Page 18 of Stealing Home

Without speaking, CJ carefully placed a whimpering infant on Dom’s chest, and he held her as tightly as he dared, dropping his head to place a quiet kiss on her head.

More silence. In the background, his father said something Dominic couldn’t make out.

“Whose baby?” His mother’s voice was dangerously calm.

“Mine.”

The resulting explosion was loud enough that he pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing as her voice cracked through the speaker like a siren. Next to him, Evan grimaced and pulled a pillow over his face, and CJ stood and moved away.

“Your what?” she demanded. Every syllable was sharp and disbelieving, and her Jersey accent was getting thicker as her volume climbed.

“My baby,” he said, already bracing himself.

“You have a baby?” she shouted. “Dominic, what are you saying to me right now? A baby? You have a baby?”

“Apparently,” he said.

“What does apparently mean?” she snapped. “A person does not ‘apparently’ have a baby, Dominic. This is not like finding an extra pair of shoes in your closet. This is a human being!”

“I didn’t know about her until last night,” he said, trying to keep his tone even despite the chaos pouring through the phone.

Lucia’s face started to crumple, her mouth opening in warning. Dom shifted forward, ready to stand and pace, but CJ appeared beside him with a prepared bottle and held it in front of his face. He mouthed a grateful thank you, then shifted the baby to the crook of his arm, took the bottle, and guided the nipple to her mouth. She latched immediately, her gathering cry dissolving into small, eager swallows. At least one crisis was temporarily under control.

“What do you mean, you didn’t know?”

“What happened? Is he hurt?” His father’s voice grew louder in the background.

Frank Rizzo had spent more than thirty years running his own plumbing business and had the booming voice of a man accustomed to being heard over power tools, running water, and three opinionated sons.

“He has a baby!”

“What?”

Dom heard the sound of a chair being moved, and when his father spoke again, his voice was clear, and Dom knew he was on speaker.

“What do you mean he has a baby?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ma, listen⁠—”

“No. You listen. Who is the mother?”

Dom sighed. “Talia.”

His mother went quiet again. “Talia,” she repeated. “You haven’t spoken to Talia in, what, almost a year?”

“Something like that.”

“And when did she supposedly have your baby?” His mother sounded suspicious. Dom didn’t blame her.

“Three weeks ago.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Evan trying to get his attention and glanced at him.

“Tell them everything,” Evan whispered.

Dom resisted the urge to throw something at him. Because, of course, he was right.

“She came here last night,” he said. “She brought Lucia with her.”

“Lucia?”