“It’s the perfect solution. Dylan will help out when you have to work late, and he can take the girls to day camp with him during the day. They’ll love the rec center camp, you’ll see.”
“I’m not sure they’re old enough—”
“They’re going to be in kindergarten in the fall. Trust me, being around other kids instead of just a babysitter will be great for them.”
Like Apollo needed another reminder that time was marching on. How were the babies almost kindergarteners? “And you know this how, bachelor of the decade?”
“My sisters all have kids. And Dylan’s always spouting all that early childhood psychology stuff too.”
Dylan, little Dylan, taking psychology classes was something Apollo still couldn’t wrap his head around. “I don’t think I could have someone around the girls, sight unseen—”
“I knew you’d say that. He’s on his way over.”
“He’s what?” Back be damned, Apollo leaped off the chair. Was he going to have to deal with this today? “Isn’t he in Oregon?”
“Relax. He was in town for the day camp job interview, decided to stay a few extra days. I told him to stop by after I had a chance to work on you.”
“That’s awfully presumptuous of you.” Apollo glared down at Dustin who responded by hefting himself out the chair.
“I know you.” Dustin met him glare for glare, close to two decades of friendship between them. He was the only one in the world Apollo would let get away with crap like this. “And if you let yourself slow down and think about this, you’ll see that it’s the perfect solution for everyone.”
Apollo didn’t believe in perfect, not anymore. He looked away, trying to find the right words to tell Dustin that his guest room was not a La Quinta for recent grads, even beloved brothers of best friends.
“This would mean a lot to me.” Dustin leaned in. “Look, we both know that my team’s due to go wheels up any time now, and the kid took this job because I’m here. If I knew you were looking out for him—”
“Is the grill ready?” Apollo’s mother bustled out onto the patio with a huge tray of food. “And Dustin, your brother’s here. The girls already claimed him. We might want to rescue him eventually.”
“Excellent.” Dustin shot Apollo a look, one that clearly said, see, your kids like him. And he’d had to go making it out like Apollo would be doing him a favor. Because Apollo couldn’t say no to that, not after all the times Dustin had had his back when it mattered most.
“Help! I’ve been captured!” A husky laugh echoed across the yard as a guy emerged through the sliding glass door, one twin under each arm.
Apollo had to blink, because there, wearing a tiara and a much-too-small cape, was perfect butt guy from the store. Because of course it was. Such was Apollo’s luck lately.
“Dylan?” he managed to ask. Not like there was much doubt, but a stubborn part of him didn’t want to admit how badly he was fucked. He couldn’t say no to Dustin, but he also couldn’t spend a summer contending with that.
“What’s up, Apollo?” Dylan flashed him a grin full of dimples and mischief. Yeah, that was all kinds of trouble, and Apollo had no room for trouble.
Chapter Two
Dylan set the girls down so he could shake Apollo’s hand. They really were adorable kids—heart-shaped faces and long dark hair in pigtails. He watched Apollo’s face carefully, waiting to see if he’d confess to Dustin that they’d run into each other earlier in the day. But as usual, Apollo’s stony facade gave nothing away.
“Good to see you again, kid.” Apollo gave him a quick handshake, the kind a politician might offer, and not one worthy of an old friend. Which was only right, since Apollo had always been Dustin’s best friend, not Dylan’s. Still, the cursory greeting stung a bit, but not quite as much as the kid. Dylan yanked off the tiara and cape and set them on the picnic table.
“I brought your beer,” Dylan said to Dustin. “And some cookies.” He said the last bit looking directly at Apollo. Yeah, I saw you looking at my ass. And you liked what you saw. Kid, my foot. He wasn’t vain, but he’d put on fifty pounds of muscle since Apollo saw him last, and four years of varsity soccer at U of O had honed those muscles into something other people seem to appreciate. Including Lieutenant Hard-to-Please.
He honestly hadn’t been sure whether it was Apollo at first glance—gone was Apollo’s shaggy black hair of eight years ago, replaced by a close cut, and his olive skin seemed paler, with a hint of beard shadow replacing a perennially scruffy jaw. His hazel eyes didn’t twinkle like they once had, instead were haunted by shadows that made him look older than thirty-four. But he had the same scrollwork biceps tat and same killer glower on his rugged face. No one did vaguely pissed-off sexier than Apollo Floros.
