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

by Lauren Rowe

  Kat’s father steeples his fingers under his chin and exhales. “Josh, I really appreciate everything you just said, believe me—it’s good to hear. And I’m glad you two are in love. That’s great. But what about ten years from now? Are you gonna draft some sort of support agreement, in case things don’t work out between the two of you—or is this just, you know, we’ll see how it goes and whatever?”

  I feel like he just punched me in the balls.

  “Dad,” Kat says, sounding exactly like her mother did a moment ago.

  Kat’s father shrugs. “It has to be said, honey. If no one else is gonna say it on your behalf, then I sure will. You need some form of commitment about the future, one way or another.”

  I swallow hard. “I’d be happy to sign a support agreement,” I say, my blood whooshing into my ears. “I’ll have my lawyer draft it up. As I say, I’m making a commitment to be a father in every way. My word is my bond, every bit as binding as any written agreement. I have no qualms about memorializing my verbal promise in writing.”

  Kat looks utterly appalled. “Jeez, this isn’t some kind of corporate acquisition, Dad. I’m not chattel.” She turns her gaze on me, her eyes blazing. “You don’t need to call your lawyer, Josh—our relationship is between you and me. We don’t need legal documentation.”

  “I’m not talking about your relationship—I’m talking about the child,” Kat’s dad says. “I’m talking about securing my grandchild’s future and therefore yours.”

  Kat shoots an icy glare at her father. “With all due respect, it’s none of your business, Dad. Josh has promised to take care of the baby and that’s his only obligation as far as I’m concerned. He owes me absolutely nothing. Our relationship will rise or fall, just like anyone else’s, whether we have a piece of paper making us official in the eyes of the government or not.” Oh man, she’s ramping up into full terrorist-mode. “You and mom don’t realize how unique you are. Saying marriage vows doesn’t guarantee anyone a happily ever after, Dad. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce—did you know that? The piece of paper doesn’t guarantee a damned thing. In fact, the divorce rate’s the highest among couples who married for no other reason than an accidental pregnancy.” She sniffs. “So no thanks to that.”

  “Kat, don’t get all riled up—” Kat’s father begins. But, surely, he must know his words are pointless. Kat’s already riled up and she’s not even close to coming down.

  “Josh and I have talked about it, Dad. We don’t believe in marriage for the sake of marriage. All that matters is that Josh is gonna be a father to this baby—which he’s promised to be,” she continues, her head held high. “The rest will take care of itself. We’ll just live in the moment and do our best, which is all anyone can do, anyway, whether they’ve got a piece of paper or not. I don’t even want to get married, to tell you the truth. The idea of it freaks me out. I’d much rather stay because I want to stay and go if I want to go.” She’s practically panting. Damn, apparently her father hit a nerve. Jesus. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

  “Kat, you’re flying off the handle. I was just—”

  “No, I’m not. You’re butting in where you don’t belong, Dad. I’m twenty-four. And Josh is thirty.”

  I don’t particularly like the way Kat just said my age. She said it like I’m older than the hills.

  “And we’ve decided, after discussing it like reasonable adults, that we don’t want to get married. It’s just not for us. In fact, I wouldn’t even say yes if Josh proposed this very minute at this table—I really wouldn’t.”

  I make a face of surprise. Is she serious?

  “And do you know why?” Kat asks, forging right ahead, breathing hard. “Because I don’t want to get married for the sake of a kid and nothing more. That’s just a recipe for unhappiness and I’m not about to—”

  “Kitty,” Kat’s mom says sharply, shutting Kat up. “Honey, you need to stop now. Please.”

  Kat’s mouth is hanging open. Her chest is heaving. Her eyes are bugging out.

  Kat’s mom strokes Kat’s cheek, obviously trying to calm her batshit crazy daughter down. “Honey, your father and I support you, one hundred percent. Don’t we, Thomas?”

  “Of course.”

  “Now see?” Louise exhales loudly. “Good lord, Kat.”

  Kat takes a seat and so do I.

  “Goodness gracious,” Louise says, moving back to her chair on the other side of the table. “You get so riled up sometimes, honey.”

  Ryan chuckles.

