P.S. You’re Intolerable (The Harder They Fall)
P.S. You’re Intolerable: Chapter 15

I DID not have “live with my boss” on this year’s Bingo card. Then again, I didn’t have “have a baby” or “go bankrupt,” yet boom—here I was.

My life was full of surprises, even to me.

Seven weeks ago, I never could have imagined being here. I would have laughed at Elliot’s order to come with him. But those seven weeks had been a lifetime of worry, missing sleep, racing thoughts, and gnawing my fingernails to the quick.

I was tired. Tired of fighting a battle I couldn’t win. Tired of being the only one in my village. Just so fucking tired. I’d never known what it was like to feel exhausted to my bones until now. And it wasn’t just from missing sleep. This was a weariness that had started seeping in when Liam left and flooded through me when I understood he was never coming back. Not even for Joey.

The thing was, I’d known I shouldn’t have been living in that house under those conditions, but I’d been so heavy with dread I hadn’t been able to bring myself to take action. All it had taken was Elliot saying “no more” for me to pack my things up and leave.

I had no idea how long we’d be here. His offer might have only been for the night. But even a night in this luxurious home would be like a vacation. Maybe after some rest, my head would be clear enough to plan out my next step.

My foot was aching when I woke up from a much-needed nap, and my breasts were close to exploding. Luckily, Joey was ravenous and took care of one of the problems. Once she was fed and changed, we explored our room a little, but my foot wasn’t happy with me walking too much, so we hung out on my big bed.

“Don’t get used to this, Joey-Girl.” I booped her nose, and she startled, her limbs flailing madly. “It’s nice and all, but this is too fancy for us. We’ll just stay here for a little while until Mommy gets her act together.”

She hiccuped, and I melted. Everything could be shit, then this little girl would go and do something mundane and flip my mood around.

It was obvious to anyone I was in no position to be a mother, but I couldn’t regret having her. In less than two months, she’d become my world.

I would make our lives better.

I had to.

She deserved it.

Starvation brought me out of my bedroom that evening. Joey sucked all the nutrients out of me. There were times I got so hungry I thought my stomach was going to eat itself.

We ventured downstairs and wandered until I found the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet. Just Joey’s baby noises and the low hum of electronics keeping me company. Not even the sounds of the city made their way past the thick walls.

I was digging around in the fridge when the door to the garage opened and Elliot stepped in. Guilty of being caught in the act, I slammed the fridge shut and straightened to greet him.

At least I was wearing more clothing this time. I’d thrown a cardigan over my nursing tank and had on a pair of loose men’s sweatpants I’d rolled three times at the waist so they didn’t drag on the floor. I still wasn’t comfortable with Elliot seeing me outside of work attire, but at least this was better than my barely there clothing from this afternoon.

“Hi. Sorry to intrude, but I was starving—”

He shook his head as he strode into the room. “You’re welcome to anything you replace.” He raised a paper bag. “I brought Italian if that interests you more than the pickles and apples I have in my refrigerator.”

My chest was tight, but I pushed out a laugh. “I noticed you’ve basically only got scraps in there. But I guess you aren’t home a lot.”

“No, I’m not.” He set the bag down on the counter beside me and regarded the baby in my arms before sweeping his gaze over my face. “You slept.”

“For a little while, until this one was hungry.” I patted Joey’s tummy while she hung out in the crook of my arm, looking around at all the new sights. “How’s Daniel? Still leafy?”

His mouth hitched while he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. “He’d almost ceased trembling when I arrived.”

“Phew.” I swiped my forehead. “It sounds like you got there just in the nick of time.”

“He was shaking like a leaf again in seconds.” Elliot nodded to the bag. “I got you the spinach gnocchi from Donato’s. Do you still like that?”

I started to tell him it was my favorite, but my mouth couldn’t quite work. How could he possibly know what I ordered from Donato’s? The last time we’d had it in the office was months ago.

But this was Elliot. He probably took note of everything about the people surrounding him. How could he control his world if he didn’t know every single detail about his minions?

“Yes. Thank you. It’s my favorite,” I told him after replaceing my voice.

“Good.” He nodded decisively. “We’ll eat at the bar. The dining room is far too formal.”

“Okay. That sounds good.” I glanced around. How could one kitchen have so many cabinets? I didn’t know where to start. “Where are the plates so I can set the table?”

The scowl he gave me was vicious enough to make a grown man cry. “Go sit down. I don’t need help.”

“I—” My mouth fell open in surprise. I was used to Elliot speaking sharply. It was his style. But standing here in his home while I held my baby, I hadn’t expected it. “All right. Do it yourself.”

My heart slamming in my chest, I whirled around and marched to the barstools on the other side of the kitchen. The effect of my march was lessened by my pronounced limp, but at least I’d tried.

Once I climbed onto the high stool and adjusted Joey in my arms, I dared to look at Elliot. He was in the same spot, watching me. His mouth was so soft when at rest, but right now, it was hard as stone. All of him was.