Dylan still remembered his first glimpse of Apollo in a picture Dustin had sent home of him and some buddies on a beach. Apollo had stood out even then, all muscles and tats and bad-boy grin, and then Dustin had brought him home on leave on a motorcycle trip. And God, if Dylan hadn’t already been sure he was gay, the sight of Apollo on that bike would have done it.
Boom. Insta-crush. Not to mention the way Apollo had had of talking to him like he was on the same level.
“Really? You’ve never had a boyfriend?”
“I didn’t say that.” Apollo’s chuckle did funny things to Dylan’s insides. “Trust me, I have plenty of fun. Just said I’ve never met that one guy yet, you know?”
Yeah, Dylan knew because he’d just met him. That one guy who was perfect for him, and all he could think was, “Please let it be me. Please let it be me. Please let him wait.”
That wish had carried him through two more years of hopeless adoration, right up until six years ago when Dustin told him that the impossible had happened, and the wild SEAL Dylan had lusted for was getting married. Married.
“Play! Play!” The girls danced around Dylan, tugging at his hands, and interrupting his thoughts.
“Sophia. Chloe. Can you pick up your toys? We’ll be eating soon.” Apollo pointed at the toys scattered around the patio. When he’d arrived at the house, Dylan had been totally thrown by the familial perfection of Apollo’s life. A remodeled two-story craftsman-style house on a small street full of other well-kept older homes of various styles. Exceptionally neat backyard other than the plastic toys—expansive brick patio giving way to a small section of grass and perfectly edged plantings. A fenced-off pool and hot tub beckoned on the far side of the patio.
“Yes, Baba.” Sophia, the more serious of the twins, the one with brown eyes and straight hair, answered him while the other one who had blue eyes and curlier hair spun in circles. Now, wasn’t that a kick. Apollo, sex god on wheels, a dad.
“I’m going inside to grab a beer,” Dustin announced. “Anyone else need a drink?”
“Nah.” Apollo turned back to the grill, his mother still holding the big tray of food for him.
“Here, Mrs. Floros. Let me hold that,” Dylan took the food and her place next to the grill. “You sit.”
“Oh, I won’t sit.” The older woman laughed. Clad in capris and a T-shirt, hair still as dark as Apollo’s, she looked too young to be a grandmother. “There’s plenty of other stuff for me to do. There’s more food back in the kitchen, but I’ll let you guys get this on the grill first.”
“Thanks.” Apollo barely glanced at Dylan’s face before starting to unload meat from the tray onto the grill. The grill was a huge stainless steel affair, one that looked up to the task of feeding a whole SEAL team instead of just a few friends. “I really need to get a prep table out here.”
“Oh, I’m happy to help.” Dylan used the excuse of helpfulness to step closer and lower his voice. “So why didn’t you tell Dustin you saw me earlier at the store?”
“Didn’t seem relevant.” Apollo made neat lines of bur
gers and sausages. “But why didn’t you say something to me at the store? Let me know who you were?”
Dylan laughed. “Dude. After ogling my ass, you hightailed out of there. I figured I’d give you time to overcome your embarrassment—”
“I don’t do embarrassed,” Apollo said firmly. “And I wasn’t checking you out.”
“Liar.” Dylan was not letting this slide. He’d waited eight years for Apollo to see him as more than Dustin’s pesky little brother, and he was going to bask in the warmth of that heated look in the bakery aisle. It wasn’t like it meant anything, but damn it was nice to be seen. “Anyway, I tried to speak a couple of times but you kept acting like you were auditioning for NASCAR, trying to get away from me.”
“I was in a hurry.” Apollo’s voice was gruff. And he was lying. Dylan could tell by the twitch in his right eye, something Dustin had pointed out when the three of them played cards all those years ago. “Sorry. Guess I should have recognized you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Dylan grinned at him when Apollo finally looked over at him again. “At fifteen I was a scrawny thing with pimples who had never had a good haircut. I’ve put a lot of work into being different.”
