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

by Lauren Rowe

  “Josh,” Jonas says softly, his palm on my neck, his forehead against mine. “You’re the best brother a guy could ask for. I thank God for you every single day.”

  My body twitches with the emotion I’m stuffing down. What the fuck is happening to me? I’m a fucking wreck. I swallow hard, successfully forcing down the huge lump in my throat.

  A woman with a clipboard pokes her head into the room and saves me from myself. “You gentlemen ready?” she asks.

  Jonas nods. “Just give us a minute.”

  “Okay. Take your positions in the courtyard whenever you’re ready. We’ll cue off you.”

  “Thanks.” Jonas takes a deep breath and smiles at me. “You need a minute?”

  I nod.

  “Take your time, Josh,” my brother says, grinning. “They can’t start this shindig without me.”

  I look up at the ceiling for a moment, and once I’ve got complete control of my emotions again, I fix my eyes on Jonas’ face. “Jonas, I’d be lost without you,” I say quietly. I rest my palm on his broad shoulder and take a big gulp of air. “Seeing you happy is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I swallow hard. “I love you.”

  Jonas’ lip trembles and his face contorts like he’s trying to keep himself from crying. But it’s no use. His eyes fill with water. “Fuck, Josh,” Jonas says, sounding pissed. He wipes his eyes. “What are you trying to do to me, motherfucker?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I was fully prepared to cry like a baby at the sight of Sarah walking down the aisle—that’s to be expected—but I wasn’t prepared to cry with you, just standing here, talking about our fucking feelings, for Chrissakes. Come on, man, leave me a shred of dignity on my wedding day, would you?”

  “Sorry, bro. How’s this? ‘Hey, fucker. Congrats on bagging an awesome babe. Hope you have a fucking awesome life, you cocksucker—now fuck off.’”

  “That’s much better. Jesus. You scared me. For a minute there, I thought you were going soft on me.”

  “No chance of that,” I say. “I’m the emotionally stunted asshole of the two of us—you know that.”

  Jonas grins, his eyes sparkling.

  “Okay, motherfucker,” I say warmly. “Time to bag yourself a wife and me a sister.”

  “Fuck yeah, it is.”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  We smile at each other.

  “I’m so happy for you, Jonas,” I say softly.

  “I’m so happy for me, too,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. Enough yapping—it’s time for me to get married to the divine original form of woman-ness, the goddess and the muse, the magnificent Sarah Cruz.”

  One Hundred Nine

  Josh

  Jonas and I take our positions in front of the audience, standing to the left of the wedding officiant. The distinctive scent of gardenias—my mom’s favorite flower—blasts me all of a sudden. I turn around to glance at the spectacular wall of white flowers towering behind us—and, yes, although there are certainly roses and lilies and all sorts of other unidentifiable white flowers comprising the blooming wall, gardenias are by far the most prominent. Did Sarah do that on purpose? Did Jonas tell her how Dad always said Mom loved gardenias?

  I look at Jonas and he’s gazing anxiously toward the back of the room, his cheeks flushed, his breathing labored. I can almost hear his heart beating from here. Or maybe that’s my own heartbeat pounding forcefully in my ears. Why the fuck am I nervous? I’m not the one getting married.

  The music shifts to a Mozart-Beethoven-type thing, a pleasant piece of elegant music I’ve heard a thousand times at various black-tie events, and Kat appears at the back of the center aisle.

  My heart skips a beat at the sight of her. Holy fuck, she’s absolutely stunning.

  “I’m getting fat,” Kat said yesterday when she tried on her bridesmaid dress to make sure it still fit. “I should have had the tailor leave a little extra room through the midsection—my belly’s totally pooching out.”

  I laughed. There was literally no hint of a pooch in the dress—which makes sense because, despite our kumquat in the oven, there still hasn’t been even the slightest change in Kat’s figure since the day I first laid eyes on her in Jonas’ living room.

  “Babe,” I said to her yesterday. “You’re not showing at all. Like, literally, not at all.”

  “You’re blind, babe,” Kat said. “Look.” She pointed at the perfectly smooth midsection of her dress. “It’s like I’m hiding a volleyball under there.”

  “Do you have body dysmorphic disorder?” I asked.

