in no way in control of my faculties last night.” He smiles, filled with relief, the tension between us evaporates and he ruffles my hair in his irritating manner.

“Go away and have your run. Stop annoying me.” I mock pout and smile to myself as he wanders off, giving me a backward glance and a cheeky grin.

We’re okay. It’s done …

Back to how we were. Like it never happened.

* * *

I drop my pen several times and catch him frowning at me several more, alerting me to the fact I’m twisting my hair absent-mindedly.

When the hell did that habit return? That crap stopped months ago when I relaxed with my new boss.

I’ve been so antsy and jumpy on this flight; I think it’s the lack of sleep. It’s a six-hour flight, give or take, and so far, I’ve spent most of it rereading the same document in front of me. My focus is shot so I slide the laptop closed and check my cell for the twentieth time.

Jake’s now asleep in his seat, with headphones on, listening to his playlist before he dropped off. I smile as I recognize a song with the lyrics “Cry Baby” playing quietly even from here. Our passing of jokes song.

still only in his twenties. I know he’s older than me, but still, it’s only

Cool and relaxed like his mother. Effortlessly laid

to fly us home. I’ve rarely slept

for an hour. I know I keep adjusting my position and I pick up my pen so many times, just to have something to fiddle

me with heavy lids, all boyish yet handsome at the same time. My heart

position he’s slept in, but his

so it barely grazes my

that will relax you.” He returns the same gesture, and I start frowning with the ghost of

“What?” suspicion rising internally.

head back in its previous position and closes his eyes.

Caribbean … And you don’t get to

***

jazz music coming from Sarah’s room, the distinct smell of Marcus’s aftershave in the sitting room, and a half empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. I sigh, bristling inside and ponder showing up at Jake’s

I don’t attempt to call out again. I just go to my room and dump my luggage by the bed, glad to be home, yet at the same time

side by side, so being apart feels abnormal. Even though we do occasionally spend weekends apart, somehow the recent non-stop chaos of trips and work days flowing into each other has meant a long few weeks of barely, rarely, being separated and I guess it’s why I feel it more now than ever. I haul open my suitcase and discard some of the dirty laundry into the hamper, plug my technology into the chargers

with Jake’s name, lighting the screen. I pick It up with a smile that lifts my mood and I warm at the familiar

has gifted you an

swipe open the screen without hesitation and open the email, beaming

you “Bryan Adams” – “When You’re

song well and laugh at his cuteness. I guess he’s feeling the same; like his right hand has been removed. I laugh at the pun, scrolling iTunes, looking for an appropriate title while listening to the song he’s sent me. So very Jake, with his love of crooning rock stars.