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

ELLIOT LEVY WAS ON my porch.

Elliot Levy was. On. My. Porch.

“Elliot?”

He stared at me for a long time. Unblinking, taking me in like he was trying to figure out who I was. Seeing as he had shown up at my home, it made no sense whatsoever.

I stared back. His ebony hair was tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all morning. His plush mouth molded into a frown, pulling the rest of his face down with it, a deep crevice forming between his brows.

My chest panged. I’d missed him, but that didn’t seem right. How could I have missed this unyielding, deadly-serious man?

My jumbled-up emotions were tricking me.

It had been a rough day. Joey-Girl was perfection, but everything else was in shambles.

She still hadn’t gotten into any of the day cares, and I was feeling the weight of really having to put her in one of my drawers when I went back to work.

Even heavier on my mind was my house. I couldn’t sell it in the condition it was in, and I had to. I absolutely had to, or I’d be so screwed. But I was in no position to do all the work that had to be done, nor did I have the money to buy the supplies. I’d thought about calling my parents more and more often, and I hated the very idea.

I’d let myself cry while Joey slept. It was the only thing I could do when none of my efforts were making a difference and it felt like I was constantly swimming upstream.

And now this.

Him.

His eyes met mine, and I hoped they weren’t as puffy and red as they felt.

His frown deepened. “This isn’t what you look like.”

My mouth fell open, but I knew exactly what he meant. I wasn’t dressed up like Catherine. Elliot was getting a view of Kit, and he didn’t know this girl.

“Ah—I don’t know what to say to that. This is me when I’m not in the office.” I cocked my head, playing off the fact that I was standing in front of my boss in barely more than underwear. They were clothes from before my pregnancy. They’d been snug then. I was much, much curvier now and all too aware I was spilling out of them.

I shouldn’t have answered the door.

“Sorry. You’re right.” His words were tight. His cheeks flushed like they did when he was pissed at me. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why are you on my porch?”

“I’ve come for the schematics.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks and rocked on his toes like he was preparing to make a run for it.

“I told Daniel to send a messenger. Was he too frightened to tell you that?”

“No, he told me. It was easier for me to come for them myself.” His frown had flattened into a hard line. “Is this how you always answer the door, Catherine?”

“No one ever comes to my door, Elliot.” His unwavering stare pricked at my bare skin. I’d always been so careful to cover my tattoos at work, but all that effort of finding conservative, nunlike clothing had been thrown out the window. He was seeing way more of me than I’d ever wanted to show him.

“Anyone could see you like this.”

I glanced left and right. The sidewalks were empty. “No one is around. I think I’m safe.”

I crossed my arms under my breasts, thinking better of it when his gaze homed in on my propped-up cleavage.

My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and I gripped the edge of the door. I wasn’t afraid of Elliot. It was the situation. I hadn’t prepared myself to see him. “I’ll go find them. It might take me some time since everything’s sort of a mess right now.”

Understatement. But he didn’t need to know about the hellhole on the other side of the door.

“I can wait,” he said.

“Great.”

I moved back to close the door in his face, but Elliot stepped inside, taking it as an opening. Then he took the door from me and shut it behind him.

Instant panic climbed up my throat. This was my shame. If he saw it, he’d know I’d let myself be taken in—that I’d been so desperate for a friend, someone to call my family, I’d trusted someone I shouldn’t have. Someone who was so unworthy of it, a blind person would have seen that.

“What are you doing?” I squeezed out.

“Waiting.”

“You should wait outside, I’m—”

He was already walking past me into the barren living room where I’d left Joey on her play mat.

Joey and I had spent a lot of time holed away in her room or mine, but I’d been going a little stir-crazy today, so I’d brought some blankets down to pad the rough subflooring and her mat for her to play on.

Today, of all freaking days.

Elliot crouched down beside my daughter, peering at her as she windmilled her arms and kicked her feet. He hadn’t said anything, so maybe the sight of my gorgeous daughter had blinded him to the wreckage surrounding her.

“Hello, Josephine,” he said softly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

I moved around them so I could see what he was doing. She clutched his index finger in her little fist, and he didn’t seem in a hurry to rip his hand away from her. Joey was a curious little creature, but she was gazing up at Elliot, her eyes wider than I’d ever seen them.

“She doesn’t see many people,” I explained. “You’re like a shiny new toy.”

“That’s understandable. Everything’s brand new for her.” He glanced at me. “She has an impressive grip for such a small person.”

“Everything she does is impressive.”

His brow winged. “Aren’t you a little biased?”

“More than a little.”

His mouth hitched at the corner. “Fair enough.” He jerked his chin. “Go find the schematics.”

I hesitated to leave them alone. I’d have to go upstairs and wouldn’t be able to see them.

His head tilted. “You can leave her with me. I’m not going to steal her. What would I do with a baby?”

“I—” I had nothing. There was no reason not to trust that Elliot wouldn’t abscond with Joey, and if she cried, I’d hear her. Besides, she was happy as a clam, and he didn’t seem to mind hanging out with her. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“No need to rush,” he called as I raced up the stairs.

Oh, I’d be rushing. The longest I’d spent away from Joey was when we were both asleep and Raymond stole her on our handful of coffee dates. I also couldn’t imagine Elliot would know what to do if she started to cry. Granted, it was rare. She was generally a cheerful kind of gal unless she got hangry.

In my haste, I forgot I’d taken my shoes off while sitting on the blankets with Joey. I wasn’t a shoes-in-the-house kind of person. In this house, though, I’d become one since all my floors were basically raw wood.

