P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)(35)

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 find.” 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 finding 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.