Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
After finishing the cleanup with Allie, he had her look over his cover letter. With all the resumés he’d been sending out, he had everything ready to go, and he hit Send before the doubt crows fluttering in his stomach could stop him.
Back at the house, he walked into the heady aroma of tomatoes and cheese and the happy sound of the girls playing in the living room. He snuck by them and headed to the kitchen where Apollo was chopping vegetables for a salad. In the oven, a casserole bubbled away.
“Just in time.” Apollo had changed from his uniform into shorts and a T-shirt, and his long feet were bare. Why the contrast between Apollo-the-dad and Apollo-the-lieutenant turned him on so much he had no idea. Bare feet and ropey forearms sticking out of faded T-shirts shouldn’t be a kink for him, but they totally turned his crank.
“Smells great.” Dylan tried to cover his blatant ogling of Apollo by sniffing the air.
“Yeah.” Apollo gave Dylan a tight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Dylan crossed the kitchen in quick strides to come stand beside him behind the island.
“Nothing.” Apollo shrugged, then winced.
“Your back again?” Dylan cast a glance at the empty doorway before putting his hands on Apollo’s shoulders and starting a deep rub.
“No. Ahhh—” Apollo groaned as he leaned into the touch. “I mean no more than usual.”
“Which means it’s still bad, but you’re being stubborn. Made that doctor’s appointment yet?” Dylan dug his fingers into a knot of muscles at the back of Apollo’s neck.
“Nothing they can tell me that I don’t already know,” Apollo huffed. “They’re going to mention another surgery and no way in fuck am I going that route.”
“You need to at least think about it.” This would be the perfect moment to tell Apollo about the job, tell him that he could stick around and help in the fall if Apollo had the surgery, but somehow the words refused to reach his lips.
“Baba! I’m packing!” Chloe rushed into the kitchen dragging a backpack, making Dylan quickly drop his hands.
“I said I would pack,” Apollo said sternly.
“But I can’t find Bee Baby,” she whined. “What if you forget her?”
“We’ll find her after dinner. Right now, go wash your hands and tell your sister to do that too.” Apollo turned away to remove the casserole from the oven.
“The doll’s in the bathroom on the magazine rack,” Dylan offered as Chloe scampered away. “Where are they going?”
“Oh didn’t I tell you? They’re going to Disney this weekend with Pat and Marilyn.” Apollo said the words offhand but they stung like mosquitoes. Fine. If Apollo couldn’t think to tell him when something big was happening with the girls, Dylan wasn’t going to feel one lick of guilt over not telling him about the job application.
“That’s nice.” Dylan kept his voice as neutral as Apollo’s. After all he couldn’t really think his opinion mattered one way or another to Apollo. You’re just the help, he reminded himself. “You working?”
“Part of it.” The tips of Apollo’s ears colored. “I need to keep my mind off them.”
Dylan had a few ideas about how he could fill his time, but seeing as how he hadn’t been consulted, all he said was, “They’ll be fine.”
“I know.” Apollo sighed heavily. “It’s like my brain just won’t shut up—what if Sophia doesn’t eat or Chloe gets scared or the car breaks down? And I’ve got no idea why I’m unloading all this on you.”
“It’s okay.” Dylan resumed his massage of Apollo’s shoulders, unable to stay irked in the face of Apollo’s obvious worry. “You’re a dad. It’s your job to worry, but sometimes you have to let them go.”
“Thanks.” Apollo relaxed further into Dylan’s grip. God, Dylan loved watching this tightly wound man unkink, even a little. Apollo’s voice was huskier when he spoke next. “You’re ridiculously good at that you know?”
“Massage?” Dylan’s lips were millimeters from Apollo’s skin, and the urge to trace the tendons in his neck with his tongue was almost overwhelming. Heat gathered in his groin and for the first time he was aware of just how close they were standing.
“That too, but I was going to say calming me down.” Apollo spun, trapping Dylan against the fridge. His eyes were dark with an intent Dylan had only seen a handful of times. A shiver raced up his spine. “Maybe—”
“Baba! Where’s the food?” The girls rushed back into the room. Damn. He’d been so sure he was about to get kissed or propositioned or both. But instead he ducked under Apollo’s arm and grabbed the girls’ plates.
“Sorry,” Apollo said in a low voice. “Later... Or maybe tomorrow? After I drop them off?”
“Later,” Dylan echoed as all his good reasons for avoiding Apollo crumbled under the force of the promise of that word. Later they’d hook up. Later there would be all the messy complications they both wanted to avoid. Later he’d tell Apollo about the job. Later this thing would inevitably end. Later would be the time for regrets, but right now there was hot food to eat and a weekend to anticipate. Later could wait.