Page 104 of Stealing Home

Dom stared at Gavin’s contact in his phone, then pressed call.

“Hey,” Gavin answered, sounding pleased to hear from him.

Dom knew he was going to ruin the mood as soon as he spoke.

“Talia called me.” The silence on the other end of the line told him he probably should have eased into it. “She says she needs to talk, and she brought the medical history my lawyer’s been asking for. For six months.”

“Okay,” Gavin said. “What else?”

“She asked to see Lucia.” Dom heard his voice wobble as the fear started to grow again.

“Are you going to let her?” Gavin’s voice was steady and calm.

Dom took a couple of deep breaths to try to match him.

“Maybe. I don’t know. My lawyer said it’s okay.” Dom rubbed one hand over his face. “I have some things to say to her, so I told her she could come over at four. I’ll decide about letting her see Lucky after we talk.”

“Do you want me there?”

The question nearly undid him because yes, God, yes. A selfish part of Dom wanted Gavin beside him when he opened the door. He wanted the solid press of Gavin’s hand at his back and the certainty that he would not have to face Talia alone. But there were things Dom needed to say without wondering how ugly they sounded to someone else. Words he had carried since the night she left, and Gavin’s presence might make him swallow half of them, just to prove he was all right.

He rested his forehead against a kitchen cabinet. “I think I need to talk to her on my own.”

“Okay,” Gavin answered without hesitation. “But if that changes, call me.”

“I will.”

“Do you still want me to come by tonight?”

Dom felt his anger toward Talia resurface at the hesitance he heard in Gavin’s words. He took two deep breaths and swallowed it down.

“Yes.” His answer was fast and firm. “I want you here.” Need, his brain substituted.

“I have an estimate at four. I’ll bring dinner after I’m done.” Gavin paused. “Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t decide what she’s going to say before she says it.”

Dom looked at Lucia, kicking her legs and grabbing at the plush toys hanging from the swing, entirely unaware that the woman who had given birth to her had reappeared.

“I’ll try.”

A little after four, Lucia was asleep upstairs, and Dom was standing in the living room waiting. Talia was eleven minutes late, which he only knew because he’d spent those eleven minutes checking the time, then pretending he had not. He had straightened the couch cushions twice, then deliberately moved one out of place because he was angry with himself for caring what she thought of his house.

The doorbell rang before he could decide whether that was any less ridiculous. He glanced at the monitor before going to answer it. Lucia hadn’t moved. He was grateful for that. He needed to hear what Talia had to say before he let her see the baby she had left behind.

She looked different. Her dark hair was shorter, ending just below her jaw instead of falling past her shoulders, and there was color in her face that hadn’t been there the last time he saw her. A canvas tote hung from one shoulder, and she held a thick envelope against her stomach with one hand while the other gripped the bag’s strap. She looked healthier, and Dom hated how relieved he was to see it.

“Hi,” she said.

He stepped back. “Come in.”

Talia entered slowly, her gaze moving over the stroller against the wall, the basket of toys beside the couch, the blanket folded over its arm. “Your house is beautiful. I didn’t think you’d ever leave your apartment.”

“I didn’t think I’d become a single father overnight either.” Dom held her gaze. “Plans change.”

She flinched. “Yeah.” She stopped in front of the bookshelf, looking at the framed photograph of Lucia. “She’s gotten so big.”