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.”
Chapter Sixteen
Catherine
When Joey and I finally made our way downstairs in the morning, Elliot was long gone, but he’d left me a croissant on a plate on the counter, along with a note and his garage door opener.
Catherine,
There’s fruit in the refrigerator and groceries will be delivered at 2 p.m. I didn’t know what you like to have on hand, so I ordered some of everything. In the future, you can make a list. It was my mistake not asking for your requests.
Please make yourself at home. I left you the remote to the garage. The alarm code is 052106.
I have a dinner to attend tonight, so unfortunately, I won’t be able to eat with you. I left a list of restaurants where I have a tab if you’d like to order out.
Yours,
Elliot
P.S. You’re welcome here as long as you like.
I opened the fridge, and not only was there a cup of fruit salad, but right beside it was an iced coffee from my favorite café. How early must he have ordered this for it to have arrived before he left for the office?
“Look at us, Joey-Girl. We’re living the high life now, aren’t we?” Joey gurgled and nuzzled my chest like she was looking for a third breakfast when her tummy was still round from her second one. “Okay, lady. You have to let me eat some of this delicious-looking food Elliot left for me before you get breakfast number three.”
Her brow crinkled like she was insulted. I kissed her wrinkly little forehead and started plating my food one-handed while we chatted.
“I swear I’m not body shaming you, honey. You’re a growing girl who needs lots and lots of milk. I get you. But Mommy’s hungry too, you know? And as Elliot pointed out last night, your milk will be richer when I eat all this fancy food. I’m not sure that’s a scientific fact, but honestly, it sounds true.”