“This isn’t going to work,” Apollo muttered as he took the last few meat patties and added them to the grill.
Dylan struggled to catch up. “Uh?”
“This crazy idea Dustin has of you staying here this summer. Not going to work.”
“Why not?” Despite the empty tray, Dylan didn’t move away, instead holding his ground in the face of Apollo’s massive frown. “You need help, right? Look, I’m really sorry about Neal. I should have said that first. I helped Mom pick out the flowers—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Apollo held up a hand. His eyes were dark puddles of grief. Fuck. How could Dylan have forgotten even for a moment about Apollo’s dead husband, gone two years now? “And we manage fine.”
Chloe spun herself closer to the grill. Working on instinct, Dylan dropped the tray and caught her mid-spin, hands colliding with Apollo’s as they both steadied the girl.
“Chloe! What have I told you about safety out here?” Apollo had the whole stern “dad voice” thing down.
“Sorry, Baba.” Chloe looped her skinny arms around Apollo’s neck as he lifted her away from Dylan. The way the girls called Apollo the Greek diminutive for father was cute as hell, and it made Dylan want to smile whenever he heard it. “I heard Ya-Ya say that Mister Dylan might be staying here when she goes away. Can he? Please? He plays tea party good!”
“Whoa. Slow down.” Apollo pressed a kiss on her head before straightening her hair. “Take a breath. Were you eavesdropping again?”
“Maybe.” She grinned up at her father who smiled back, and Dylan’s chest tightened. This was a side to Apollo he hadn’t been prepared for seeing.
“Well, why don’t you leave the arrangements for Ya-Ya’s trip to the big people? Now, finish cleaning.” Apollo set her down gently and patted her on the head.
“I don’t just play tea party, you know,” Dylan said to Apollo as the girl ran off to join her sister. “I’ve got a dual degree in early childhood education and physical education. I’m certified in first aid and CPR, and I’ve got references from the childcare center on campus as well as the Y that I worked at for four years.”
“That’s...impressive,” Apollo said slowly.
“Damn right it is.” Dustin came back onto the patio, holding two beers in one hand and a vegetable tray in the other. He set the tray down on the picnic table then rubbed Dylan’s head like he was still ten. Someday, someday, he’d convince his brother that he really was a fully functioning adult, but today didn’t appear to be that day.
“Come on,” Dustin turned back toward Apollo. “You guys need each other. It’s a match made in heaven.”
Dylan had waited years to hear that sentence leave his brother’s mouth, but he could have done without Apollo’s answering snort. But then Apollo uttered the magic word, “Maybe.”
Maybe was all Dylan needed. Just a shot to show Apollo and Dustin that he wasn’t some kid anymore.
* * *
“See, ‘maybe’ is great.” Dustin clapped Apollo on the shoulder and handed him a beer. Dustin didn’t often come across as condescending, unlike a lot of people in Apollo’s life who seemed to think that grief had whittled thirty points off his IQ, but right then, Dustin was totally skirting the line between best friend and annoying cheerleader. “Just think about it.”
“I’ll see,” Apollo allowed and Dylan smiled. He had full lips and when his mouth curved, his whole face transformed, joy and hope practically radiating from those sparkling blue eyes. Man, the hope part was hard to take. Apollo’s back stiffened. It didn’t matter what Dustin said, Dylan had no good reason for wanting to spend the summer with Apollo and the girls, and that old crush was bound to cause trouble when Dylan finally realized that Apollo was a grumpy old bastard now. And whatever patience Apollo had had for the hero worship eight years ago was long gone.
“Sorry we’re late!” The sliding glass door to the house opened as a group of four of Apollo’s friends came out onto the patio. Today was a relatively small gathering—often his barbecues would be filled with his teammates and their spouses and kids. But he didn’t exactly have a team anymore, not with his assignment to SEAL training, and like with Bridget at the store, most of his friends could be counted on for sympathetic smiles and well-meaning platitudes. It was easier to stick to his closest friends, the ones who knew better than to bring up Neal.
