The Josh and Kat Trilogy: A Bundle of Books 1-3

by Lauren Rowe

  She grins. “Of course. Sapphire blue to match your eyes.”

  “Garment bag for the blue one, truck for the others. I’ll wear the blue one Thursday night.” I wink. “Gotta look sharp for my big night.”

  “Oh, it’s a big night?”

  “It sure is. I’m finally gonna talk about my fucking feelings—to a girl.”

  “To a girl? Ooooh. Wow. That is big.” She beams a huge smile at me. “Lucky girl.”

  “That’s what I told her.”

  Theresa laughs.

  “I’m not kidding, unfortunately. That’s exactly what I told her.”

  Theresa grimaces.

  “Yeah. So now I’ve got my work cut out for me to get myself out of the doghouse.”

  “Ooph. I think we’d better add a cellist. Sounds like an emergency.”

  My smile broadens. “Thanks, T.”

  “You’re very welcome, Josh.”

  “I mean, you know, thanks for everything.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “Hey, how about we make that raise thirty percent? Sound good?”

  Theresa makes a “meh” face. “Well, thirty percent is certainly good. Nothing to sneeze at—believe me, I’m grateful for your generosity. But you only live once, right? Why not ‘go big or go home,’ I always say?”

  “Ah, you want ‘the whole nine yards,’ huh, T?”

  Theresa laughs. “You’ve rubbed off on me, I guess.”

  “Okay. Forty percent. But that’s my final offer.”

  Theresa nods. “I think that sounds about right.” She winks.

  I laugh. “Okay. Forty it is—until the next time you squeeze me, that is.” With that, I turn around and waltz out my front door, a spring in my step and a gleam in my eye for the first time in an entire fucking week.

  Ninety-Eight

  Josh

  “Six-ball in the side pocket,” I say. I bend over the pool table and sink my shot with a loud clack.

  “Kat turned you down?” Jonas says, incredulous.

  “Third worst day of my entire life,” I say. “She hit me with a mean left cross followed by a crushing right hook. Bam! Right on the chin.”

  “I can only imagine. Sounds horrible, Josh.”

  “Four-ball off the bumper, ricochet off the seven-ball into the corner pocket,“ I say. I line up my shot carefully, whack the white cue ball with confidence, and sink the four, exactly as described. “Damn, I’m good,” I say.

  “Pretty impressive.”

  “My life may be falling down around my ears, but I can still sink a goddamned billiard ball, motherfucker.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t here for you when all this shit was happening. Sounds like you took it pretty hard.”

  “No worries, bro. ’Twas merely a flesh wound. I’m over it now—back in the saddle. Two-ball in the far corner—straight shot.” I bend down over the table and take my shot, but I’ve miscalculated the angle by a hair and the ball rebounds off the bumper. “Shit,” I say. “Goddammit. I always miss the easy ones.” I motion to Jonas. “Okay, go ahead and run the table now, bro. I’ll just sit down for the rest of the game.”

  “You never know,” Jonas says, rubbing chalk on the end of his stick. “I haven’t played in months—I might be rusty.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I say, leaning against the wall. “You’ve never been rusty at anything in your life.”

  Jonas walks around the table, surveying his first shot. “I’m thinking the seven-ball off the bumper right here and then off your two-ball into the side pocket,” Jonas says.

  “Pfft. Good luck with that—tough angle, bro. Just do the three. The three’s a clean shot.”

  “No, the three’s a red herring. If I sink the seven first, then I’ll have my whole table set up for me like clockwork.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Oh, I do.” Jonas bends over, takes his complicated shot, and sinks it with ease.

  “Goddamn, you.” I roll my eyes. “I hate playing against you. Against everyone else, I’m a fucking beast.”

  “I’m sure you are. So how far along is she?”

  “Almost ten weeks.”

  Jonas whistles. “Wow.”

  “Last week, the baby was the size of a grape. This week, it’s already the size of a kumquat.” I can’t help smiling to myself. The Kumquat’s carrying a kumquat.

  “Good to see you smiling about it.”