  “I’m sorry,” Kat’s dad says. “You’re right. You’re both adults. It’s none of my business. I was just looking out for you. But it’s your life. I’m sorry.” He sighs and puts his hand on his forehead. “I was just trying to help.”

  Kat lurches around the table and into her father’s arms and he hugs her.

  “You’re sure you’re okay, honey?” he whispers.

  Kat nods into his chest. “I was scared at first but now I’m happy and excited. And Josh is amazing, Dad. You’ll see. I love him so much, Dad.”

  “I was just looking out for you because I love you so much.”

  “I know, Daddy. I know.”

  I clutch my chest. I’ve never seen a father behave like this with his kid. This is straight out of a movie. He told her he loves her—even after she told him she royally fucked up. And now he’s hugging her and kissing her cheek, showering her with fatherly affection? Wow. This is the kind of father I’m gonna be, I think. Just like this.

  “Okay,” Kat’s father says. He kisses his daughter’s cheek again. “I’m glad you’re happy. Just wait. You’re gonna love this baby more than you ever thought possible—and so will we.” He looks at me. “I’m sorry, Josh. I didn’t mean to butt in where I’m not wanted and I certainly didn’t mean to imply you were gonna shirk your obligations as a father. I’m just not used to this new way of doing things, I guess.” He smiles ruefully at his wife and she flashes him a sympathetic face. “I’m too old-fashioned for my own good sometimes.”

  “You don’t have to worry about Josh’s intentions,” Kat says. “Babe, show my dad your arm.” She addresses her dad. “Josh got a girlfriend-tattoo in my honor.”

  I know Kat means well, but, at this particular moment, hearing Kat call my permanent declaration of love for her a “girlfriend-tattoo” feels like she just called me a flop-dick.

  “Show ’em,” Kat says. “Wait ’til you see this, Dad—then you’ll understand how much Josh loves me.”

  I have zero desire to bare my Kat-inspired tattoo to her family, but I obviously can’t leave her hanging. Begrudgingly, I roll up my sleeve to display the full expanse of my bicep—and everyone instantly expresses amazement and amusement all at once.

  “What’s ‘PG’ on her collar?” Ryan asks, leaning in to get a closer look.

  “Party Girl,” I say. “The first night I met Kat, I asked her how a magazine article would label her if they were writing an oversimplified article about her, and she said, ‘They’d call me a Party Girl with a Heart of Gold.’”

  Kat’s entire family expresses agreement with that assessment.

  “I wanted to put K-U-M on the collar, but I figured Kat would kill me if I told the entire world her initials.”

  “Ha!” Ryan says, looking at Kat. “You don’t want the world to know you’re name is semen, Jizz? You see what you did to your poor daughter, Mom? You’ve scarred her for life. She’d rather be known as a party girl than get called Kum Shot everywhere she goes.”

  Kat’s mom rolls her eyes. “Only you guys would even think to call her that. Katherine Ulla is a beautiful name.”

  “Sure it is, Mom,” Ryan retorts. “That wasn’t a cruel thing to do to your one and only daughter at all—was it Kum Shot?”

  “Stop it,” Kat’s mom snaps. “You won’t be able to say that in front of your niece or nephew, you know, so you’d better start cleaning up your act now.”

  “Not gonna happen, Mom,” Ryan says br
eezily. “That baby will think Kum Shot is Mommy’s given name.”

  Kat’s mom covers her face with her hands.

  “I like the two olives in the martini glass,” Dax says, scrutinizing my arm. “Nice touch.”

  Kat kisses her dad on his cheek. “See, Dad? A man doesn’t get a tattoo for his girlfriend lightly.” She smiles broadly. “I’d say it’s pretty serious.”

  Shit. Yet again, I know Kat means well, but every time she uses the word “girlfriend” I feel like she’s calling me flop-dick.

  “Hey, Kumquat,” Colby says, breaking his silence. “What’s a guy with a broken leg gotta do around here to get a hug from his pregnant sister?”

  Kat breaks away from her dad and bounds to the end of the table where Colby’s marooned with his leg in a cast. Gingerly, Kat takes Colby’s face in her hands and kisses him on the cheek and the two of them hug for a long minute.

  “What the hell is ‘chattel,’ by the way?” Colby asks softly into Kat’s hair. “And why the hell do you know that word?”