  I grabbed her shoulders and moved her in front of the full-length mirror on the other side of our bedroom, and then I stood behind her, staring at both our reflections in the mirror, my palms resting on her smooth, bare shoulders.

  And that’s when I completely forgot whatever the fuck I was gonna say. I’d meant to drag Kat in front of the mirror to prove my point she’s not showing yet (and that she’s batshit crazy, too, which certainly isn’t news to me), but for some reason, staring at us together in the mirror, looking at her in that blue dress—even with her hair in a ponytail and her face completely bare of makeup—she took my breath away.

  So, of course, I proceeded to get my Party Girl with a Hyphen the fuck out of that dress and myself inside of her.

  But that was yesterday.

  Today, Kat in that same blue dress isn’t merely taking my breath away—she’s stopping my heart, too. The dress fits Kat the same way it did yesterday, of course—like a glove. But, today, she’s not just wearing her bridesmaid dress as she glides down the aisle, she’s strutting in it like a peacock—or, rather, I suppose, like a peahen graced with a peacock’s tail. (Thank you, Jonas.) And Kat has every reason to strut like she’s on a catwalk—lord almighty, does she ever. Her golden hair is falling around her shoulders in perfectly formed tendrils. Her skin peeking out of her sweetheart neckline is glowing. Her sky-high heels accentuate the glorious length of her lithe frame. And, oh my God, Kat’s gorgeous face, always radiant, always mesmerizing, is downright spectacular today. It’s the face that could launch a thousand ships, bring a grown man to his knees, make a man believe in God. And at this moment, lucky me, the blazing eyes lighting up that supernaturally beautiful face are trained on me.

  By the time Kat reaches the end of the aisle and takes her position to the officiant’s right, my heart’s bursting, my cock is tingling, and my brain is utterly scrambled. I beam a huge smile at Kat and she winks.

  The musical selection changes and everyone in the audience stands.

  For a moment, I can’t identify the song the musicians are playing. I know the melody, but it’s not a song normally played by a harp, cello, and violin, so I’m having a hard time placing it. Oh, wait. I’ve got it. It’s “Melt With You” by Modern English. Great song—cool arrangement. I glance at my brother. He’s about to burst into a trillion tiny molecules and scatter into the sky.

  I fix my gaze at the end of the aisle, my heart in my throat, and there she is—our beautiful bride for the occasion. Our George Clooney. Jonas’ handler. My brand new little sister. The great love of my brother’s life. Sarah Fucking Cruz.

  I glance at Kat to find her lower lip trembling and her eyes filled with tears. I look at my brother again and my breathing hitches at the unabashed demonstration of joy and love on his face. Oh my God, Jonas is clearly on the verge of crying.

  Keep it together, man, I think.

  But, really, I should be using all my keep-it-together mojo on myself. For fuck’s sake, I’m shaking like a leaf as I try to contain the emotion welling up inside me.

  I take a deep breath and successfully force it down.

  Sarah glides down the aisle slowly, her eyes fixed on Jonas, her smile as wide as I’ve ever seen it. Wow, she’s beautiful. Simply stunning. Glowing from the inside-out. And not only that, she’s a sexy little thing, isn’t she? Hot damn. I knew my brand new sister was a hot tamale and all, but Jesus Fucking Christ�
�she’s scorching hot. Are brides supposed to be this sexy? Good lord. Sarah’s strapless, white gown hugs every curve of her body leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, and then fans out mid-thigh, accentuating her hips to full effect. Holy hot damn, that’s quite a dress. I’m guessing Sarah picked it especially for Jonas—my brother always has been an ass-man.

  For a fleeting moment, my deranged brain actually forms the thought: I wonder what kind of wedding dress Kat would wear for me?

  My heart squeezes. What the fuck am I thinking? Have I gone insane?

  A loud sob lurches from the front of the audience, grabbing my attention. It’s Sarah’s mother, crying her eyes out at the sight of her beautiful daughter. I can’t help but smile. I only met Gloria last night and I already love her—it seems Jonas definitely lucked out there.

  I steal another look at Kat, thinking I’ll catch her giggling about Gloria’s meltdown, but, nope—Kat’s crying her eyes out every bit as much as Gloria, completely lost in her own Cinderella-fied world. Wow. Is Kat crying like that because she’s so happy for Sarah—or because she’s despairing she’ll never get to be the one wearing the white dress?

