“Let me guess. You did twenty-five all the way back to the house.”
“Pretty close.” Apollo laughed. “It was all kind of a whirlwind back then—DADT got repealed, we got married, got matched with a surrogate faster than I’d ever thought possible, and closed on the house shortly before the girls came. I remember feeling like a tornado had hit me when I looked back in the rearview and saw the two car seats. You’ll see someday—life goes from ‘gee this might be fun’ to ‘sh—crap just got real’ in an instant.”
Dylan laughed even though he didn’t really care for Apollo’s “oh woe is me, so ancient and old” tone. Sure Apollo had some years on him, but he didn’t need to go handing advice out like he was eighty. “I like real,” he said instead. “I’ve never been wild like you and Dustin were.”
“We weren’t wild.” Apollo’s chuckle resonated all the way to Dylan’s feet—there was a certain power in making this guy loosen up and let go.
“Liar.”
“Apollo! How are you?” A woman with wild red hair and a toddler on her hip came over.
“I’m good, Bridget. Tyler all ready for graduation?”
“He was up at six with his T-shirt on.” She laughed and gestured at a small boy with red curls playing with the twins. “And who’s this with you?” Bridget was clearly one of those women who didn’t feel the need to hide her curiosity.
“This is Dylan. He’s...” Apollo’s jaw muscle jumped. “He’s going to be helping me with the girls this summer.”
“Oh that’s fabulous. I hope your mom has the best time on her trip,” Bridget enthused, bouncing the toddler from side to side as she grinned at Apollo before turning to Dylan. “Let me know if you need any extra hours. My husband and I have been looking to go on a date night. Bet I could borrow you.”
Great. Dylan hadn’t really expected Apollo to introduce him as anything other than the babysitter, although friend might have been nice. Something about how Bridget said it, though, made him feel about fourteen and still earning five bucks an hour on a Friday night.
“I’m also the assistant director of the Presidio day camp, the one over by the park.” Dylan felt the need to assert that he wasn’t some freeloader.
“Oh that’s excellent. Mary’s Andrew will be going there too. Here, let me introduce you.”
And so Dylan found himself introduced to a number of parents as “Apollo’s new babysitter.” He tried to smile and nod and keep up with the names, especially the ones who would be campers with the program he worked for.
Finally, the teachers rounded up the kids for “graduation” and all the parents took seats in the classroom. Rather than take one of the kid-size chairs, Apollo stood near the back of the room, so Dylan joined him. The kids paraded in wearing paper hats, all the parents whipping out cell phones and cameras to record the event. Next to him, Apollo swallowed hard, and Dylan could practically feel Apollo’s tension increasing. Apollo’s cell phone shook as he held it out.
Neal. He’s missing Neal. Dylan’s throat tightened.
“Here, let me do the filming,” Dylan whispered and plucked the phone from his grasp. In front of them, a mom wiped tears from her eyes and several parents kept clearing their throats. Dylan was completely used to sentimental parents at events like this, and he tried to shoot Apollo a reassuring glance.
“Baba!” Chloe called from her place at the front of the room. That made the big guy smile, and he waved at her. And Dylan’s heart might have given a little twinge. No more crushes, remember?
“They look so big,” Apollo whispered to Dylan. It was kinda cute, the way he kept looking away and sighing during the slideshow about the events of the year. He knew Apollo would insist up and down that he wasn’t the least bit emotional, but he so was. Big, tough SEAL was totally in love with his little girls. They bounded up to Apollo and Dylan as soon as the program was done.
“Baba, I sang loud for you,” Chloe announced.
“I heard.” Apollo scooped her up. “Now, should we get home? Get you guys down for your nap—”
“Baba! Naps are for babies.” Sophia shook her hair.
“We want to swim!” Chloe clapped her hands. “Please? Can we show Dylan our pool?”
Dylan nodded, trying not to look too enthusiastic about the possibility of ogling a shirtless Apollo. Then he remembered Apollo’s disturbed reaction to his own chest and resolved to dig a rash guard shirt out of his stuff. If there was any ogling about to happen, it was surely a one-way street. Darn it.
* * *
“Baba? What if Dylan can’t swim?” Sophia asked, all serious as Apollo straightened her goggles. Apollo blinked, trying to keep up—getting the girls suited up to swim, and recovering from the preschool graduation. Not that he was emotional. Not even a little bit. Gonna blame allergies again?