“I’ll be down in a few.” Dylan headed to the bathroom, taking a fast shower amid an explosion of tub toys overflowing from their bin and four different strawberry shampoos lined up on the side of the tub. When he came down to the kitchen, the girls were both wearing blue T-shirts that advertised their preschool with a smiling stick figure logo and were sitting at the table in the eating nook with waffles and milk.
“Here. Creamer’s in the fridge.” Apollo handed Dylan a steaming coffee mug. Truth was, Dylan didn’t often drink the stuff, favoring a morning protein smoothie, but he didn’t want to give Apollo another reason to slot him into the “kid” category.
Dylan doctored it up with a healthy dose of creamer. “So what’s on the agenda for today? Tomorrow I have a staff meeting to make sure everything’s set for Monday, but today I’m all yours. You’re not working?” He gestured at Apollo’s casual clothing.
“Got leave for today and tomorrow. Today is—”
“Preschool graduation!” Chloe squealed. “We get to wear hats!”
“Can Dylan come?” Sophia chimed in. “Please. Please. Please. We’re singing the happy face song.”
“I’d be happy to,” Dylan said right as Apollo said, “Dylan probably doesn’t want—”
“Please.” Both girls did an adorable pout.
“Seriously, I’d be happy to come. Be an extra pair of hands so you can focus on taking pictures or whatever.”
“Chelsea’s gonna do day camp. So’s Andrew.” Chloe shared in between bites of waffles.
“See. I can meet some of the kids who will be there Monday. It’ll be great.”
“Great,” Apollo echoed with none of Dylan’s certainty. “I guess—”
“Yay!” The girls danced in their chairs.
“I suppose it’s a good chance to show you the car. I’d wanted to see you drive it before Monday.”
“Wait. I’m driving your car this summer? I’ve got mine.” Dylan’s Civic hybrid had been his mother’s first and might have passed the decade mark a few years back, but it was a good little car.
“I didn’t get the top safety-rated SUV for the girls for it to sit in the garage. You’ll take that one. I’m used to switching off with Mom. I’ll take her sedan to work.”
Dylan hadn’t planned on some sort of impromptu driving test, but luckily he did have experience with bigger vehicles thanks to driving the Y vans. However, Apollo was totally the sort of control-freak guy who made a terrible passenger, and Dylan’s stomach gave a little flip as he followed Apollo and the girls to the garage after breakfast.
Apollo strapped the girls into booster seats worthy of a shuttle mission to Mars, then handed Dylan the keys. “You’ll need to adjust the seat and mirrors. I was the last one to drive it.”
Great. He totally needed a reminder of how much taller than him Apollo was. This was why he loved soccer—height didn’t matter as much as his quickness and agility. And it wasn’t like he was that short, but most of the SEALs Dylan had met were well over six feet, with Apollo probably clocking in at six three or four. But he managed to adjust the seat with a minimum of fumbling and blushing and followed Apollo’s directions to a cheery little blue building with a fenced-in playground teeming with kids and their parents. As he’d predicted, Apollo had gritted his teeth with each turn and looked almost nauseated when Dylan parked between two other SUVs.
“Did I pass?” Dylan asked as Apollo unloaded the girls, pocketing his sunglasses. Apollo still wore his, which made him look like even more of a badass than usual.
“Sorry.” Apollo set the girls on the pavement. As soon as they reached the sidewalk, the girls ran ahead, straight through the open gate to the playground. “I know I’m a bit overprotective.”
“You don’t say.” Dylan kept his voice teasing.
“It’s nothing against you though. You should have seen how I was when they first came home from the hospital.”
“I bet. Were they preemies? You guys used a surrogate, yeah?”
“Yes.” Apollo didn’t sound all that willing to talk about this, but he slowed up by the fence instead of joining the clump of other parents under the awning. “We had a great surrogate. And the twins weren’t early—they were right on time, so we were able to bring them home from the hospital after a few days. Man, that first drive.” Apollo shook his head, a fond smile on his face.
“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.”