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

SATURDAY MORNING, I PADDED downstairs with Joey. We’d had a lie-in snuggling in my bed after we both woke up, her nursing like a maniac and me soaking up every bit of her I’d missed all week at work.

Now, I was starving, and she was chilling in my arms.

The house was quiet. Elliot was probably at the gym or the office. He didn’t spend much time relaxing, as far as I had noticed, which was a shame because he could have used it.

After the incident at Rockford yesterday, he was even more uptight than usual. It had been like pulling teeth to get one-word answers during dinner last night, so I’d given up and ate in silence while he’d held Joey, then disappeared upstairs with her as soon as I’d finished.

Like every morning, a note was waiting for me on the counter.

Catherine,

I’ll be home by 10.

We’ll go shopping after Josephine’s first nap.

Coffee’s in the refrigerator.

Yours,

Elliot

P.S. You did nothing wrong yesterday.

I reread his note, flabbergasted at his stating I’d done nothing wrong when he’d definitely acted like I had.

And shopping? I’d completely forgotten about that after the whole Gavin incident.

I hadn’t really thought he’d meant it.

“Do I want to go shopping with Elliot?” I nuzzled Joey’s nose. “Do you want to go shopping with him?”

She gurgled and windmilled her arms, which didn’t help me at all.

“You know, when you start talking, we’re going to have the best chats. Hopefully you’ll be able to give me some advice. I can’t really decipher what spit bubbles mean. Was that a yes or no?”

She gave me a gummy smile.

“That looks like a yes, honey. You want to go shopping with Elliot?” I walked over to the fridge, jiggling her bottom. “I don’t know, it might be a little awkward. Is he going to approve of my clothing choices? Or hold my purse while I go in the dressing room? I don’t get it. What do you think?”

The first sip of my iced coffee set off a Pavlovian response, instantly clearing my foggy thoughts away and straightening my spine. Joey giggled when I rattled the ice in front of her.

“Since I’ve never looked a gift horse in the mouth once, I’m not about to start now.” I kissed Joey’s fuzzy head. “That’s your first life lesson, honey. When you’re offered something generous, don’t hem and haw, grab it and figure the rest out later.”

Elliot showed up soon after I’d put Joey down for her nap. He was waiting for me outside her door and motioned for me to follow him to the study down the hall.

I hadn’t ventured into this room since I hadn’t been invited and was being extra careful not to overstep my bounds. But I’d peeked because I really hadn’t been able to help myself.

There was a wall covered in crisp white shelves with rows of books on each of them. It wasn’t full, so I imagined which books I’d want to add if it were mine. Lots of romance. I was addicted to happy endings. And hot sex. Had to have that too. Was it really a happy ending without that?

A fireplace was the focal point of the opposite side of the room, where there was a cozy-looking leather couch and two armchairs. The dark wood floors were made warmer with a thick, cream rug my feet sank into.

Elliot pressed against the small of my back, directing me to the couch. He sat down beside me and dragged his hand through his damp hair. He must have been home for a while and had taken a shower while I’d been busy with Joey.

“Did you go to the gym this morning?” I asked.

“I did.” His hand fell heavily in his lap. “You saw my note?”

“Of course. I’m so used to looking for them, I’ll be alarmed when you stop leaving them.”

“Then I won’t stop.” He sighed. “I was in the wrong yesterday. I’m sorry for being a dick to you.”

“What about to Gavin? You were a dick to him.”

“Fuck him,” he bit out. Then he sighed again, his hands flexing on his knees.

“Sorry, I’m teasing you.” I patted his tense hand. “I appreciate the apology. I was sure you were going to fire me at any moment.”

His head whipped in my direction, his brow deeply furrowed. “I’m not going to fire you, Catherine.”

“Ever?”

“Well, there are limits. Don’t burn down my buildings or shoot someone in front of me.”

I couldn’t quite feel relief because words and promises meant a lot less to me than they had before. So many had been taken back or broken. Elliot probably meant what he said now, but things could easily change. I had to tread lightly.

“Wow, I’m not sure if it’s safe to give me so much leeway. I guess it’s a good thing I like my job and really don’t like firearms or open flames.”

His frown deepened. “You like your job? You’d be the first.”

“It took me a while to get used to working for you, but yeah, I like it.”

His jaw rippled, but his brow softened as he looked me over. “I interrupted something yesterday.”

