Cook Brothers: The Whole Flipping Family

by BJ Harvey

  I return my attention to his wife. “Okay, Ronnie. Impart your female wisdom on me. God knows the advice from the men in my life isn’t helping.”

  “Are you doing this to hurt Faith?” she asks, going straight for the jugular.

  “No.” I give my answer with no hesitation.

  “Are you prepared to do this knowing it may hurt her?”

  This time, I do pause because as much as her leaving hurt me, I would never wish Faith any harm. I swallow hard, hoping to ease the sudden tightness in my chest. Irrespective of any romantic relationship we had, or may ever have, I could never forget the fact she is—or was—my best friend. “I would end it before that happened.”

  She nods, approval shining back at me. “Last question. If you had a choice to take back asking Faith to marry you—”

  “Ah… I wouldn’t exactly say I asked…”

  Ronnie’s eyes widen as her head jerks back.

  “Say what?” Jax says, reentering the room and setting down shot glasses and a bottle of Jack onto my wooden coffee table.

  “I can’t remember my exact words, but I think it was a case of her not getting the hint that I didn’t really want to talk about things then and there. She said she missed me and how she’d come back to work on things; I pretty much told her to prove it by marrying me.” I shrug, happy with my quick summary of events.

  “Wow,” Ronnie says, her lips curving up on one side. “You and my husband really are twins.” Jax and I snort at that. Jamie soon joins us when we start laughing.

  “What?” she asks, looking between the three of us.

  “Beautiful, we’re identical. It kind of gives away the whole ‘twin’ thing,” Jax says.

  Ronnie winks at me before turning in Jax’s arms and looking up at him. “But you said you weren’t identical in every way.” Oh, she’s good.

  “Oh, is he spinning the line that he’s got a bigger dick than me? ’Cause turn around, Ronnie. I’m more than prepared to prove that particular myth wrong,” I say, hands going to my belt.

  “That’s not required, brother,” Jax growls, narrowing his eyes.

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “Just offering.”

  “Does that mean I should offer to lock you down so you can’t marry Faith Baker today?” Jamie asks, standing and moving closer toward me. Well played.

  “No, it means Jax should pour me a couple of shots before driving us downtown so I can get to City Hall by two p.m.”

  “You sure?” Jax asks, all humor now gone. I know everyone in this room will always have my back, so if this goes pear-shaped, I’ll have my family to make sure I recover the best I can.

  “Yep. It’s just something I have to do. I have to know, once and for all.”

  “Do you love her?” That’s Jamie, and it’s the first time anyone in my family has asked me that.

  I meet his eyes and make sure he can see just how serious I am when I give him an honest answer. “Always have, always will, and if I don’t do this, I’ll never know, and will never be able to move on.”

  When he claps me on the shoulder and gives me a hearty squeeze, I know I’ve got his support.

  “Now, where are those shots, Jax? If anyone needs Dutch courage right now, it’s me.”

  My twin nods and sets the shot glasses on the glass coffee table, and fills them to the top, handing one to Jamie and then one to me, before lifting another glass for himself. I quirk a brow to Ronnie who grins.

  “Someone has to drive you guys, and this is a brotherly tradition, I’m told,” she replies. “Considering only two of you are married, and that’s only been in the last month, I’m not sure how that warrants a tradition, but oh well.”

  “Anything is a tradition if it’s done more than twice, right?” I say with a smirk.

  “Does that include blow—” Ronnie asks with a giggle.

  “Definitely,” Jamie, Jax and I all answer in unison before looking between each other and bursting out laughing.

  The front door swings open, and Ez and Cohen walk in like they own the place, Ez coming straight to my side and wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Are we too late?”

  “Nope, you’re right on time,” Jax says, pouring another glass and smirking up at Cohen. “None for you, little brother.” Co flips him the bird.