My bare foot came into contact with a sharp shard of wood, slicing through my skin like butter. The immediate pain took my breath away. It was the only reason I didn’t howl like a dying wolf.

“Shit, motherclucking clucker.” I hobbled down the hall to the bathroom and collapsed on the side of the tub to examine the damage.

Blood seeped from the sole of my foot, and I could have wept. This was adding insult to injury. Too much on top of the mountains I was buried under. Why hadn’t I taken the time to put on my flip-flops?

I cleaned my foot with a washcloth. It hadn’t stopped bleeding, but I didn’t think I’d need stitches. A pile of bandages would do.

I opened the medicine cabinet, managing to only find a small one meant for a paper cut—not a stabbing.

“Why?” I hit the hollow box against my forehead and groaned. “Why, why, why?”

What kind of mother didn’t have Band-Aids? Not that Joey would ever get hurt, but I should have been prepared for everything. I was useless. Poor thing had been born to a mom who couldn’t even patch herself up. Hell, I couldn’t even provide my baby with real floors.

If it weren’t for Joey, I would have curled up on the floor and given up for a while. God, that sounded enticing. Getting up from the side of the tub seemed much too big right now, but I had to. My boss was downstairs, expecting me to be a functioning human being even though I was hanging on by a fraying thread.

Sucking it up, I slapped on the tiny bandage, then wrapped my foot in toilet paper and carefully slipped on a sock to keep it all in place.

My first step made me hiss with pain, but I kept going. If I stopped, I might not have been able to convince myself to start again. The very last thing I needed was Elliot discovering me slumped in my hallway, bleeding out from a flesh wound.

It took me a considerable amount of time, but finally, my brain came back online. The schematics were in my workbag. I’d taken them home the night before I’d gone into labor and had completely forgotten about them. It made sense they would be there, which was why I’d checked every other place first.

I hobbled downstairs slowly, crossing my fingers the makeshift bandage would stay in place. The sounds of the music from Joey’s play mat drifted up from the living room, but it was otherwise silent.

A kernel of panic took root in my chest. Joey might not have cried a lot, but she made noises. Where were her noises?

I hurried into the living room, and the kernel grew until it filled my sternum. They weren’t there. The play mat was empty.

“Elliot?” I called. “Where are you?”

Only a second or two passed, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, Elliot appeared in the kitchen doorway, Joey in his arms.

“We’re here,” he answered.

My heart was still lodged firmly in my throat. “You’re holding her.”

He had my daughter against his chest, facing outward, his hand on her belly to keep her stable. She seemed content, her head resting against him, his suit sleeve clenched in her fist.

Somehow, this was different than when Raymond held her. Ray loved Joey, and they were buddies. It made me smile to see them together.

But this…I wasn’t smiling. Despite myself, my thighs pressed together, and heat flooded my core.

What is this?

“She seemed bored, so I took her out back to see the birds.” He patted her round middle. “If I measure her enjoyment by the amount of drool that dripped on my arm, she liked it very much.”

A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled out of me. This was all so surreal. “My daughter drooled on you?”

“She did.”

“You don’t seem mad.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not a monster, Catherine. I knew the risks of holding a baby and picked her up anyway.” He jiggled her softly, and she settled even more in his arms.

I didn’t know how to handle this man holding my daughter so delicately—or my body’s immediate reaction. I walked toward them, intent on taking her back, giving him the schematics, and hustling him out of there so I could regain a semblance of equilibrium.

“You’re limping.”

I stopped moving. “Yes. I stubbed my toe. I’m fine, though.”

He closed the distance between us. When Joey alighted on me, she gave me my favorite smile: open-mouthed with the sweetest little coo.

“Hi, Joey-Girl,” I cooed back. “Did you get a ride with Elliot? He’s so tall, isn’t he? You’ve never been that high up before.”

“Her father’s short?”

I huffed. “No. He’s pretty tall too.”

His eyes narrowed. I held his gaze, my chin jutting out. I carried a lot of shame. Liam choosing not to be part of Joey’s life was his to bear.

“He hasn’t held her,” Elliot concluded.

“He’s not on the same continent, so no, he hasn’t.” I waved the file he’d come for. “Here it is. Should we trade?”

“I think you’re getting the better deal,” he murmured as he handed me Joey and slipped the file from my hand.

Joey nuzzled her face against my neck, and I placed a kiss on her fuzzy head. “You’d better get back to the office. Daniel might be getting too comfortable in your absence.”

“Yes, that is a concern.” He rubbed his chin while looking me over. I’d thrown on a T-shirt, so there was far less skin on display, but his gaze was so penetrating I might as well have been naked. “Are you doing okay?”

I nodded, even though I wanted to shout to the rooftops that I wasn’t even close to okay. How could he look around and not see that? “I’m good. How about you?”

“I’m fine, as always.” He exhaled slowly through his nose. “Your presence is missed in the office.”

My lips tilted in a smirk. “I miss the office’s presence too.”

“Well…” bowing his head, his nostrils flared, “I’ll be off. Like you said, can’t let Daniel get too comfortable.”

Elliot’s exit was swift and final, the door clicking shut behind him.

I looked down at Joey and kissed the tip of her button nose. “That was strange, right? Elliot Levy stood in our hovel and didn’t utter a single word of criticism.”

He didn’t ask any questions either, which was unlike him as well. I guessed he was silently judging me.

“Very, very strange.”