“I’m sitting,” I said.

He lowered his chin and started plating the food. My stomach rumbled from the aroma of garlic and tomatoes filling the kitchen, and my mouth watered. I might have been uncomfortable with the general situation, but that wasn’t going to stop me from going to town on my gnocchi.

Elliot placed my plate in front of me, and it held a lot more than gnocchi. There was thick garlic bread, eggplant parm, roasted green beans, and a salad on the side. I wasn’t even going to pretend to be dainty and not eat it all.

“This looks incredible.” And it was going to be demolished in minutes. “I’m going to dive in in about five seconds because feeding this girl has made me hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

I gave him a sidelong glance as he took the seat beside mine. The strength of his frown had dwindled.

“Please, dig in. You deserve a nice meal, and I’m sure Josephine will thank you later for it.”

I snorted a soft laugh. “Do you think my milk will be richer from this food than PBJs?”

He tilted his head toward my plate. “It’s worth a shot.”

I smiled at him for a split second before turning all my attention to my food. Well, most of it. Joey was in one arm, so I had to be careful not to drop anything on her head. Poor thing had been glopped with jelly more than once, but luckily, she forgave me.

Elliot tapped my arm. “Here. Let me hold her while you eat.”

I paused, my garlic bread halfway to my mouth. “What? No. You need to eat too.”

He held out his hands, insistent. “I’m fine, and I have a feeling you’ll clean your plate pretty quickly anyway. Give her to me.”

He didn’t really wait for me to hand her over, scooping her out of my arms like he was a professional. Elliot was good at everything I’d seen him do, and now I could add “holding my newborn daughter” to the list.

“Thank you,” I rasped, my throat clogged with emotion. “She gets a little fussy in the evening. I haven’t been able to eat dinner with both hands in a long time.”

Supporting the back of her head in his wide palm, he held her on his arm so he could peer down at her.

“You don’t look fussy to me,” he said to Joey in his usual tone. “You do move a lot, though. I remember you in your mom’s tummy. You were rolling like an alligator.”

She kicked her legs and stared up at him like she did her best friend, the ceiling fan. Her big milk-chocolate eyes were fascinated, locked on Elliot and hardly blinking.

I swallowed my bite of garlic bread and wiped my mouth. “You’re good at holding babies. Have you been around many?”

“This is my first one.” He dragged his fingertip along her cheek. “I did some reading on the subject.”

From anyone else, that would have sounded silly, but I knew this man. Elliot Levy didn’t do anything unless he knew every angle before going in. When I thought about it, it didn’t surprise me in the least that he’d researched how to hold a newborn.

“What else did you learn? Maybe you can teach me something since all my knowledge comes from trial and error.”

He hmphed. “I doubt you weren’t prepared for her. You might not do research the way I do, but I saw the bassinet and car seat. They have the highest safety ratings and most customer satisfaction. It isn’t a coincidence you chose those.”

I swallowed my eggplant parm. “It isn’t. I can shop with the best of them. It’s the taking care of an infant and raising her to be a healthy, happy, functioning human being I doubt myself on.”

“Hmmm. I don’t know.” He swayed Joey back and forth. “She looks pretty good to me.”

“I had her living in a hovel.”

He shot me a pointed look. “She had floors, Catherine.”

I exhaled, tension flowing out with my heavy breath. “Yeah. She did have that, Elliot.”

Joey went to sleep easy for me. For once, my arms and shoulders weren’t tight with tension. Maybe she felt it and relaxed too. Whatever the reason, she passed out after I fed her and was snug in her bassinet for her first night in her new, temporary home.

Elliot appeared in the open doorway just as I was about to sit down on my bed to examine my foot. He waved me over, so I grabbed the baby monitor and went to him.

“I noticed you were still limping after dinner,” he whispered. “Let me check out your foot.”

“Do you have bandages?”

“In my bathroom.”

I followed him down the hall and into his bedroom, which had the same layout as mine. The design was chic and unfussy like the rest of the house, but there were small details that made this room appear just a little more lived-in than the rest.

The book and unfolded glasses on the nightstand.

A dent in the thick duvet, where I imagined Elliot might have sat to put on his socks.

A barely there hint of citrus, a note of Elliot’s cologne.

A gorgeous chrome wall piece over the bed I wished I could have explored closer, but that would have meant climbing onto the mattress, and well…no.

Elliot noticed me looking at his art. “Do you like it?”

I nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“Luca made it. He calls his art a hobby.” From the subtle shake of his head, he disagreed.

“Wow. I only studied art history for a semester, but to my completely untrained eye, Luca has a lot of talent.”

“He does, but his family obligations mean his focus is running Rossi Motors.”

“Family is always a double-edged sword like that.”

Elliot hummed once, then fell silent and held his arm out, directing me into the bathroom. This room was nearly identical to mine, with sleek black cabinets and gleaming white tiles. The tub stood apart from the wall, and above it hung a metal and glass mobile.