  Turning my head, I meet Ezra’s gaze. Part of me wants to cover my junk, and part of me is also wondering whether he’s gonna tell me Faith has changed her mind. As if reading my thoughts, he shakes his head ever so slightly, and I breathe out. Which earns a questioning brow lift from Cohen. He closes the distance between us and gives me a quick hug. “I’m with you. I was being a dick and projecting.”

  I go still, wanting to ask what that means, but Jax clears his throat and the moment is gone.

  When all us guys have glasses in our hands, Jax lifts his in the air. “To Bryant. May your balls remain intact and may you and Faith find the answers you’re looking for, whatever they may be.”

  “And we won’t talk about the sex part of the marriage, because that’s my sister and I’d have to punch you,” Ez adds with a bullshit glare.

  “Deal,” I say with a grin that actually feels genuine.

  “To wedded bliss,” Jamie adds, all five of us touching glasses before knocking the shot back and wincing as the Jack burns on its way down.

  “Should we go then?” Ronnie asks, looking at the time on her phone.

  I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale, finding it a little easier to focus on what is about to happen. I’m going to marry Faith Baker. My first love, my only love, and soon, my wife—that’s if she doesn’t change her mind and catch the first plane out of the country.

  What if she changes her mind and stands me up as a big fuck you?

  I guess there’s only one way to find out. But first…

  “One for the road?”

  4

  Bryant

  I get a combination of cautious and concerned looks on the drive and then walk to City Hall. When we take the escalator down to the marriage court, my heart races, my chest feeling like it’s about to explode. After rubbing my clammy palms against my pants, I force my hands into my pockets to stop myself from fidgeting—or running for the hills. Maybe I’m the one who should be jumping on the next flight out of here.

  An arm wraps around my waist, knocking me from my thoughts. I look down to find Ronnie’s understanding eyes shining back at me. She grabs hold of my hand, the contact centering me, which is precisely what I needed to get out of my head.

  When we turn the corner to walk through the open door of the waiting room, she stops me so we’re the last of the group left in the corridor.

  “If you’re not one hundred percent about this, then you need to leave right now because this is your very last chance before you see her,” she says softly.

  I narrow my gaze. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because I’m a girl, and I know how it feels to see the person you love standing there waiting to marry you.”

  “You ran to him. Faith isn’t gonna run to me.”

  “Didn’t she do that already by flying halfway across the world and telling you she did it for you?” she counters, arching a perfectly shaped brow.

  I tilt my head. “Do you bust my brother’s balls as much as you do mine?”

  She giggles. “Yeah, except once I’ve finished with his, I play with them.”

  A smirk threatens to make an appearance, stopping in its tracks when she scowls at me, finger pointed right in my face. “Don’t even say it.”

  “Okay. I’ll just think it.”

  She dips her chin, but I don’t miss the small smile on her lips. “Bet you’re not thinking about running now, are you?”

  Damn, she’s right.

  “Thanks, Ronnie,” I say, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Anytime, Bry,” she whispers. “Now, let’s walk in so she can blow your mind.”

  “Well it’s not like she�
�s gonna be blowing my—”

  All rational thought escapes my brain the very second I enter the room and lay eyes on my bride-to-be wearing an elegant knee-length jade dress with matching lace cut-outs across the chest and two triangle sections stretching from her ribs to her hips on either side. Bright red heels match her fuck-me red lipstick, and to finish off the ‘Bryant, you’re totally fucked now’ look, her hair is pinned up in a sea of soft brown curls.

  I literally stumble as I try to act like she hasn’t just knocked me on my ass. The first time she did that, I was eight and didn’t know that girls could make you feel funny inside. I wish that was the only feeling I had right now.

  Forcing myself to tear my eyes away from Faith, I catch all of the guys and their knowing smirks. I turn my back on them and walk over toward my future wife and Delilah, who is shooting daggers at me.

  “Delilah, nice to see you,” I say, stepping in to kiss her cheek.

