P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)

I understood that flailing feeling. I’d been doing a lot of it lately.

“We’re going to be productive today.” I showed her my phone. “I have a list of day cares. I’m going to call all of them and convince them they want to take care of you. It’s that, or into the drawer you go. And I promise, as cozy as a drawer might sound, it probably gets boring quickly. Plus, there would be lots of grown-ups around, talking about serious grown-up things you wouldn’t be interested in. Although Daddy Ray’s there, so there’s that…”

Thankfully, Elliot didn’t walk in on this conversation. That was the only high point of my morning. The rest was akin to banging my head against the wall.

No decent day care had openings. The wait lists were miles long.

Elliot was being kind and understanding now, but I doubted he would stay that way when I had to bring my baby to work.



I groaned as I slurped up another scoop of Pad Thai. As usual these days, I was fighting starvation, and Elliot had brought home a Thai feast. He’d loaded my plate with all of my favorites, then taken my baby from me so I could enjoy all of it.

Elliot chuckled. “That good?”

My face heated, and I wiped my mouth with my napkin. I’d been in a slight daze, shoveling food in my mouth as fast as I could, definitely not like a lady, as my mother had taught me.

“It’s incredible,” I answered once I’d swallowed. “You should really join me. I hate that you’re letting your food get cold.”

“Not a problem, Catherine.” Joey’s body was extended along his forearm, her head nestled in his palm. She was content hanging out with him, and for his part, he seemed perfectly fine holding her while I ate. “Have you ever known me not to voice when I’m not pleased?”

“No.” I breathed a laugh. “You have no problem expressing your displeasure.”

“Then trust that I would tell you if I have an issue with our current circumstances.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try to remember that. I guess it’s a mom thing, feeling guilty about not taking care of her every second of every day.”

“Hmm. How are you going to handle day care?”

Puffing up my cheeks, I blew out a long, heavy breath. “That might not be a problem since I can’t get her in anywhere. My current plan is keeping her in my bottom drawer.”

His brow winged. “No. That’ll never work.”

My shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I know. I—”

“Your bottom drawer is far too narrow. The rate she eats, she’ll outgrow it within a month.”

I stared at him, blinking. To my utter surprise, he cocked a small grin.

He was teasing me.

Elliot Levy was teasing me.

What in the freaking world?

“Damn. Since the drawer’s out, I’ll have to come up with a Plan B,” I played along. “Maybe one of your drawers will do.”

“Have you thought about a nanny? One-on-one attention would be ideal anyway.”

I chuffed. “Sure, I’ve thought of it, and it would be great. But I’ve checked, and a nanny isn’t anywhere close to within my budget.”

His brow dropped. “Admittedly, nannies are one thing I haven’t researched—”

“Let me figure it out. It’s my job.”

This was sticky territory. If I explained why I couldn’t afford a nanny, I’d have to tell him about my contractor’s salary. And that would be a slippery slope to the whole truth about Liam and my résumé.

“All right. If you want to handle it on your own, I won’t interfere. Just know that I’ll do what I can to help.”

“Why?”

Joey made little sounds of discontent, so he lifted her to his shoulder and gently patted her back.

“Why?” he repeated.

“Why do you want to help me, Elliot?”

He cocked his head. “I would think it’s obvious, Catherine.”

I waited with bated breath for him to continue because it certainly wasn’t obvious to me.

He finally went on. “You’ve managed to make yourself vital to me. I want you back at work as soon as your leave is over, and I’d rather you not be worried about Josephine all day. If I can do anything to ease that path, I will.”

Ah, there it was. That made perfect sense.

And yet, I felt oddly disappointed by his answer for reasons I didn’t care to closely examine.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do,” I replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He tipped his chin at my plate. “Eat up. Your daughter is trying to find milk on my shoulder, and I suspect she will soon run out of patience when she discovers the well is dry.”

He was letting me out of this conversation for now, but I knew it wasn’t over. He had more questions for me that I would have to answer.

But that was later. For now, I had a plate full of delicious Thai food to finish.





Chapter Seventeen





Elliot





Catherine appeared in the living room, swinging a baby monitor from her index finger. I’d been doing work on my laptop, waiting for her to show, though I hadn’t been certain she would.

I clicked my computer shut and set it beside me. “She’s asleep?”

“Like a baby.”

She handed me the monitor and plopped down on the opposite side of the couch from me, tucking her legs beneath her.

The screen showed Jo swaddled in her bassinet, her head turned to the side, lips pursed like she was dreaming about milk. She probably was. Milk and her mom were all she knew. A simple, perfect little world.

“Do you spend a lot of time staring at this?” I asked, placing the monitor between us.

“Probably too much.” She wrinkled her nose. “When I brought her home, I had the bassinet right beside my bed, but every little noise she made had me popping up to check on her. I’m a bad sleeper as it is, but I really couldn’t get any rest like that. My solution was to move her to the far side of my bedroom and set up the monitor.”

“Did it help?”

She shrugged. “A little. I’m still a shit sleeper, but I’ve always been like that.”

“Why are you a shit sleeper?”

“Don’t know. My dad used to say my mind was a dervish, always whipping up trouble.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

Her mouth curved. “Well, you didn’t know younger me. I was a major troublemaker.”

“I wouldn’t have believed that a couple weeks ago, but now that I’ve seen all your tattoos…”

She pushed up the sleeve of her cardigan, revealing her inked forearm. “Maybe I just like being colorful. Don’t tell me you’ve got a boomer mindset and everyone who has tattoos is a criminal.”