I waved him off. “It isn’t a big deal. I was trying to figure out a way to turn him down, so your timing was pretty impeccable. Your delivery could have been less brutal, though.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

I wondered how much he’d seen. It made me a little queasy to think he’d witnessed me flirting back. I hadn’t meant it, but it didn’t look good for me.

“It wasn’t him in particular I was enjoying.” I dug my teeth into my bottom lip, searching for a way to explain. “This is the first time in about a year a man has looked at me as more than an incubator or random harried mother. It was nice to be seen as me for a few minutes.”

He gave a sharp nod. “I see.”

“It won’t happen again, though.” When his brow winged, I hurried to clarify. “I mean, I won’t put myself in that situation at work, even if you claim you won’t fire me. You don’t have to worry about me hitting on men in your buildings.”

“That wasn’t what worried me.” He turned away, his hands flexing again.

“What were you worried about?”

“Will you be dating?” Elliot was always controlled, but he uttered his question like each word was tied up in rope and under his whim.

A puff of air burst out of me. “One day, in the future, maybe. That’s not for right now. I don’t have any desire for that. The attention, though…that was nice.”

Another nod, then he pushed to his feet and offered me a hand. I slipped mine in his, and he pulled me up faster than I expected, sending me colliding into his chest. Instead of moving back or steadying me, he wrapped me in an embrace.

“Hug,” he softly demanded.

“Okay.” I circled my arms around him, my stress from the last twenty-four hours slipping as his heart thumped under my cheek.

And then, there was a light pressure on the top of my head that disappeared as quickly as it had come. I must have been mistaken, but I swore it felt like Elliot had kissed my head.

Which would have been crazy because he wouldn’t.

This hug was sweet and kind. Despite his marble-like facade, time and time again, he’d shown me he was capable of it.

I tipped my head back. He was looking down at me, a flush rising over his cheeks. What had I done to make him angry this time? It was probably my clinging.

I stepped back, slipping from his arms. “I’m going to check on Joey.”

“All right,” he clipped, confirming he was unhappy with me. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave. I’ll be waiting.”

My stomach was still a bag of slithering snakes when I followed Elliot out into the garage a couple hours later. He carried Joey’s car seat like it weighed nothing, the sinews of his forearms rippling as he shifted her. He looked good like that. Incredibly good.

Which only added to the squirmy feeling and helped nothing at all.

I stopped him when he headed to his car. “We can just take my car. It’s a pain to transfer the car seat base.”

“We’ll take my car.” He opened the back door. “I have a base now too.”

Oh god, the snakes…they were writhing up to my chest. There, in his back seat, was a base identical to the one in mine. Elliot easily snapped Joey in and brushed her short hair to the side before turning to me.

“What do you think? Does she look secure?”

My inhale was jagged. I’d seen him hold Joey countless times now, but this…I didn’t know how to cope with him installing a base for her seat. His beautiful, pristine car now had a place for my daughter to ride safely whenever necessary. This gesture was probably practical and simple to him, but to me, it was like giving me a bouquet of my favorite flowers. If I was another type of girl, I would have swooned.

Even though this was Elliot, I forced myself forward to check. He didn’t do anything unless he could do it well.

I gave her seat a jiggle and booped her nose. “We’re going for a ride in Elliot’s car, Joey-Girl. Won’t that be fun?” She flashed me a drooly smile, and I peered at him over my shoulder. He was closer than I thought, standing over me, observing our interaction. “I think that means she’s down with the idea.”

He nodded. “Let’s go then.”

I shopped at thrift stores on a regular basis. Target if I was feeling fancy.

Elliot took me to a department store so far outside of my budget it wasn’t funny. My mother would have shopped here, but not me. My reservations were high, and he knew it, but he’d asked me to trust him, so I did.

He pushed Joey’s stroller, guiding me to a private room with far too many mirrors, tufted velvet settees, and a chandelier that sparkled like diamonds.

My own personal shopper led me behind a curtain where there were racks of clothes she claimed to have picked out for me. How she knew my size, I had no idea. I didn’t even know what size I was anymore.

“Mr. Levy said you need work clothes. He specified short sleeves,” Nan, my shopper, informed me, bustling around the racks. The two of us couldn’t have been more opposite. Nan was a forty-ish, tiny, platinum blonde wearing skintight leather pants and a silky camisole, but she’d picked out beautiful clothing that, at first glance, appeared to be close to my style.