“We lost track of time.” Zack’s shit-eating grin left no mistake about exactly what had delayed them. His red-haired boyfriend at least had the grace to blush, but Pike didn’t look too repentant in the slightest as he set what looked like a bowl of potato salad on the table.
“I don’t want to leave bed. Not ever.” Neal’s voice echoed in Apollo’s mind. So many lazy weekend mornings before kids, forgetting to eat until well past noon. They’d been the ones always late once upon a time, every bit as sappy and in love as Zack and Pike. Apollo’s stomach clenched and he had to look away.
“We don’t have that excuse.” Ben’s hearty laugh echoed as he and Maddox joined the group. “This one wanted to bake muffins for y’all. Took two batches.”
“Hey! I said not to say anything about that.” Maddox set down a tray filled with some sort of fruity muffins. Maddox’s soft voice completely belied the fact that this was one of the Navy’s best snipers. Baking muffins, indeed. Even Apollo had to chuckle at that. “Perfection takes time. That’s all.”
“It’s muffins, not the Mona Lisa.” Ben shook his head. Thank God, those roommates didn’t have the domestic bliss of Pike and Zack. Ben was still smarting from a divorce and Maddox was...well, Maddox.
“Hey, hold up. We’re being rude,” Maddox waved in the direction of Dylan. “Who’s the new guy?”
“Oh hello.” Ben got about ninety degrees more charming, flashing a smile and extending a hand to Dylan as he took it on himself to introduce the group.
“Who needs drinks?” Dustin asked after the introductions were done.
“Me.” Pike followed Dustin back into the house, Zack trailing along like he couldn’t stand being separated from his boyfriend even for a beer run.
“I’m going to see if your mom needs help.” Maddox gave Apollo a nod and Dylan a smile that while far more subtle, was no less interested than the ones Ben had been flashing around. Fuck.
“Dylan. Come see!” Chloe wandered over from doing somersaults on the grass, tugging Dylan away to see her and Sophia do a “show,” which was their favorite game, thanks to his mom’s love of reality music and talent shows.
Apollo went to the grill to check the meat, but Ben followed, keeping his voice low. “Remind me to thank Dustin. Profusely.”
“I think he’d call you out if you go there,” Apollo said mildly even as his jaw tightened.
“But the kid does play on our team, right? I’m not wrong there?”
“You’d have to ask him,” Apollo hedged, even though he knew from Dustin that Dylan was out to his family and active in LGBTQ groups.
“Oh I plan to.” Ben’s voice was only too eager.
“And don’t forget the kid part,” Apollo warned.
“Oh he’s not that young.” Ben gave Apollo a knowing smile. He was only a couple of years younger than Apollo, but ever since his divorce, he’d had a taste for subby young things. And no way was Apollo going to think of Dylan in that light or question whether his tastes ran in that direction. Maybe the kid was a top for all they knew...
Nope. Don’t go there. Yeah. Not ever thinking about sex and Dylan in the same thought bubble.
Laughter carried across the yard, where instead of simply watching the girls Dylan had been talked into joining in some silly dance that had all three of them laughing.
He’s really good with them. Since Apollo was the only one of the group with kids, his friends usually didn’t know what to do with the girls—alternating between ignoring them and good-natured indulgence. But Dylan got right in there and played, something Apollo himself struggled with.
Even Neal had been a quiet soul, not one for loud playing, but so full of love and compassion... Apollo pushed that thought aside because dwelling on what an amazing dad Neal had been inevitability led to a wave of fresh amputation-level pain.
The others came back, bearing more food and plates. His mother arranged everything in a buffet line, instructing the guys where to find extra chairs and rounding up the kids. Apollo loaded the finished meat onto a fresh platter and added it to the table.
Dylan ended up sitting between Maddox and Ben, because of course he did, but at least Dustin was sitting close enough that Apollo didn’t feel the need to go police what was sure to be some flirting worthy of the movies his mother favored. And besides, Apollo was occupied cutting up meat for the girls and arranging their plates the way they liked them—nothing touching and a big pool of ketchup in the center.
At Attention Page 2