Page 105 of P.S. You're Intolerable

He nodded. “Rings a bell.”

“I need to unwreck it.”

“Do you want to elaborate?”

“Not really. It’s daunting.” I gestured toward the paint swatches. “Paint is all I can sort of wrap my head around as a starting point—” He hissed through his teeth, and my eyes rounded. “Bad idea?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Look, I’m no expert. I’ve been renovating my house for over a year with no end in sight.”

I blinked at him. A year? Oh god, I would die if this dragged on for a year. “Why?”

“Mostly because I’m a slacker with the attention span of a gnat.”

“Do gnats have short attention spans?”

His brow furrowed. “I can’t say for a fact, but I’m thinking they do since their lifespan is so brief. They have to see everything they can in their twenty-four hours of annoying every living being on the planet.”

I snorted a laugh. “Makes sense. Anyway, sorry to derail you. Tell me about your house.”

“Right. I bought an old townhouse last year that was absolutely disgusting. In the seventies, someone decided olive green was a good look for a 1920s kitchen.” His mouth puckered in distaste. “I convinced myself I could do it all despite having no renovation knowledge or the ability to commit.”

“I am not under any such delusions. IknowI can’t do the work myself. Luckily, my friend has a cousin who knows his way around a table saw and is up for the job.”

Raymond and Davida had been too happy to offer their assistance when I told them I wanted to work on my house. They were almost on board with Elliot and me as a couple, and neither made any bones about their disapproval of me living with him. It just so happened Ray’s cousin was a handyman who specialized in renos and was willing to give me a friends-and-family discount. In that regard, I was set. I just had to figure outwhatI needed him to do and where to begin.

“You’re doing better than me already.” He drummed his fingers on the cart handle. “All right, Kit—I can call you Kit, right? Elliot has dibs on Catherine, doesn’t he?”

I laughed. “Yes, I guess he does. He’s the only one who calls me that.”

“I bet he likes that.” Miles picked up Joey’s hand and let her play with his pointer finger. “I’m going to create a plan for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but Saoirse and I started a business consulting firm. We create business strategies for start-ups—which is a synonym for plans. Plans are my bread and butter.” He smoothed a hand down his chest. “I’m amazing at seeing the big picture and how everything will fall into place.”

“Not to toot your own horn.”

He mimed tooting a horn. “Nah, if I don’t compliment myself, who will? I know what my finer attributes are.”

I smirked. “Definitely not humility.”

“Humility? I don’t know her.” He straightened and gave Joey’s hand a shake. “Are you in or out, Kit? Tell me right now.”

This was an offer I couldn’t turn down, no matter how surprising it was. “I’m in.”

Miles jumped into action, asking to see my house right away. On the drive over, I called Elliot to tell him what was happening. He warned me Miles would most likely suggest I paint my house magenta and install an Olympic-sized hot tub on the roof, and I assured him I wasn’t dumb enough to take suggestions like that.

It didn’t shock me in the least when Elliot showed up half an hour after Miles and I had arrived. We were sitting on my gross couch after touring the room, Miles scribbling on a notebook he’d had in his truck while intermittently asking me questions.

What did surprise me was Luca and Weston following Elliot into the living room. Elliot had skipped the gym last week, too pissed at his closest friends to keep to their routine.

I guessed his friends had gotten tired of waiting for him to come around and waylaid him. From his grumpy frown, he didn’t appreciate it.

At least he softened when he bent down to kiss my forehead. “Where’s Josephine?”

I pointed to the ceiling. “She fell asleep on the drive over, so I put her in her crib in her room.”

Something passed over his expression, but his features quickly smoothed.

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