  I pause, surprised. “It’s actually kind of amazing how fast a guy can adjust to a new reality when there’s no other option,” I say.

  “Happiness depends upon ourselves,’” Jonas says.

  “Gosh, thanks, Plato.”

  “Aristotle. You want Plato?”

  “No,” I say.

  “‘There are two things a person should never be angry at: what they can help, and what they cannot.’”

  “Incredibly profound,” I say. “I feel magically better now. Hey, you wanna see something wild?” I pull out my phone and show Jonas the sonogram video Kat sent me the other day.

  “Sarah was there?” Jonas asks at the sound of Sarah’s voice asking the doctor to explain the image on the sonogram screen.

  “Yeah. Kat blabbed to her at lunch right before her doctor’s appointment. I guess Sarah didn’t wanna steal my thunder by telling you—she thought I should break the news to you.” I put my hands out like ta-da! “‘Hey, Jonas—you’re gonna be an uncle!’” I say with faux excitement. “There, I told you.”

  Jonas shakes his head. “I’m impressed Sarah was able to keep such a big secret.”

  “Kat couldn’t keep a secret to save her life,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Actually, I wouldn’t have minded Sarah telling you. I wish I could crawl under a rock and not have to tell anyone, to be honest.”

  “You’re not jumping for joy about your impending fatherhood, I take it?”

  “Pretty much shitting a brick.”

  “So when’s the baby due?” Jonas asks. He calls another shot and sinks it with ease, yet again, and I place my stick on a rack in the corner in utter resignation.

  “December second,” I reply. “Sagittarius.”

  “Sagittarius?”

  “Just like Henn.”

  Jonas laughs. “Oh, shit. That’d be funny if you had a kid just like Henn.”

  I can’t help but join Jonas laughing. That really would be funny.

  “So do you believe all that astrology stuff?” Jonas asks.

  I shrug. “Sort of. Kat’s kind of made a believer out of me, actually.”

  Jonas surveys the table, lining up his next shot. “I can’t believe you’re gonna be a father, Josh.”

  “So I’m told.”

  Jonas stands upright from the table and assesses me for a long beat. “You’re gonna be a fantastic father.”

  My cheeks feel hot all of a sudden. “You really think so?”

  “I know so. You were born to be a father, Josh—more than anyone I know. It’s in your DNA—you got it from Mom. You take care of people—it’s who you are—who you’ve always been.”

  “Wow. Thank you.”

  “It’s the God’s truth. That’s one lucky kid.”

  I bite my lip. “Thanks, Jonas.”

  Jonas leans over the pool table again, assessing his next shot. “Can you even imagine what Dad would be saying right now? ‘I’ll disown you faster than that gold-digger can demand a paternity test!’”

  “Dude, stop, please. I don’t have to imagine it—I’ve been hearing Dad’s voice screaming in my ear since Kat dropped the baby-bomb on me.”

  Jonas calls his next shot and sinks it with ease.

  “Mr. Faraday?”

  I look toward the door. It’s the violinist Theresa hired for me, a petite Asian woman in a black dress.

  “The cellist and I are all set up in the dining room,” the woman says. “Do you want us to stay hidden in the kitchen until your signal, or... how do you wanna play this?”

  I look at my watch. Kat should be here in just under
thirty minutes. “I think you should start playing the minute my girlfriend walks through the front door—you know, set the mood right away that this is gonna be a magical night for her.”

  “Okay, great,” the violinist says. “We’ll just stand in position and wait for your signal, then.”

  “Why don’t you start playing the minute the doorbell rings? That can be your signal.”

  “Perfect. Oh, and the chef wanted me to tell you he’s all ready, too. He has a few questions.”

  “Great. Will you tell him I’ll be right out? I’m about to get my ass whooped. Shouldn’t take too long.”

  She chuckles and leaves.

  “Wow, you’re really going balls to the wall here,” Jonas says. “Flowers. Candles. Chef. Violin. Cello. I gotta get everyone’s contact info from you—Sarah would go nuts for something like this.”

  “Email T-Rod and ask her for the info—she set everything up for me.”

  Jonas leans down and lines up his next shot. “Well, yeah, I figured.”