  “You hurt her, I’ll castrate you,” she hisses in my ear. I pull back, schooling my expression, and nodding my agreement. “Good.” She turns to her sister. “I’ll just go over there and leave you to talk.”

  When it’s just the two of us left, I meet her eyes, unable to not look at her. Is this some crazy wedding voodoo? Is there something biologically inherent in males so when they see their mate—or supposed mate—they feel this overwhelming need to claim them then and there?

  Or maybe it’s my brain telling me that this is the best idea I’ve ever had.

  “Are you okay?” Faith asks. The first words she says to me aren’t whether I’m sure I want to do this, or whether we should just forget about it and go get a beer instead. Then again, Faith never used to put herself first; it was always everyone else. This is the girl who literally gave her jacket to a homeless woman on the streets of Sacramento and then reluctantly accepted mine when I put my foot down.

  Except for that one day when she didn’t think of anyone except herself.

  I shake my head because if I start thinking about the past, I’ll never get my head back in the present and right now, I want to be here. Worst-case scenario, this will be the only lasting good memory I’ll have of my time with Faith. Even if we end up hating each other when all is said and done, I’ll have this afternoon, this time when—even just for a moment.

  What did she ask me again? Oh, that’s right. If I was okay?

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that, babycakes?”

  Her eyes soften. Her sharp intake of breath is the slap in the face I needed. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear you call me that again.”

  “Maybe I’m getting nostalgic in my old age,” I quip.

  “Since we’re the same age, I guess that means I’m old too,” she says, a gleam of amusement brightening her features.

  “That’s not something a husband should say to his wife though, is it?” I tease.

  “Well, you’ve got about ten minutes before we’re due to go in so I’ll give you a pass this time.”

  I nod a silent thanks, unable to stop my lips from twitching. She looks over my shoulder and stills, causing mine to follow the path of her gaze and spotting our party of six witnesses gawking at us with their mouths open.

  “Why do I suddenly feel like we’re the latest sideshow attraction?” she murmurs as if for my ears only.

  “Oh no, Faith, we’re the headline act.” I turn to face her, blocking her from our family members so we’re as close to being alone as we’re gonna get.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asks.

  “Are you?”

  “Well, it would be extreme lengths to go to.”

  “You think?” I ask, my brows nearly hitting my hairline.

  “I want to prove I meant what I said, Bry. Whether that be by tying myself to you today, or any other hoop you need me to jump through. I’ll do it. Jamie’s wedding gave me the push, but it’s a plan that has been in the works for a long time. I was just talking myself into booking the ticket, quitting my job, and coming home to win you back.”

  Her words plug the hole in the last sliver of doubt I had left. “Well, if you’re willing to go this far, and look that good, then the least I can do is go through with this.”

  “Such a sacrifice,” she says, her tone unreadable, but she doesn’t sound happy.

  “Look, I didn’t mean—”

  “Bryant Cook and Faith Baker?” the clerk calls out, breaking the moment completely.

  No, you did that when you put your foot in your mouth, dumbass.

  “That’s us,” Faith says, plastering a fake smile on her lips before walking towards the courtroom door.

  I turn to watch her go, earning a scowl from Delilah, who quickly follows her sister, a frown from Ez, who follows behind her, and a combination of dumbfounded, worried, and concerned looks facing me from my own support crew of Jamie, Jax, Cohen, and Ronnie.

  “Let me guess—you said something idiotic,” Cohen says dryly.

  Jax grins. “Or dumb.”

  “Dumb and idiotic?” Jamie says.

  Thankfully, Ronnie has my back. “Or without thinking first?”

  “How about we say ‘all of the above’ and get in there, so it’s not the groom walking down the aisle to the bride for the first time in the history of our family,” I sigh.

  Ronnie grimaces. “Ah… sorry to say, but she’s already in there.”

  Dammit.

  “And there is no aisle,” Cohen deadpans.