  I peel my eyes off Kat and gaze at Sarah Fucking Cruz walking toward us. She’s almost at the end of the aisle—and now that she’s closer, I can plainly see why Jonas shot me that look of astonishment about Uncle William’s gift. Holy shit, the necklace encircling Sarah’s elegant neck is fit for a queen. I mean, I’m no expert on diamonds, but that’s got to be half a million bucks worth of them, if not more.

  It makes no sense, and I know I should be ashamed of myself for thinking it, but for a fleeting moment, jealousy rises up inside me that Uncle William gave that thing to Sarah, and not to Kat. Kat deserves to have the crown jewels around her neck, too.

  Wait. What the fuck am I thinking? If it wouldn’t be a totally weird thing to do in front of all these people, I’d slap the shit out of myself right now for my rambling and bizarre thoughts.

  Sarah glides up to the officiant and Jonas lurches over to her. He grabs both her hands and leans in to whisper something into her ear. Sarah nods and smiles and Jonas kisses Sarah full on the mouth like they’ve just been pronounced husband and wife.

  “Not quite yet, Jonas,” the officiant says, and everyone laughs.

  Jonas laughs and pulls away, but then quickly leans in and pecks Sarah’s lips one more time, like he’s literally stealing a kiss.

  Everyone laughs again.

  “Oh, Jonas,” Sarah says, beaming at him.

  “You look beautiful,” Jonas says softly.

  “So do you, love. You’ve got happy eyes.”

  “Very happy eyes,” Jonas whispers. “I love you, Sarah.”

  “I love you, too, mi amor. Te amo.”

  “I can’t wait to call you my wife.”

  The officiant clears his throat comically. “Excuse me,” he says. “Would you two lovebirds mind if I cut in?”

  Everyone in the audience laughs, yet again.

  “Would you two like to get married, or . . ?”

  “Yes, please,” Sarah says.

  “As quickly as humanly possible,” Jonas adds.

  Again, the entire place collectively chuckles.

  I steal a look at Kat and she beams at me through her tears.

  “I’m thrilled to welcome everyone to this happy occasion—the marriage of Jonas Faraday and Sarah Cruz,” the officiant begins. “Both Jonas and Sarah have told me, separately, that they believe finding the other was their life’s sacred destiny, their soul’s mission—that the other is the missing piece to their soul’s sacred puzzle.”

  Normally, this kind of you-complete-me marriage-speak at weddings doesn’t affect me any more than a speech about global warming, but this time, for the first time ever, the officiant’s words are making my heart palpitate and the hair on my neck stand up.

  After a few opening remarks and a prayer, the officiant reads from Corinthians about the nature of love. “Love is kind and not jealous,” he says—and when he says the word “jealous,” I can’t help but shoot a pointed look at Kat. She flares her nostrils and narrows her eyes in reply, making me smile. I love it when Kat gives me her dragon-lady look.

  “Love doesn’t brag and is not arrogant,” the officiant continues solemnly—and at the word “arrogant,” Kat shoots me a snarky look that tells me in no uncertain terms the guy’s talking about me.

  I bite my lip and look away from Kat so I won’t burst out laughing at her expression.

  “But love rejoices with the truth,” the officiant concludes—a statement prompting Kat and me to simultaneously grin at each other.

  “Honesty-game,” Kat mouths to me, making me bite my lip. The woman just read my mind.

  “For love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things, but above all, love never fails.”

  The snarky smile dancing on my lips a moment ago vanishes. I look at Kat and the earnest expression of love and tenderness on her beautiful face is like a mirror reflecting my own feelings back to me.

  “And now, Jonas and Sarah have prepared vows they wish to say to each other under God, to be witnessed by you, their dearest family and friends,” the officiant says. He turns to Sarah. “Sarah?”

  Sarah grabs both of Jonas’ hands and looks deeply into his eyes. She smiles a truly lovely smile. “Jonas,” she says softly. “My sweet Jonas—mi amor. When I look into your beautiful, kind eyes, I see the man of my dreams—my destiny. With you, I’m completely safe for the first time in my life. With you, I know who I am and who I hope to become. With you, I’m finally me. Thank you for showing me what true love is, my sweet Jonas—for teaching me how to love with all my heart and soul. And, even more, for teaching me how to be loved. I love you, my beautiful, sweet, generous, devoted Jonas, and I promise to be your loving and loyal wife from this day forward, forever and ever, ’til the day I die and long after that when I hold you in my arms in heaven.”