  “She just gouged me for a forty percent raise, by the way. The woman’s a shark.”

  “She deserves every penny.”

  I laugh. “True.”

  “Oh, which reminds me—thanks for the bottle of champagne and fruit basket you sent to Sarah and me in Mykonos to congratulate us on our engagement. So thoughtful of you.”

  We both burst out laughing.

  “You’re so welcome,” I say. “It was the least I could do.”

  “I ought to chip in for half of Theresa’s raise. Half the shit you do for me is probably her.”

  “I’m not gonna dignify that with a response,” I say, though he’s one hundred percent right.

  “One-ball in the side pocket,” Jonas says, just before sinking the shot. “So did Theresa help you pick out Kat’s ring, too? Something that’ll ‘sear her corneas’—I believe was the phrase you used when you nagged me about it?”

  “Oh, no,” I say, scoffing. “I’m not proposing to Kat tonight. I’m not a fucking masochist. I already asked her once and she practically flipped me the bird. Getting disemboweled once by Kat was plenty, thank you very much.”

  “What the fuck did you say to Kat when you asked her? I don’t understand why she said no.”

  “Actually, I think her exact words were, ‘I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last goddamned man on earth.’”

  Jonas grimaces. “Wow, that’s pretty harsh.”

  “That’s Kat for you—you never wonder where you stand with her.”

  “Josh, seriously. Why’d she turn you down? I don’t understand. You love each other, right? And she’s carrying your baby. So it should be a no-brainer—you two should get married.”

  I shrug. “I pissed her off. It’s not hard to do—trust me. And now she doesn’t wanna marry me. Which is fine because I don’t wanna get married.” I motion to the pool table. “Take your shot, bro. Kat will be here soon.”

  “But if you’re not gonna ask Kat to marry you tonight, then what the fuck are you doing with the violin and the chef?”

  I grin. “Tonight’s gonna be even better than a marriage proposal. I’m giving Kat a once-in-a-lifetime gift—and then I’m finally gonna tell her the three little words.”

  Jonas raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “You haven’t already told her you love her?”

  My stomach clenches. He’s making me feel insecure. “No. I’m gonna tell her tonight. Plus, like I said, I’m gonna give her a gift she’ll never forget.”

  “But you already asked her to marry you.”

  “Correct.”

  “I’m totally confused. You proposed marriage to Kat without telling her you love her?”

  I nod, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. It sounds so wrong when he says it in that holier-than-thou tone of voice.

  Jonas scowls at me. “You said ‘Will you marry me, Kat?’ but you didn’t also say ‘I love you more than the air I breathe, Kat’?”

  I nod. I wish he’d drop it already.

  “Josh, what the fuck did you say to Kat when you asked her to marry you? I can’t for the life of me fathom what you said if it didn’t include the words ‘I love you more than life itself and I can’t live without you.’”

  I shift my weight. I feel my cheeks flushing. “I just told her, you know...”

  Jonas waits for me to finish my sentence, and when I don’t, he shakes his head at me, bends over the table, and lines up his next shot. “Nine-ball off the ten, then off the side, and then into the side pocket.” He sinks his shot in one fluid, confident motion.

  “Why do I even bother playing pool with you?” I say. “If I don’t run the table out of the gate, I might as well just sit the fuck down. It’s pointless.”

  “Three in the far corner.” He bends over and sinks his shot. “How could you possibly propose marriage to a woman and not tell her you love her in the same breath?”

  I roll my eyes. “Jonas, come on. I’d just found out Kat’s pregnant with my accidental spawn. I was a deer in headlights. Love was the furthest thing from my mind. I was just trying to do the right thing.”

  Jonas grimaces. “Well, shit. No wonder Kat turned you down—rightfully so, you dumbshit.” He calls his next shot and sinks it with startling ease.

  “Yeah, fuck it—it doesn’t matter. It all worked out for the best,” I say, feeling defensive. “Kat really did me a big favor by saying no. I didn’t know it then, of course—at the time, it felt like Kat was kicking me in the teeth—but now I see she was the only one thinking clearly. Holy shit, I can’t believe I just said that about Kat.”