Joey was being patient, and Elliot wanted me to do this, so I’d humor him and play his game. Maybe I could buy one or two things, but that was a big maybe. Then I caught a glimpse of a price tag, and it was an immediate no. Who paid four hundred dollars for pants?

My mother, for one.

Elliot too, since he’d brought me here.

Not me. The clothes I had seen were beautiful, but no. I’d have fun trying them on and try to re-create something similar at a thrift shop.

Nan put me in a pair of wide-leg trousers and a short-sleeved, sage-green cardigan. They both fit like a glove, and Nan was pleased with herself, pressing her hands together under her chin.

“This is perfect. Mr. Levy will love this,” Nan oozed, rushing toward the curtain.

“I doubt Elliot will have an opinion.”

“Of course he will. He asked for me to have you show him everything.” She ripped back the curtain, gesturing for me to follow her. Reluctantly, I did.

Elliot was sitting on the settee, rocking the stroller back and forth. He lifted his eyes from Joey to meet mine.

“I’m told you need to approve my clothing,” I said.

“I asked to see, not approve.” He scanned me from head to toe, but his expression was so inscrutable I had no idea what his opinion was. “Do you like this?”

“I think so.” I spun around to look at myself in the wall of mirrors, trying to focus on the cloth, not be critical of my wild hair and the shadows beneath my eyes.

The pants hugged my butt just right and came up high on my waist, giving me an hourglass shape. The cardigan’s green shade set off my hair. I looked good.

“That’s your color,” Elliot said. “I’m relieved to see you in something other than black.”

I met his gaze in the mirror. “You have a lot of opinions about my clothes.”

He grimaced. “You kept tugging at that dress, Catherine. You were obviously uncomfortable, and I want you to feel good. But I should have kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry.”

“You should have.” I ran my hands from my ribs down to my hips. “I don’t hold a grudge, Elliot. You hurt my feelings then, but you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Maybe I have, but in my experience, saying the words when I’m in the wrong is important to getting right with each other.”

“Well then, we’re right with each other.”

He answered with a slight smile, averting his gaze back to Joey. “Try more on, but you’re definitely getting that outfit.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue—even though I would not be buying these gloriously luxe and shockingly expensive clothes—and went back into the dressing room to try on more.

Next was a knee-length charcoal-gray jumper with a white ruffle-sleeve blouse. Elliot voted yes. By the third outfit, which he also claimed I was getting, I began to think he would be a fan of everything I tried on.

To be fair, I was too, but at these prices, I could maybe afford a pair of socks.

Nan held up a black dress. “You need something to wear when you’re not in the office. Try this on.”

The material was slippery silk. I had to stop myself from reaching out to touch it. It wouldn’t be mine, so feeling how fine the material was would only torture me more.

I bunched my hands at my sides. “No, Nan, I have a baby. I don’t wear slinky little dresses.”

“I have had three babies and I’m still sexy as hell.” She shoved the dress at me. “Just give it a whirl. You won’t be able to resist yourself in it.”

She didn’t give me a choice, manhandling me into the dress. I’d already given up hope of her not seeing me in my underwear. That ship had sailed after the first outfit. And she was so matter of fact about it, I didn’t have a chance to feel self-conscious in front of her.

She pushed me out from behind the curtain before I could even look at myself, and there was nowhere to hide from Elliot’s sweeping stare.

“HI.” I ran my hands over my hips, the fabric just as soft and flowy as it looked. “Nan made me wear this. I’m sure it looks stupid, so I’ll just go take it off as soon as she lets me back in the dressing room.”

“No.” He launched to his feet and ate up the distance between us in a handful of strides. Taking my bare shoulders in his hands, he peered down at me and spoke so softly I had to hang on every word. “You need to look at yourself, Catherine. There is absolutely nothing stupid about the way you look right now.”

He spun me around to face the mirror, but I wasn’t looking at my reflection. All I saw was Elliot. For one fleeting, unguarded moment, his gaze filled with such heat and tenderness I felt it like an avalanche of flames rolling down my body.

A whimper fell from my parted lips.

His eyes met mine.

“Elliot.”

His hand slid from my shoulder, across my chest, up my throat to my chin. Gripping it firmly, he faced me toward the mirror.

“Look, Catherine. See yourself.”