  Kat laughs. “Sarah always says it. I think it just means, you know, like when a woman used to be a man’s property?”

  “Ah. I see.” Colby locks eyes with me. “Welcome to the family, Josh,” he says. “I think you’ll find it’s a pretty fucking awesome family—excuse my language, Mom.”

  “Oh, well, shit, that’s okay,” Kat’s mom says. “If ever there was an appropriate time to drop an f-bomb, this is it. Speaking of which—holy fuck—I’m gonna be a grandma.”

  Everyone laughs.

  “Welcome to our fucking awesome family, Josh,” Kat’s mom continues. “I for one already love you.”

  My heart explodes in my chest. “Thank you, Lou.”

  “So what do you say we dig into that pie you brought, huh?” Louise says. “I feel the sudden need to eat a very big slice.”

  One Hundred Eight

  Josh

  I peek through a crack in the door and peer out into the courtyard, scanning the faces of Jonas and Sarah’s wedding guests, all of them seated and patiently awaiting the start of the ceremony. Obviously, ninety percent of the attendees at this wedding are Sarah’s friends and family—which doesn’t surprise me. Jonas and I have no family other than Uncle William—and if Jonas has made any close friends over the years, he’s certainly never introduced them to me.

  “Wow, those flowers are incredible,” I say, surveying the virtual explosion of flowers in the courtyard. “I’ve never seen anything like that. It’s like a gingerbread house made of flowers.”

  “Sarah saw this ‘wall of flowers’ in some celebrity magazine and lost her shit,” Jonas says behind my back. “So I told her to do whatever her little heart desired.”

  “It’s amazing. Hey, are those the violinist and cellist from my house the other night?” I ask, spotting the two women playing a symphonic piece, along with a third woman playing a large harp.

  “Yeah,” Jonas says from behind me. “Sarah had originally planned to have just the harpist, but when she heard the violin and cello at your house during our ‘romantic dinner for two’—thanks again for that, by the way—she flipped out and hired them for the ceremony on the spot.”

  I chuckle. “Those ladies ought to give me a commission for all the work I’ve indirectly sent their way. Kat’s brother Dax hired them to play on his album, too.”

  “Yeah, I know. I met Dax, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

  “Have you heard his album?” Jonas asks.

  “Just the first three songs. They’re really good—I sent them to Reed and he absolutely loved them. He’s probably gonna sign Dax’s band. He just wants to watch them play live first.”

  “Awesome,” Jonas says. “I’d love to hear them.”

  “Stay still, Jonas,” Uncle William says from behind me. “Joshua says I have to retie the knot to make it perfect. Stand still, Jonas, for the love of God.”

  “Sorry. I’m bouncing off the walls.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Uncle William says, chuckling.

  I continue scanning the faces of the guests, looking for anyone I recognize.

  Well, I see Henn and Hannah in the third row, sitting with their hands clasped tightly together. And there’s Uncle William’s longtime housekeeper (and longtime lover?), Katya, sitting next to my uncle’s vacant chair. I see a handful of familiar faces from Faraday & Sons—the CFO, Jonas’ assistant and her husband, a few people on Jonas’ team. There’s Sarah’s mom Gloria in the front row wearing a corsage and Jonas’ friend Georgia with her boyfriend and son Trey, all of whom I met last night at the rehearsal dinner.

  My eyes lock onto T-Rod in the back, standing in front of a mammoth wall of white flowers, talking to a woman in black holding a clipboard. I smile to myself. Six years ago, when I decided to dive headfirst into launching the L.A. branch of Faraday & Sons, I hired Theresa through a temp agency, thinking I was gonna need someone a few hours a week (at most) to organize my life and possibly run a few errands for me. I never in a million years thought, six years later, Theresa would be my faithful ‘woman behind the curtain’ for the Wise and Powerful Oz.

  Holy shit. There’s Miss Westbrook—Mrs. Santorini now—sitting with three kids, including a teenage boy who must be her son Jonas, the one she named after my brother. I smile to myself. Sarah Fucking Cruz is a force to be reckoned with, I swear to God. Apparently, she’s hell-bent on “healing” my brother’s tattered soul, through any means (and people) necessary, God love her.