  Jonas stands completely upright and rests his hands on the end of his pool cue, staring at me intensely. “Do you love her?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I do. Without a doubt.”

  “And she’s carrying your baby?”

  I nod. “Yeah, we’ve already established that fact. I showed you the video, remember?”

  “Then marry the girl, for fuck’s sake, Josh. It’s not that complicated.”

  I exhale in exasperation.

  “Josh, Kat obviously turned you down because you were asking her out of obligation, not love. If you ask her again, but this time tell her you love her, she’ll say yes—I guarantee it.”

  I wave Jonas off. “I’m not gonna ask Kat again. Once was enough. The truth is I have no interest in getting married, not even to Kat. If I wanna be with someone, I’ll be with them. And if I wanna go, then I’ll go. And it’s the same for her. I think it’s more satisfying to know the other person’s there because they want to be—not because they have to be based on some stupid piece of paper from the government.”

  Jonas shakes his head but he doesn’t speak. After a moment, he surveys the table again. “Eight-ball, rebounding off your two, and then into the far right corner.” He sinks his shot and wins the game.

  “Goddammit, Jonas. I hate playing against you.”

  Jonas puts his stick on the rack, his jaw muscles tight.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  “Dude, I can tell you’ve got something to say. Just say it.”

  “Nope. I’ve got nothing to say. Congratulations on telling Kat you love her tonight. Big step. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear it.”

  “Jonas,” I say, exhaling. “You don’t understand. I’m gonna support my kid, okay? I’m gonna be the best father I can be. That’s a given. And I’m hopefully gonna raise the kid with Kat because I love her and wanna be with her. She’s the most incredible woman I’ve ever been with and I can’t imagine finding anyone better, ever. But I’m not the marrying kind of guy. I don’t need a piece of paper forcing me to be with Kat—I’m gonna be with her because I want to be.”

  There’s a long beat.

  “Cool,” Jonas says, clearly brushing me off. “Congrats. Come on. The chef wanted to talk to you, remember?”

  “Yeah, and you gotta get the fuck out before Kat gets here.” I look at my watch. “Kat’s supposed
to be here in ten minutes—which means she’ll be here in thirty.”

  We start walking toward the dining area.

  I keep expecting Jonas to say something, but he doesn’t.

  “What?” I finally say. “Just say it.”

  Jonas presses his lips together.

  “Fuck, Jonas. I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You do? What am I thinking?”

  “You’re thinking I should propose to Kat again. And, yeah, I know that’s the way we were raised—you get a girl pregnant, you marry her. No other option. I know that’s what Dad would demand of me. But I’m not beholden to Dad anymore. He’s gone—he made his choice—and I’m a grown-ass man. I’ve decided I’m not gonna ask Kat to marry me and that’s final. It’s my choice. I love her, I really do, and that’s enough. I’ve decided I’m gonna love Kat with all my heart and be committed to her and help her raise our baby and we’ll just see what happens between her and me. If she wants to go, she can. Same for me.” I’m breathing heavily. My chest is tight. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Mr. Faraday?” It’s the chef, accompanied by a guy in a tux. “How are you this evening, sir? This is Gregory. He’ll be serving you tonight.”

  The four of us shake hands.

  “Is this your guest for the evening?” The chef asks, motioning to Jonas.

  Jonas and I look at each other and laugh.

  “No. This is my brother. He’s just leaving. My guest will be arriving in a few minutes.”

  “But I’d love to get your card,” Jonas says. “I’m thinking about hiring you guys as a surprise for my fiancée.”

  I smile at the exuberant tone of Jonas’ voice when he says the word “fiancée.”

  “When’s the wedding?” the chef asks.

  “Exactly three weeks from today.”

  “Oh. Congratulations.”

  “World’s shortest engagement,” Jonas says, laughing. “And she’s not even pregnant.”

  I glare at him. Low blow.

  Jonas winks at me.

  “So, Mr. Faraday,” the chef says, addressing me. “I just had a few questions...” He runs through his menu items, making sure I’m happy with each course as he plans to prepare it, and I give him approval on everything.