Page 29 of Stealing Home

Gavin tilted his head. “Don’t what?”

“That’s Mr. Rizzo,” Dominic said, making a face and pointing at Frank. “Please call me Dominic.”

“Dom,” Celeste corrected. “His friends call him Dom.”

“Dom would be perfect.” He shook his head in faux dismay, and Gavin laughed.

“Got it,” he said. They both laughed, and the sound lingered a beat longer than Gavin expected. Finally, he tucked his notebook under one arm. “I’ll text you if I run into anything.”

“Anytime,” Dom said. “Seriously. If you’ve got questions, text me anytime.”

“I will. Same goes for you.”

Dom looked at his daughter, sleeping peacefully in his father’s arms now. “Do whatever you think is right, even if we didn’t discuss it before.” He looked at Gavin seriously. “Evan trusts you, which means I trust you. Money is no object if it means the house is safer for her.”

Something in Gavin’s chest tightened, and he cleared his throat. “I’ll take good care of it.”

Dominic’s smile returned. “I know you will.”

Until that moment, Gavin hadn’t realized how nervous he was about taking this job. It had been a long time since he’d felt like this, but this job could mean so much for the future of his business. He wasn’t sure if it was the confidence in Dominic’s voice or the way he’d said it, like trusting Gavin had never been a question. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved, and Gavin became acutely aware of how close they were standing. Close enough that he could see flecks of amber in Dom’s eyes. Close enough that he could feel the heat from the other man’s body.

Then Celeste clapped her hands together, the sharp sound echoing in the empty room.

“Well,” she said. Both men looked at her. “If you’re done staring at each other…”

“Ma.” Dominic groaned, running a hand down his face.

“Your father and I are starving.”

Gavin laughed. This family was something else, and it made him miss his parents desperately. He needed to get home for a visit soon.

“I should get going.” He moved toward the front door, and Dominic followed him.

“Thanks for coming out on such short notice,” Dom said. He held his hand out, and Gavin grasped it. “I’ll look for the estimate.”

“You’ll have it tomorrow.”

Gavin slipped out the door and headed toward his truck. As he pulled away, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Dominic was still standing on the porch, watching his truck pull away. Maybe. Maybe he was just enjoying the fresh air before getting a meal with his parents. Gavin refused to speculate.

Besides, there wasn’t anything to read into. Not only would it be a terrible idea to date a client, but Dom had declared he wasn’t dating for the foreseeable future. And Gavin had spent the better part of the last year convincing himself he didn’t want another relationship.

Some people just weren’t available, no matter how strong the attraction.

6

DOM

The alarm on Dom’s phone buzzed at five-thirty, but he’d already been awake for ten minutes. Moving as quietly as possible, he shifted enough to see over the edge of the bed. Next to him, Lucia lay in the crib, staring up at the ceiling with solemn concentration, one tiny fist waving lazily through the air. The motel room was still dim, the heavy curtains blocking most of the Arizona sunrise, but enough light filtered around the edges to paint soft gold stripes across the carpet. It was peaceful, and Dom let that sink in.

For the first week with Lucia, every morning had started with panic. He’d bolt upright, convinced he’d somehow slept through her crying or missed something important. Half the time he’d lean over the crib just to make sure her chest was still rising and falling, unable to convince himself that babies could really sleep that quietly. He’d done some research and purchased one of those baby monitors with a camera and a respiration reader, which had taken his panic down a notch.

He knew better now. Not everything—God, not even close—but enough. Enough to know she wasn’t hungry yet. Hunger came with impatient little squeaks that escalated into full-body outrage if he didn’t move fast enough. This was just Lucia waking up before the rest of the world, content to watch what she could for a little while before she started making her demands.

She turned her head toward him and noticed him looking, and her arms stretched above her head in what had become her version of good morning. A smile spread across his face.

“Morning, Lucky.”

Her legs kicked against the mattress. He’d read somewhere that babies changed almost every day during the first few months. He’d assumed that meant physical changes. No one had mentioned personalities. Somewhere over the last five weeks, she’d stopped feeling like a tiny stranger he’d been entrusted with and started becoming…Lucia. His daughter.