by Lauren Rowe
“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.
“Wonderful. We’ll start with a light appetizer and drink pairing when she arrives.”
“Oh, I should have told you: my girlfriend’s pregnant,” I say. “No alcohol this evening for either of us.”
“Oh. No problem. Thanks for letting me know. Congratulations.”
The chef and waiter head back into the kitchen.
“Well, have fun,” Jonas says, slapping my back. “I’d better get home. Sarah just sent me a text saying she misses me—always a good sign.” He snickers.
“Hang on a second,” I say. “We’re not done.” I motion to a loveseat (rented for me by Theresa), and we sit.
“What?” Jonas asks, obviously anxious to leave.
“I just... ” I exhale. “I need you to understand something.”
Jonas waits.
“I have no desire to get married, not even to Kat. From here on out, just don’t give me a hard time about it, okay? It is what it is. I know Kat’s pregnant and I know we were raised to—”
“I don’t think you should ask Kat to marry you,” Jonas says, interrupting me. He levels me with his startling blue eyes.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“But you’re getting married.”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I don’t think you should marry Kat.”
“I’m confused.”
Jonas sighs. “Josh, I’m marrying Sarah in twenty-one days because I can’t wait a day longer than necessary to call her my wife. I’m marrying Sarah because I can’t wait to declare my undying love for her in front of God and everyone we know. I’m marrying Sarah because she’s the air I breathe, the embodiment of my hopes and dreams and my every drop of happiness. Because I want Sarah to be mine, all mine, in every possible way ’til the end of time. Because I never want another man to touch her, ever again—because even the thought of another man touching her makes me homicidal. Because I want to be there for her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part—and I want to promise that to her in the most sacred way possible. I’m marrying Sarah because I don’t want there to be any doubt in her mind how I feel about her, not even for a moment, for the rest of her life.” He scowls at me. “And not because I think I need a motherfucking piece of paper to tell me my love is
real or official.”
I swallow hard, rendered completely speechless.
“So if you don’t feel exactly the same way about Kat,” Jonas continues, his eyes burning like hot coals, “if you don’t want to make that woman your wife for all the reasons I just described, then she didn’t just do you a favor by turning down your proposal—she did herself a favor, too.”
Chapter 17
Josh
My heart is pulsing in my ears. I open my mouth and close it, but Jonas has stunned me into complete silence.
The doorbell rings and, instantly, the violin and cello begin playing.
“Oh shit,” I say. “You’re not supposed to be here, Jonas. You gotta get the fuck out.”
“I’ll go in the kitchen and slip out when you and Kat head into the dining room.”
“No. That’s stupid.” I sigh. “Why don’t you just say hi to her—you can congratulate her on the kumquat.”
We move to the front door together, my head spinning. I’ve never been kicked so fucking hard in the teeth by Jonas in my entire life. What the fuck just happened? I feel like I’m walking through molasses with cement blocks strapped to my ankles as I trudge to the front door. I smile at the violinist and cellist as I pass them on my way to the front door, but my smile is a façade. I seriously can’t breathe.
When I reach the door with Jonas a few feet behind me, I take a deep breath, gathering myself. I’m gonna give Kat an amazing gift tonight—a truly once-in-a-lifetime gift—and then I’m gonna tell her I love her. And that’s a pretty big fucking deal. I just need to shake off what Jonas said—the man’s clearly pussy-whipped beyond anything I could have fathomed. I just need to shake it off.
I exhale and open my front door, my heart pounding at the thought of seeing Kat after this past long, torturous week apart. This is gonna be an epic night for both of us. A new beginning. But when I swing open the door, it’s not Kat—it’s the male version of her, holding a motorcycle helmet in his arm and dressed in a black leather jacket, a pair of dark jeans, and an Rx Bandits T-shirt.
The male version of Kat puts out his hand. “Sir J.W. Faraday, I presume?”
I shake the guy’s hand.
“Hey, Josh.” The guy smiles. “I’m Dax, Kat’s brother?”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Yeah. Hey, Dax. Kat’s told me a lot about you. Glad to finally meet you.”
Dax peeks behind me into the house. “Wow. Violin and cello. Oh, hey, do you mind if I get the musicians’ contact info? I’m recording an album next week and I could totally use violin and cello on a couple of my songs.”
“Uh. Sure. Yeah. Come on in.” I open the door wide and Dax bounds into my house like he owns the place. “So where’s Kat?” I ask.
“Oh.” Dax turns around. “Sorry. I got so excited about the violin and cello, I forgot why I’m here. Kat asked me to give you this.”
He hands me a sealed envelope and my heart instantly drops into my toes.
Shit.
Kat’s not coming.
I look at Jonas and he looks as crestfallen as I feel.
Kat sent her baby brother to hand me a “Dear John” letter? Is she really that heartless? Yes, she is, unfortunately, and I’ve always known it—deep down inside, I’ve always known this day was coming. Maybe that’s why I’ve been holding back all this time with Kat—because I knew deep down in my bones this thing with her was just too good to last—that she’d eventually slip past my borders with a bomb strapped to her chest and blow me to fucking bits.
“Uh. This is my brother, Jonas,” I manage to say, my cheeks hot.
“Hey, Dax,” Jonas says, shaking Dax’s hand. “Nice T-shirt. Rx Bandits is my all-time favorite band.”
“Hey, mine, too. Ever seen ’em live?”
“Yup. Lots of times. Best live band ever.”
I’m literally shaking. I feel like crying like a pussy-ass little bitch, but I swallow it down.
“So it’s okay if I talk to your musicians real quick?” Dax says.
