Whip It Out (DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female.) Book 3)

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Whip It Out (DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female.) Book 3) Page 12

by Kat Addams


  “YouTube! Duh!” Maisy laughed, hopping out of bed. “Come on. Get up! Let’s get going!” She patted her palms against the side of the bed as if she were playing the drums.

  If there was one thing my daughter didn’t lack, it was energy. She woke up energized, she went to bed energized, and when given any form of sugar, she drained my very soul. Which was the exact version of Maisy I needed Betty to see so that I could determine how well she handled my daughter. If she could handle Maisy at her worst, letting Betty into our lives would be a piece of cake. This test would seal the deal on my confession of love—or not.

  “Ugh. I’m an old man. I can’t just hop out of bed like you.” I groaned, rolling off the bed and landing on my feet with a ta-da.

  “Okay, boomer!” she said, running off.

  I shook my head and made a mental note to limit her iPad time on YouTube.

  When I was finally dressed, I made my way to the kitchen, seeing she had already poured us bowls of cereal. Mine had turned into a soggy mess of what looked like sawdust, but I sat down in front of my bowl and ate it anyway.

  “Took you long enough! This is my third bowl!” she said, pointing toward her breakfast. “I made you coffee, too, but I think it might be cold now.”

  “I see,” I said, picking up a muddied cup of brown water and sipping it without wincing. “You’re quite the lady of the house these days! Thanks, darling.” I swallowed my cereal one mushy spoonful at a time.

  Maisy had already dressed too. She wore a fuzzy white sweater with a fox print on it—her favorite animal—and a pair of sparkly pink leggings. Thankfully, Maria had done all of the shopping. But now, with her gone and my on-call babysitters starting back up with school, I’d need to take Maisy shopping for her fall wardrobe.

  “Hey. I haven’t told you this yet, but remember Miss Betty?”

  Maisy stopped chewing and slowly nodded her head. Her hair flew out from around her face, framing it in a chaotic mess of curls, much like Betty’s. Except Maisy’s chaos wasn’t intentional. Brushing her hair was like pulling teeth—a dreaded ordeal I had to battle every morning.

  “She’s going to join us for some fun today. Is that okay with you?” I dipped my head, trying to read her gaze, which had fallen back down to her cereal bowl.

  “Because you love her?” she whispered.

  “What? No!”

  “Do you love her more than me? Does she have kids? Will you love them more? I want a brother or sister. But I’d rather have a puppy.” She put her spoon down and took a sip of water, waiting on my response.

  “I’ll never love anyone more than I do you. You don’t ever have to worry about that. No, Miss Betty doesn’t have kids. If you aren’t comfortable with her coming for our outing, she doesn’t have to. You’re my number one priority. This day is for you,” I said, preparing myself for the fallout of canceling on Betty.

  “No way! I want her to come. I like her. She told me to kick boys in the quaffle balls. And guess what. I don’t even have to do that! I just have to threaten it!”

  I rubbed my palms over my face, shaking out both exhaustion and disbelief.

  “Did someone try to bully you again?” The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

  I was usually an easygoing man. But one slight to my daughter, and I became daddy bull. Or daddy bear. Whatever was the male equivalent of a dad about to go on an ass-kicking spree.

  “No. No one messes with me. This boy at recess kept following me everywhere, so I told him that, and he finally left me alone.”

  “Maybe he just wanted a friend, Maisy.” I squirmed in my seat. The thought of my child becoming the bully terrified me.

  “No. He wasn’t following me like that. He was following me to annoy me. Making loud animal noises and sticking his tongue out behind my back. I told him he did not have my consent to be in my personal space, and if he didn’t stop getting too close, I’d kick him in the quaffle balls. That’s when he left me alone.”

  I stuck out my hand for a high five. She slapped her tiny palm against it hard and beamed back at me.

  “Proud of you, kiddo. You tell people when they’re making you uncomfortable. But let’s leave the violence as a last resort. And only if you’re defending yourself against an attack, okay? Then, you kick the hell out of his quaffle balls and run!” I hugged her before getting up to put our dishes away.

  I’d need to call the school and tell them to watch the students better at recess time. For the price I paid for my daughter to attend there, each child should come with a damn bodyguard.

  “So, about this Miss Betty. Is she going to see dinosaurs too then?” she said, tilting her head.

  “Dinosaurs at the zoo exhibit—which are fake ones, by the way. Lunch and the trampoline park. And then ice cream and back home.” I mopped up the spilled milk on the counter, going over my plan in my head.

  Surely, all this fun and excitement would send Maisy into a whirlwind and Betty into a crisis that she would either handle like a badass or fail at miserably and run away—just like Jane.

  Maisy squealed, hopping out of her seat and clapping. “I’m ready!”

  “No, you’re not. Let’s brush your hair first. Then, we’ll get Miss Betty. But you promise to be on your best behavior today, okay? Miss Betty doesn’t have kids. I’m not sure she understands how exhausting it can be, keeping up with you. So, let’s be mindful of that.” I gently pushed her toward the bathroom, where we’d battle with a hairbrush for twenty minutes.

  “Got it. Miss Betty is Daddy’s girlfriend,” she said, giggling and hopping down the hall in more energy than I’d had all week.

  I dragged my feet behind her. My stomach bubbled anxiously. I desperately didn’t want to set today up for disaster, but as a single father, I had to know if Betty would fit into my small family or if she was just another runner when the going got tough.

