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?
“He can have ducky!” Chloe held out one of the flotation toys kept in a bin by the pool.
“Dylan can swim.” Dylan emerged from the house, crossing the small yard to the pool. He wore purple board shorts and a gray nylon shirt that looked better suited for the surfers at the beach. “But can you guys?”
The girls giggled. “Of course, silly.” Chloe danced around Dylan.
“I’ve been working with them since they were babies. They can swim, but never, ever alone—”
“Apollo. I think you can trust me not to toss them in the deep end and walk away.” Dylan let out a long-suffering sigh.
Maybe he was being a bit hard on Dylan. “Sorry.”
The girls scampered down the steps for the shallow end, toys in tow. Not quite ready to get in the water, Apollo lowered himself to the side of the pool, legs in the water, senses on high-alert for the first sign of trouble. He was used to being in charge of a team of men on dives, but that didn’t make him near as nervous as supervising two active kids. Dylan sat next to him, not close enough to touch, but close enough that Apollo was only too aware of him right there.
“Nice ink. You didn’t have that one before.” Dylan gestured at Apollo’s chest.
“Thanks,” Apollo ground out. He hated this motherfucking tattoo like a bad Alanis Morrisette song. He could still remember Neal’s quiet teasing when he got it after the girls were born.
“You’re a sentimental fool, tough guy.” Neal walked around him, inspecting the still-red skin.
“It’s just ink.” Apollo shrugged. He hadn’t been sure exactly what he was getting until he was at his favorite tattoo artist, browsing designs.
“Putting ‘blessed’ in hundred-point font across your pecs definitely qualifies as sentimental. And a bird for each girl? Sorry to say it, but you’re a secret sap.” Neal’s laugh washed over him, familiar and comforting.
“All for you, babe.”
Three years later, Apollo had roared at the mirror the first time he saw the tattoo after Neal died, coming perilously close to shattering the fucking thing. And in the two years since, he hadn’t mellowed any toward the tattoo. Only thing keeping him from getting it lasered off was the girls—didn’t want them thinking he wasn’t happy to have them. But blessed? That ship had sailed the day Neal died.
“So what’s up next? A back piece? Another sleeve?” Dylan was way too chipper. In the pool, the girls were riding their floating ducks and splashing each other.
“Nothing. I’m done with tattoos for good.”
“For good? But you love—” Dylan’s eyes went wide, and his gaze dipped to Apollo’s chest again. “Oh.”
Damn kid was too fucking perceptive. Apollo slid into the water so that Dylan could stop inspecting him. Yeah, once upon a time he’d loved getting new ink. Then once upon a time blew up, and he couldn’t imagine getting back in that chair, getting something permanent and trusting it wouldn’t haunt him.
“Why don’t you have ink if you like it so much?” Apollo sounded like a cranky bear but couldn’t be bothered to try to moderate his tone. He did with everyone else. All day. Every day. And it was just hard. Somehow he just couldn’t seem to put up the same front with Dylan.
Dylan laughed like he either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care about Apollo’s biting tone. He waited until after he’d lowered himself into the water to answer. “Honestly? I’m scared of needles. Also, not all schools and programs look kindly on ink. I want to wait until I’ve got something permanent jobwise. Then I might take the leap. I’ve got an idea for a War Elf-themed one right here.” Dylan pointed at his forearm.
“The needles aren’t such a big deal. And it’s a hell of an adrenaline rush. You’d like that. If you get up the courage, wait until you come back down to visit Dustin. I’ll take you to my guy. He does quality work.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” The smile Dylan gave him made Apollo feel even more like a heel for how he’d been acting much of the day. Dylan tugged his shirt down as it ballooned up in the water.
“What’s up with the shirt? It’s not that sunny out.”