  “How would you know?” I ask, moving toward the door to find my soon-to-be wife.

  Cohen’s at my side. “We had to attend a heart attack call-out last year. Turns out the groom decided to pre-game his Viagra and it wasn’t a heart attack, but a panic attack caused by him thinking his dick would explode.”

  I snort, covering my mouth to try and control myself as we walk in, my eyes meeting Faith’s confused ones.

  “I got your mind off of your fuck up. My job is done,” Co says, moving from my side, Jax taking his place.

  I look around the surprisingly small room, taking it all in. The one and only time I’ll ever be in marriage court.

  “Sorry I’m late,” April says, near running into the room. “I had a quick—but important—stop to make.”

  I look at the small bouquet of white roses in her hand and smile at her, quickly closing the distance between us and taking the flowers from her. “Thank you, April.”

  She leans up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Every woman needs flowers on her wedding day, Bry. Ronnie sent me a text when she realized Faith didn’t have a bouquet.

  “Maybe this will make up for my slip of the tongue from before,” I say under my breath.

  “For the record, I’m betting on you,” she says before winking at me and finding a home at Jamie’s side.

  “Can the bride and groom please step forward,” an older man wearing a black gown says.

  After a hug and a kiss from Delilah, Faith meets my eyes and walks toward me. I close the distance, feeling compelled to make this the best it could possibly be.

  “These are for you,” I say, placing the bouquet in her outstretched hand. When she looks back up at me, her eyes are glassy. That meant something to her. Thanks to my sister-in-laws.

  I hold out my bent elbow, feeling her arm slide against mine. I can’t control the sense of rightness that comes over me.

  We take the last few steps toward the judge, stopping just in front of him.

  “Are you ready to begin?” he asks.

  I nod, unable to talk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Faith do the same.

  “All right then, let’s begin. We are gathered here today to witness the joining together of this man and this woman in marriage.”

  We face each other when we say our vows, Delilah holding the flowers after Ronnie spoke up and insisted we hold both hands. Out of the entire fifteen-minute civil ceremony, the moment we pledge our lives to each other is one I know will be imprinted on my brain until the day I die

  He
aring the words “I do” from Faith Baker’s soft lips, her eyes wet with unshed tears, the conviction with which she said them—it hurts my heart in the best possible way, affecting me far more than I could ever have anticipated.

  “Bryant, do you take Faith to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do you part?” the judge asks.

  I give her hands a gentle squeeze, so slight and small, the others may not have seen it—which makes it all the better—because I know she felt it. A single tear trails down her cheek, her lips parting as I pledge my life before a Cook County appointed judge. “I do.”

  “We will now exchange the rings.”

  I reach into my pocket and hand over a platinum band for Faith to give me, before palming the ring I have for her.

  “Faith,” the man says, nodding her way. “Please take his hand and repeat after me.”

  Before I can overthink it any further, the judge calls me back into the moment. “Pay attention, son. This is the good part,” he says with a very slight smirk.

  “With this ring, I thee wed,” Faith says, my sole focus on watching those six words formed by her soft ruby-red lips. I feel the cool slide of my wedding band being positioned in its new home at the base of my finger.

  “And Bryant, repeat after me…” The judge’s words fade into nothing as I hold the princess-cut solitaire diamond ring out, gently cradling Faith’s hand in mine but watching her reaction closely as she locks eyes on the very same ring I proposed to her with twelve years ago. Her tear-filled gaze snaps up, her eyes wide, her mouth dropped open as I put my silent promise where it always should’ve been. We stare at each other, everyone else in the room fading away, so it feels like we’re the only ones here. Now I wish we were. I’m hit with the sense of rightness I needed. This is right. Does it really matter how the hell we do it?

  Before we know it, we’re pronounced husband and wife. Then I remember the five words I managed to completely forget about.

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  Well, shit.

  Then five more words ring around my head, my dad’s favorite saying to us kids when we were growing up. Go big or go home.