I pointed to it. “One of Luca’s too?”

“It is.” He patted the counter. “Can you hop up here? It’ll be easier for me to check you out.”

I started to hobble to the counter, but my pride insisted I throw out another protest. “I could do this myself, you know.”

“I’m aware you’re able to, but I’d like to see for myself how serious it is.”

I pushed myself up, my butt landing on the marble between twin sinks. I still only had one sock on, the tissue, and the tiny bandage. Elliot wasn’t going to be impressed with my first aid skills.

He stacked supplies on the counter beside me, then dragged over a teak bench and sat down in front of me. “I’m going to take off your sock now.”

I nodded my consent, and he wrapped his long fingers around my ankle, lifting my foot onto his knee. He carefully peeled my sock off, and with it came the majority of the bloody tissue.

He grunted, shoulder bobbing up and down. His disapproving thoughts were broadcast so loudly I could almost hear them.

“You have to take better care of yourself, Catherine,” he admonished softly, ripping the Band-Aid off in one swift motion.

“I know.” I rubbed my palm along my thigh. “It’s been rough lately.”

“It doesn’t have to be anymore.” With a warm washcloth, he swiped the sole of my foot, a frown pinching his brows. “You really jabbed yourself, but it appears it’s stopped bleeding.”

His hands were smooth and sure, wiping my sole until it was clean. As the water cooled on my skin, I felt his breath heating it again. His concentration was focused completely on his task, allowing me to watch him uninterrupted.

“Your foot is so small,” he remarked as he dried me off.

“I’m short. They match the rest of me.” Not that I was small. My ass and thighs, and now my rounded stomach and swollen breasts, prevented that from ever being so.

He lifted my foot, turning it right and left to examine it. “Do you want to talk about it, Catherine?”

I rolled my lips over my teeth and shook my head. “Not really, if that’s okay.”

“It is. But I would like you to tell me when you’re ready.” He opened a bandage and tossed the wrapper aside. I flinched when it landed on the ground. I’d never seen Elliot so careless, but he was focused on his task.

“I’m really embarrassed,” I whispered.

His eyes darted up to meet mine, and I knew I was flaming red from the heat suffusing my cheeks. There were a lot of ways he could have interpreted what I meant since so much had gone wrong lately.

The state of my house.

Broke as a joke.

Abandoned by Liam.

Being wholly alone.

Injuring myself on my own shitty floors.

Letting Elliot tend to me.

“Don’t be.” His thumbs pressed into the arch of my foot, behind my injury, and something unfurled in my belly. “I know you well. You wouldn’t be in this situation if it could have been helped.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” He held my foot tenderly, stroking the sides and along the top, all the way to the elastic band around the ankle. It was such a sweet and unexpected gesture I didn’t have a chance to decide how I felt about it before he changed the topic. “These sweats are way too big for you. I’m concerned you’ll trip and knock yourself out.”

“No, I love them. You’ll have to pry these sweats out of my cold, dead hands.”

He huffed a laugh. “I guess I know why your ex didn’t take them with him.”

“They probably once belonged to a man, but not my man.” I plucked at the worn gray fabric on my thigh. “These bad boys are mine, all mine, courtesy of a Goodwill shopping trip. Also, Liam isn’t my ex. He was just a friend.”

Elliot gave me his infamous doubting raised brow. “The baby in the bedroom down the hall says otherwise.”

“One time trying each other on for size didn’t make us a couple. It did make us parents, though.”

“Hmmm.” He was still holding my foot, still stroking it and looking up at me with an intensity only he possessed. “You said ‘was’ when claiming him as a friend. He’s not anymore?”

I shook my head, sadness blanketing me at the loss of the man I’d trusted and shared so many life-changing experiences with over the last four years.

“No. He’s definitely not my friend anymore.” I lifted my shoulder. “It’s a lesson learned. I won’t ever depend on other people.”

“That’s a shitty lesson.”

“Yeah. It definitely is.” My mouth pressed into a tight smile as I slipped my foot from his hands. “Thank you for fixing me up. Do you think I’ll live?”

“Yes. I know you will.” Shooting up from the little teak bench, he kicked it out of the way and held out his hands to me. “Come on. I’ll help you down. You shouldn’t be jumping on that foot.”

He was right, of course, but I hesitated to put my hands in his anyway. We’d had enough touchy-feeliness tonight to confuse my vulnerable emotions. But he was just being polite and helpful like he’d been all evening.

When Elliot got tired of waiting on me to stop vacillating, which didn’t take long, he cupped my elbows and pulled me toward him. For a second, I was suspended in the air, pressed to Elliot’s front, before he placed me gently on the ground. His hands stayed on my elbows to steady me until I looked up at him.

“I’m good now. I can make it back to my bedroom.”

He stepped away immediately, allowing me to pass him out of the bathroom, then trailed behind me to my bedroom door, where he stopped on the other side.

“Good night, Catherine.”

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, breathless from my hammering heart. “Good night, Elliot.”