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)
“Hey, pumpkins,” Dylan whispered. He handed Chloe the doll. “Looking for this?”
“Bee Baby!”
“Sssh,” Dylan reminded her. “Did you guys break Baba?”
“Maybe.” Sophia looked far more concerned about this than Chloe. “Think he’ll ever wake up?”
“Yes,” Apollo groaned and hefted himself into a sitting position. “F—fudge. Now I’m covered in carpet lint. But hi. And thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” Dylan tried not to admire Apollo’s bare torso as he made a shooing gesture with his hand. “You go shower the dust off, and I’ll get these ladies to sleep.”
“Good luck with that. You sure?” Apollo hesitated in the doorway.
“Yes. I’m here to help. Now go. We’ve got songs to sing.” Dylan moved next to Sophia’s bed and started in on one of the silly songs he’d made up for them.
A half hour or so later, he crept from their room, sighing at how hoarse his throat was from singing. For two feverish kids, they certainly had resisted rest like champs. He found a glassy-eyed Apollo in the kitchen, staring into the fridge.
“I have no idea whether I’m hungry,” he said as Dylan came into the kitchen. “Man, what a night.”
“You’re hungry.” Dylan shoved him in the direction of the stools at the island separating the kitchen and dining space. “I’ll make you a toasted cheese sandwich. Something that won’t be too awful if you get the bug too.”
“Don’t even think that,” Apollo groaned as Dylan grabbed the bread and cheese from the fridge. “Last thing I need is to get sick. And I mean last thing. My mom’s back tomorrow, but I can’t afford any sick time, not with work the way it is right now.”
“Is it still crazy? Any news on the injured SEALs?” Dylan placed a skillet on the stove to preheat while he made the sandwich.
“Not much I can tell you, sorry, but the doctors think they are all going to make it, which is good. Our investigation will be ongoing for some time.”
“All the more reason to let me help you tonight. And I can pick up your mother if necessary,” he offered, even though that was likely to be an awkward dance of avoiding revealing what had happened during her absence.
“I might need to take you up on that.” Apollo rubbed at his eyes. “Hate needing help.”
“I know.” Dylan put the sandwich in the pan and crossed to stand behind Apollo. “But sometimes we all need help.”
Unable to resist the need to help ease the man’s utter exhaustion, he started rubbing Apollo’s shoulders. Instead of squirming away as he’d expected, Apollo leaned into the touch, rolling his back muscles.
“God, that feels good.” Apollo tipped his head back. “Thank you.”
There was a world of meanings behind that look and those words, and Dylan wasn’t sure he was up to unpacking them all. One of Apollo’s hands snaked up to touch Dylan’s jaw and he was lost, unable to reason beyond dipping his head and brushing his lips over Apollo’s.
The kiss was more ravenous than sweet, like they’d both been starving all week and this was the first crumb they’d uncovered. Apollo’s hands held him close even as he shifted so the angle was less back breaking. The kiss was everything he’d been craving—catharsis for a week of worry and uncertainty.
“Stay—”
Beep. Beep. The smoke alarm trilled, and Dylan became aware of the smell of burning bread and cheese.
“Fuck. The sandwich.” He raced to the stove, but it was too late for the sandwich. And them. And he’d known that even before the kiss, but the acrid smoke in the air was potent reminder that they couldn’t do this.
“Can’t do that again,” he muttered as he slapped together a fresh sandwich.
“Burn it?” Apollo sounded slightly dazed.
“That too.” Dylan stood guard over the sandwich, grateful for the buffer of the counter between him and Apollo. “But the kiss. Staying. We can’t be doing that.”
“We can’t.” Apollo’s tone was mournful, but Dylan couldn’t tell whether he was agreeing or questioning him.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking this week. A lot. And—”
“Me too. And I need to apologize to you. I was rude and angry and I’m sorry for that.”
But not for what matters. Dylan’s heart sank even as his resolve strengthened. This was what needed to happen, painful as it was. “And that’s why we can’t do the kissing thing again. We can’t slide back into what we had before.” He flipped the sandwich over with a decisive thwunk of the spatula.
“My mom’s back tomorrow. It’s just tonight...” Apollo sighed as if he already knew Dylan’s retort.
“Exactly. It’s just tonight. Trust me, I’d love to come over there and kiss you more, make you feel better after the shit week you’ve had, but one of us has to think about tomorrow. And Dustin’s back—”
“Dustin’s back?” The fear in Apollo’s voice would be laughable if it didn’t hurt so damn much.