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

by Julia Wolf

The therapist I’d been forced to see when I was a teen would have been proud…ish.

My middle finger was absolutely itching to rise, but I curled it into my palm. Tomorrow’s postscript was going to be a doozy, cuss words and all.

“I do if it affects your work. Is this”—I outlined the shape of her stomach in the air in front of me—“going to slow you down?” “Again, are you allowed to ask me that?”

P.S. I’d rather give birth a hundred times than be in your presence.

“What kind of background check did you do? Did you look at my dental records?” “Yes. You’re due for a cleaning,” he deadpanned.

I was starved for attention.

“She’s been hearing my voice all this time,” he murmured. “Yep. I’d say she’s formed an opinion of you.”

“I don’t take my title of Daddy lightly. I’ll be there too, but I’m not looking. Strictly moral support.” “I didn’t give you that title,” I reminded him.

Glaring back at it, I whispered, “Go fuck yourself. You’re just a card. What do you know? You don’t even have a brain.”

Daniel had probably gotten far too comfortable in my absence, and we really couldn’t have that.

I might have been uncomfortable with the general situation, but that wasn’t going to stop me from going to town on my gnocchi.

“Can I hug you?” I asked. “If you feel like you have to.” He opened his arms wide. “Make it quick.”

The postscripts. Goddamn postscripts.

Joey kicked her feet and gazed up at the light fixture, her brow crinkled. She still loved the fan above my bed, maybe more than she loved me, but she was crushing on this light.

My brain decided to leave the chat, giving my instincts the reins, which was just unbelievable. My instincts could not be trusted.

I wasn’t in my best form.” “Your form was fine. I was the one who attacked you.”

Call me a sick fuck,

“It’s not eavesdropping if I happen to walk into the room while you’re spilling secrets to your baby.”

P.S. You are a hardcore cuddler. No sense of personal space at all. I liked it.

You guys are cute. Like grumpy sunshine on crack.” He pointed at me. “He’s the one on crack, by the way.”

“Have I mentioned I love your girl, Elliot?” Elliot whirled around to scowl at him. “No. And you’ll continue not to mention that.”

“I’m here because I’m really good at solving other people’s problems and ignoring mine.”

Once I’ve got the plans wrapped up, Baby Bird has to fly with her own wings.” I waved. “Hi, I’m Baby Bird.”

He groaned, his forehead crinkling. “I’m going to have to snuggle with Daniel. Who’s got it worse?”

Daniel’s shaking has mysteriously diminished lately. Could it be the desert air? Or is he no longer afraid of me?

“Sometimes. Honestly, I’ll answer to either. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Hmmm. How about if I call you Cockweasel? Will you answer to that?

If I’d predicted what Catherine would do, it would have been to tell William van der Wyck to get bent, not initiate a phone call behind closed doors.

A nice family home. It made me sick.