Page 25 of Stealing Home

“Guilty.”

“Dominic Rizzo,” he said, holding out his hand. “Evan said you were good.”

Gavin smiled. “I hope I live up to the recommendation.” The younger man’s grip was firm, warm, and calloused, which wasn’t surprising. Even if he’d never swung a hammer professionally, baseball left its own marks.

“You repainted his condo.” The baby cooed, and Dominic shifted her on his chest.

“And managed to survive three straight days of him insisting every white paint sample looked different.”

“They did,” Dominic said with complete seriousness.

Gavin laughed. “I knew somebody had to be encouraging him.”

Dominic grinned.

Christ. He had a dangerous smile. Gavin looked away before he got caught staring.

The baby chose that exact moment to yawn, and a squeak so tiny it seemed physically impossible came out of her mouth. Gavin’s heart immediately melted.

“And this is Lucia,” Dominic said, looking down with unmistakable pride. He turned slightly so Gavin could see her face. “But we all call her Lucky.”

Lucia blinked enormous dark eyes at him. Tiny fingers escaped the blanket wrapped around her and stretched toward absolutely nothing.

“She’s…” Gavin stopped himself before saying beautiful. Instead, he settled on, “She’s really little.”

“She’s only five weeks old,” Dominic explained. “I’ve only known her for two of those weeks, so we’re still getting to know each other.”

Gavin looked back at him in surprise. A five-week-old baby that he’d only known for two weeks? There was a story there, and for half a second, he wondered if he would get to hear it someday. He shook his head to clear that weird thought. But Jesus. A five-week-old unexpected baby, and he bought a house, and he was planning a full renovation to take place while he was away at spring training? No wonder the guy looked exhausted.

Lucia made another tiny sound, and without thinking, Gavin smiled at her. She stared at him with a solemn concentration, like she was evaluating him to see if he was worth remembering. He found himself hoping the answer was yes, and the thought unsettled him.

“Come on,” Dominic said, tilting his head toward the rest of the house. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Dominic headed back into the hallway, and Gavin fell into step behind him, their footsteps echoing. He hadn’t looked into the front rooms yet, but he was expecting the usual obstacles. Furniture shoved into corners and stacks of unopened boxes, always with the expectation that he could just work around everything. Instead, the house was so empty it echoed. He stopped dead as they entered the living room. There wasn’t a single piece of real furniture in sight. Just two faded camping chairs and a small folding table with a travel coffee mug, a pack of diapers, and an open notebook. That was it.

Gavin looked at Dominic, who seemed to read the question on his face before Gavin asked it.

“I figured it would be easier if I waited to move in,” he said. He shrugged, then rubbed the back of his neck. “If all my stuff’s in here, you’re working around boxes and furniture for six weeks. This way you can make as much of a mess as you need.”

That was unexpectedly thoughtful. “I appreciate that.”

Dominic opened his mouth to speak, snapping it shut at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“Dominic, give me baby girl,” she said as she entered the room, holding her arms out with the complete confidence of someone who wasn’t often disobeyed. “That way you can give Gavin the tour without your arms being full.”

Dominic rolled his eyes, then shifted Lucia into Celeste’s waiting arms. The baby barely stirred, nestling against her grandmother’s shoulder with a sleepy trust. Celeste’s eyes drifted to Gavin, and he smiled at her. She grinned back before returning her eyes to Dominic. Her eyebrows lifted just slightly, and she tipped her chin almost imperceptibly toward him before looking meaningfully back at her son.

Gavin stifled a laugh. Really? He turned to the windows to give them a pretense of privacy. It was amazing what people would discuss in front of the hired help.

Dominic caught on to what she was doing and his shoulders sagged. “Ma,” he warned under his breath.

“What?” Her tone was innocent, but her face said she was anything but. “He likes men,” she whispered. Or at least attempted to.

“Stop it.”

She leaned forward, careful not to jostle Lucia. “You said you were becoming a monk. Thought I’d point out why that is a bad idea.”

Gavin raised his eyebrows.