  The courtyard is filled with nothing but muffled sniffles and sighs as everyone, especially Jonas, processes everything Sarah’s just said. After a beat, Jonas takes Sarah’s face into his palms and kisses her so fervently, the entire audience collectively sighs. And even though Jonas is obviously jumping the gun by planting that kiss on Sarah at this point in the proceedings, the officiant apparently doesn’t have the heart to stop him.

  As Jonas kisses Sarah, my eyes drift to Kat, my heart clanging wildly in my chest. What would Kat vow to me before God, in front of all our family and friends? And what would I say to her in return?

  Kat’s eyes are glistening as she returns my gaze. Oh my God. She’s looking at me the exact same way Sarah always looks at Jonas—like I’m the answer to her prayers. My skin prickles with goose bumps.

  A titter rustles through the crowd and I peel my eyes off Kat. Jonas and Sarah’s kiss is finished.

  “Thank you, Sarah,” the officiant says. “Jonas?”

  Jonas sheepishly takes a folded piece paper out of his pocket.

  I look at Kat again, my pulse raging in my ears. Oh my God. She’s still doing it—looking at me the way no one’s ever looked at me before.

  “Sarah,” Jonas begins, drawing my attention away from Kat. He looks down at his paper, his hands visibly shaking. “My Magnificent, Beautiful, Loving Sarah. My precious baby. My life. Plato says at the touch of love, every man becomes a poet. So I sat down and tried to write you an epic poem rivaling The Odyssey that would adequately convey how I feel about you, baby—but, unfortunately, when I tried to rhyme about my feelings for you, I sounded like Dr. Seuss.”

  Everyone chuckles.

  Wow, I think. Intentional humor by Jonas Patrick Faraday.

  “So I’ve decided to speak to you from the depths of my heart and soul, instead.” Jonas takes a deep breath. “Sarah Cruz, you’re the goddess and the muse. You’re The One, my love—the heart that sings my heart’s song back to me. I was lost and you led me to the light outside the
dark cave—to my destiny.” Jonas shifts his weight, his chest heaving. “Sarah, our love is the wonder of the wise, the joy of the good, the amazement of the gods. We’re the greatest love story ever told, baby—the divine original form of love. You’re the air I breathe—the blood coursing through my veins—my very heart and soul. And I vow from this moment forward to dedicate my life to your eternal happiness—to love and protect you always and forever, to the very best of my ability—to strive every day to lead you to the top of your personal mountaintop and rejoice with you when you get there.” Jonas takes a deep breath, puts his paper away, and cups Sarah’s face in his palms. “Sarah, my beloved, the greatest joy in this life will always be the honor and privilege of calling you my wife.”

  “Oh, Jonas,” Sarah breathes, clearly overcome with emotion. “That was beautiful.”

  Jonas kisses Sarah, yet again—I guess normal marriage-ceremony rules don’t apply to him?—and everyone watching laughs.

  Everyone, that is, except for me.

  I can’t laugh.

  I can’t move.

  Jesus Fucking Christ, I can’t breathe.

  I feel like I’ve suddenly been struck by a lightning bolt. My greatest joy in this life will always be the honor and privilege of calling you my wife. Oh my God. I’ve got goose bumps. My chest is tight. My heart is pounding in my ears. My greatest joy in this life will always be the honor and privilege of calling you my wife.

  I look at Kat, every hair on my body standing up. She’s staring at Jonas and Sarah, a look of unadulterated love on her face.

  Holy shit.

  Kat’s The One.

  Of course, she is. I don’t just love Kat. I don’t just want her. I want the honor and privilege of calling Kat my wife.

  She’s the air I breathe.

  The blood coursing through my veins.

  My very heart and soul.

  I can’t live without her. I need her like a plant needs water and sunshine and soil. Oh my God. I love Kat and I always will, forever and ever, ’til the day I die—and, holy fuck, Kat deserves to hear me say it in front of God and everyone we love. Yes. Kat deserves to be the one gliding down the center aisle wearing a white dress—not to mention a shit-ton of diamonds, too.