Page 38 of Stealing Home

Dom studied him. “You have an answer and a solution for everything, don’t you?”

Gavin looked away, suddenly very interested in the cabinets.

“Not everything.”

The words hung between them for a second before Gavin cleared his throat. He pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and then pushed it closed. It settled with a slow, soft click.

“Everything in here is soft-close now,” he said, slipping back into a more comfortable role. “That way Lucia’s fingers won’t get pinched in the future. You’ll want to add child-proof latches to the bottom cabinets at some point.”

Dom smiled, letting him change the subject. “See. You think of everything.”

“I try.”

He led Dom through the rest of the first floor. Gavin pointed out the things Dom hadn’t seen in the photos: the rebuilt pantry shelves that would actually hold the weight they were designed for. The plumbing leak he’d found hidden behind the laundry room wall before it turned into a much bigger problem. The new lighting in the hallway. Dom asked questions, but every so often, he’d stop talking altogether, running his fingertips over a doorframe or pausing in the middle of a room to take it in.

By the time they stepped through the sliding glass doors onto the deck, the late afternoon had softened into the pinks and purples of sunset. Dom’s attention drifted immediately to the large L-shaped cedar planter tucked into one corner of the deck, and he frowned.

“That definitely wasn’t here before.” He crossed to it, balancing Lucia against one shoulder as he squatted in front of the planter.

Gavin’s cheeks grew hot. “I thought the deck looked a little bare.”

“You built this?” Dom gave him an incredulous smile before he turned back to the plants. His eyebrows climbed higher with every plant he recognized.

“Sweet basil.” His hand moved a few inches. “Genovese basil.” He looked up, laughing. “You planted two types of basil?”

Gavin shrugged. “It felt necessary.”

He wouldn’t admit how much time he’d spent researching what to plant. The herb garden had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it seemed like too much.

Dom kept going. “Rosemary. Oregano. Flat-leaf parsley. Sage.” He rounded the corner. “Thyme. Tomatoes…” His eyes landed on the pepper plant tucked into the back. “And an Italian frying pepper.”

He turned to look at Gavin. “You planted an Italian kitchen.”

“I planted herbs,” Gavin replied.

“You planted my childhood,” Dom said wistfully.

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck. “I overheard your mom talking about cooking. I thought it might come in handy.”

Dominic stood and looked around the backyard before his eyes settled on Gavin and he smiled a little sheepishly. “You did so many things I didn’t know to ask for.”

Gavin frowned. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it.” Dom laughed. “You didn’t have to do any of it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Dom argued. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me. No one’s ever built me something. Thank you.”

Gavin ducked his head in a nod, and they stood there for a quiet moment, then he glanced through the door to the front of the house. “I should probably get out of your way.”

Dominic frowned. “You don’t have to.”

“You’ve got movers coming,” Gavin pointed out. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them moved. Gavin was really good at leaving jobs behind. It was part of the work. You finished, shook hands, collected the check, and drove away. By the next morning, you were somewhere else, solving someone else’s problems. That was how it worked.