“Go ahead,” I say, my throat tight. I call over to the violinist and cellist. “Hey, ladies, you can stop playing. It’s not my girlfriend.”
The music ceases.
“Well, are you gonna open the card?” Jonas asks.
I swallow hard. Part of me doesn’t want to open the envelope. If Kat’s decided she’s done with me—even though she’s carrying my goddamned kid—I’m not gonna bounce back any time soon. In fact, I’m gonna be in a world of fucking hurt for the rest of my fucking life, to be honest. Visions of Kat dragging my kid to baseball games with her new boyfriend flood me—images of Kat fucking another man while my baby’s fast asleep in a crib in the other room. Fuck me. Based on the way I handled the whole thing with Emma, I can’t even begin to imagine the human pile of rubble I’m about to become after I read this note. I absent-mindedly touch my left bicep and instantly feel an avalanche of anticipatory regret. Oh my God. I can’t believe I got a fucking girlfriend tattoo mere days before my girlfriend decided to break up with me. Oh, irony of ironies—please, God, no. I shake my head at my own stupidity. Kat warned me, didn’t she? “Johnny Depp had to change ‘Winona Forever’ to ‘Wino Forever,’” Kat told me way back when. “Don’t do it.” But did I listen to her? Fuck no—of course, not. Dumbshit.
“Josh,” Jonas says emphatically, drawing me out of my rambling thoughts. “Open the fucking envelope.”
I stare at Jonas dumbly.
“Open it, for fuck’s sake.”
I open the envelope slowly and pull out the card—and as I do, something falls onto the floor.
Jonas bends down and picks it up—and when he straightens up, glory be, he’s holding a poker chip in his palm, his eyebrow raised.
Relief and excitement flood me. Thank you, God. Kat’s not a heartless terrorist—well, yeah, she is—but she’s also the woman of my dreams!
I hastily open the notecard and read, my heart racing, my dick tingling.
“Hello there, my darling, beloved Playboy,” the card reads. “The doctor said my sex drive might increase dramatically due to pregnancy hormones. Well, guess what? She was right! I’m excited to see your new house one of these days, I really am, and I sure hope you didn’t go to too much trouble with dinner tonight—because there’s been a change of plans, baby! Tonight, my beloved, sexy, beautiful Playboy, we’re going to fulfill one of your all-time sick-fuck fantasies. That’s right, honey—I hope you like windows—wink!—because you’re about to fuck one any which way you please.” Kat writes the name and address of a nearby five-star luxury hotel plus a room number. “Hurry up, my gorgeous, well-hung Playboy. Your window’s waiting for you—along with her selected window dressing (another wink!). I guarantee you’re gonna love how dripping wet this window is you when you get here, baby. XOXO Kat.”
I look up from the note, my eyes bugging out. I’m rock hard. Oh my God.
“Good news?” Jonas asks.
“Call Sarah,” I say abruptly. I grab my suit jacket off the back of the loveseat. “A romantic dinner for two just fell into your lap, bro. Enjoy.” I call out to Dax over by the musicians. “Hey, Dax. Nice to meet you, man. I’ve gotta go—I’ve got an unexpected dinner date with your diabolical sister. Hopefully, we’ll have a chance to talk another time.”
Dax waves. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll have a chance to talk one of these days, Josh—maybe at the hospital when Kat gives birth to your baby?”
I stop dead in my tracks and turn around to face him, my cheeks instantly burning.
Dax shoots me an evil smile that reminds me so much of his heinous sister, it freaks me the fuck out. “Don’t worry, Sir Faraday,” Dax says, still smiling. “Kat didn’t tell anyone else in our family about your little ‘oops’—it’s just impossible for her to keep a secret from me.” He winks.
I swallow hard, words failing me.
“I won’t say a word to anyone,” Dax adds. “I promise.”
“Thanks,” I manage to say.
�
�I’m actually gonna enjoy watching you guys tell the fam.” He chuckles. “Ought to be extremely entertaining.”
My stomach flips over. “Yeah. Should be a real blast.”
“So, yeah, looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future, huh? Assuming, of course, you’re planning to do more than write checks and attend your kid’s birthday parties once a year?”
“Hey, Dax,” Jonas says stepping forward, his muscles visibly tensing. “Josh would never—”
“I got this, bro,” I say, putting up my hand. “Dax, I’m gonna do a whole lot more for this kid than write checks and attend birthday parties. I’m gonna be this baby’s father in every sense of the word—every single day for the rest of my life. You can count on it.”
Dax’s face softens. “Good.” He shifts his weight. “Sorry. Just looking out for my sister.”
“Understandably,” I say. “I’d do the same.”
Dax beams me a genuine smile this time, without even a hint of evil. “You better go, man,” he says. “My sister’s not exactly patient.”
I chuckle. “That’s an understatement. She’s hell on wheels, bro. But I wouldn’t have her any other way.”
Dax nods, seemingly pleased with that answer. “You better go.”
I hug my brother goodbye—nice to know he was ready to beat the shit out of Kat’s little brother for me, if necessary—gotta love Jonas—and stride into the kitchen.
“Change of plans,” I say to the chef. “My brother and his fiancée will be dining tonight—so let the booze flow, after all.”
The chef says something but I don’t catch it. I’m too busy grabbing the keys to my rented Ferrari off the counter and racing out of the kitchen.
“Wait, Josh,” Jonas yells at my back, just before I make my escape through the front door of my house. “Hang on just a sec.”
I stop, though it pains me to do it.
I turn around to face my brother. “Jonas, please, I gotta go. Kat’s waiting, man.”