  My eyes continue drifting over the faces in the crowd and finally lock onto Kat’s parents, seated in the farthest row. Kat’s mom is in the process of whispering something into her husband’s ear and he’s smiling and nodding. Man, they’re a handsome couple. Especially Kat’s mom. Damn. She’s a knockout, even at fifty-something, especially in that sparkling gold dress. Holy shit, it blows me away how much Kat looks like her mother. It’s like Louise is a crystal ball, showing me exactly what her hot twenty-something-year-old daughter’s gonna look like thirty years from now: a hot fifty-something-year-old.

  As I’m spying on her, Louise rests her cheek lovingly on her husband’s shoulder—the exact same move Kat always uses on me—and all of a sudden, I feel the world warp and buckle around me, like I’ve slipped through a gap in the space-time-continuum. Suddenly, I’m no longer looking at Kat’s parents awaiting Jonas and Sarah’s wedding, I’m seeing Kat and me, awaiting our son or daughter’s wedding, thirty years from now.

  Whoa.

  I quickly shut the door, my heart pounding in my ears, and turn around.

  Uncle William’s just finishing tying the knot on Jonas’ tie.

  “There we go,” he says, patting Jonas’ chest. He grabs Jonas’ shoulders and turns him toward me like he’s a preschooler on picture day. “I used a Windsor knot the second time. Does that meet with your approval, Master Joshua?”

  I survey my brother from head to toe. “Yeah, he looks absolutely perfect now. Good job.”

  Jonas beams a huge smile at me. “I’m right here—you can compliment me directly.”

  “You look absolutely perfect, Jonas.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m gonna take my seat now,” Uncle William says. He hugs Jonas and pats him on the cheek. “I’m happy for you, son. Sarah’s a great girl. Be good to her.”

  “I will. Always.”

  “I know you will. You’re an exceptionally kind-hearted person, Jonas. Always have been.” He pats the side of Jonas’ neck. “She’s a lucky girl.”

  “I’m the lucky one.”

  “Be happy, Jonas,” Uncle William says softly, emotion warping his voice. “That’s all I’ve ever wished for you, son.” His voice cracks.

  Jonas swallows hard. “I will be. I already am.”

  The emotion on Uncle William’s face is making my eyes water—I’ve never seen him look quite like this before.

  Uncle William turns to go.

  “Hey, Uncle William?�
� Jonas says.

  Uncle William stops and turns around.

  “Thank you for letting Sarah wear Sadie’s necklace. It means a lot to me that you did that for her. Sarah was absolutely thrilled. Thank you.”

  “Oh, I’m glad you mentioned that,” Uncle William says. “When I gave the necklace to Sarah last night, she seemed so excited to make it both her ‘something old’ and her ‘something borrowed’ for the big day, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was giving her the necklace and not just loaning it to her.” He chuckles. “I figured I’d tell her after the ceremony. So when I drink way too much Scotch at the reception and forget to tell Sarah the necklace is hers, will you make sure to tell her for me?”

  “Oh, wow,” Jonas says. He looks at me, astonished—but since I’ve never seen the necklace they’re talking about, I can’t return his expression. “Sarah’s gonna be shocked as hell. Are you sure? She’s not expecting that at all.”

  “Of course. It’s my wedding gift to Sarah—my way of welcoming her into our family.” He looks wistful. “Sarah reminds me of Sadie, you know. Same spirit. Sadie would have been thrilled to know her favorite necklace will be worn again, especially by someone as beautiful as Sarah, rather than sitting and collecting dust in a vault for another thirty years.”

  “Thank you so much. Sarah will be thrilled. I’ll be sure to tell her.”

  Uncle William grins. “Now go get married to your dream girl, son.”

  “Yes, sir. With pleasure.”

  When Uncle William is gone, I take a good, long look at my brother from head to toe and marvel at the joy wafting off him. I’ve never seen him look so damned happy before. Hell, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Jonas look happy at all before Sarah came along. Maybe every smile and laugh before Sarah was nothing but a dress rehearsal, a dry run preparing him for true happiness.

  “You ready?” I ask my brother.

  “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life,” Jonas replies.

  I hug Jonas and kiss his cheek, and as I do, my eyes tear up. I pull back from our embrace, wiping my eyes, intending to turn my back on him, but Jonas grabs my neck and forces me to stay put.