  We made it to the zoo before lunch, stopping to pick up Betty along the way. She and Maisy chatted during the entire car ride about everything under the sun. Neither one tired out on conversations. They kept chattering away right up until we exited my truck and made our way through the zoo entrance, and even then, they only stopped talking because the sound of monkeys distracted them long enough to follow their calls.

  I’d thought Betty would feel like a third wheel during this outing, but so far, I was the one falling behind. I tried to push myself into the conversation, but these two girls droned on and on without stopping. It became hard for me to get a word in, much less offer an opinion. I tried that during talks of Harry Potter and was immediately shot down. Two against one. I tried to root for Hufflepuff, but these boasting Gryffindors weren’t having it.

  Maisy walked in the middle of us, grabbing my hand on her left and Betty’s on her right and tugging us both toward the monkey exhibit.

  “We’re going to miss them playing!” she yelled, hurtling us toward the animals.

  The closer we came to the monkeys, the louder they played. And by played, I meant, fucked. We walked up to the exhibit just as Monkey Bobo was pounding Monkey Hoho from behind so loud that Betty and I both winced in pain.

  “That’s a funny way to play.” Maisy looked up at me for answers.

  I looked to Betty, horrified.

  Not today, Satan.

  Today was not the day I explained the birds and the bees to my daughter because we’d stumbled upon two apes going apeshit on each other. Hell no.

  “Oh, that is just …” I said as another monkey climbed behind Hoho and began humping her and bellowing at the top of his lungs. “Oh God. What are they teaching these animals?” I cried out to Betty, grabbing Maisy’s hand and steering her out of there.

  Betty wore an expression as horrified as mine. Clearly, this was territory we both weren’t prepared to tackle. I couldn’t count this one against her.

  “You know, that’s a funny way of playing! I don’t think that monkey asked for consent to treat others so hurtfully. Looks painful! I wonder if that’s a bull
y monkey, and we’re just witnessing a fight. That other monkey should turn around and kick him in the quaffle balls and run. Someone needs to teach that poor animal how to stick up for herself!” Betty grabbed Maisy’s other hand and pulled her farther away from the mating calls before turning to me. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Right. I didn’t want you to see a fight and have it scare you. Animals do crazy things sometimes. They aren’t people, like us. They’re wild. Now, let’s go find the mechanical dinosaurs we came here for and grab a bite to eat!” I brushed the top of Maisy’s head, calming the look of concern that had furrowed her brow.

  Maisy shrugged and skipped ahead.

  I sidled next to Betty and put my arm around her waist, pulling her in close enough to hear my whispers. “That was quick thinking. Thanks. I haven’t approached that subject with her yet. And I don’t plan on it for another forty years.”

  “No worries. You’ve got time. Not forty years. Maybe two or three. But she’s over it. Look at her. She probably isn’t even thinking about wild monkey sex right now. I am though. That one move he did there at the beginning brought back memories of the hotel.” Her soft voice tickled my neck, sending goose bumps up my arms.

  “You liked that move, didn’t ya? I’ll have to call it the Bobo now.” I laughed.

  “Do it, and you’ll never do that move on me again.” She laughed before returning her gaze to Maisy.

  “Don’t like that.” I shook my head.

  “Can you two quit cuddling back there and kick it up a notch?” Maisy turned around, hands on hips.

  Betty’s mouth formed a small O before she whispered, “Dayum.”

  We were now entering Maisy’s hangry phase, easily recognizable by the lousy adult-sized attitude.

  I smiled to myself. Let the games begin.

  We hustled up beside Maisy as she led the way into the dinosaur exhibit. Her little legs darted from one of the dino robots to the next.

  “Do you know what kind of dinosaur this is?” Betty asked Maisy, stopping to read the blurb in front of a severely outdated machine. The robotic figure in front of her hissed. “Puh-lease, robo dino. I got a T. rex next door that could eat you alive.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I do! It’s a dilophosaur.

  “How did you know that?” Betty stepped back.

  “I can read.” Maisy pointed to the blurb. “But what do you mean, you have a T. rex next door?”

  Betty threw both her hands in the air. “Oh, okay. It’s not a real T. rex. It’s one of those costumes my friend likes to wear for shits and giggles. I mean, shoots and giggles! Or whatever.” She shot me an apologetic look and shrugged.

  “I know what that word means. Sometimes, when I can’t find Daddy, I’ll go running around the house, screaming for him. He always screams back, ‘For goodness’ sake, can I please take a shi—’ ” Her voice became low but loud as she mocked me.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I cut her off, pulling her away from Betty. “Let’s get lunch.”

  Betty smirked and at least averted her eyes from mine to save me some dignity.

  “Ice cream?” Maisy’s eyes widened.

  “No. That’s a snack. We need real food.” I shook my head and headed toward the exit.

  “But I want ice cream. You said we could have ice cream today.” Maisy planted her heels in the ground and crossed her arms.

  “We can … but not yet. Let’s just get pizza at that restaurant by the elephants. We can watch them while we eat. Sound okay?” I could feel Maisy’s hangry attitude growing by the minute.

  “No.” She stared me down.

  “What would you rather eat?”

  “Ice cream. Or nothing. Do you want me to starve and die?” She clutched at her chest, falling to her knees and letting out a croak.

  “All right, Maisy. We don’t have to eat right now. Show me the elephants, will ya? I haven’t seen one of those since I was your age. Where to? You’re the tour guide for us. Otherwise, I’d get lost in here.” Betty stepped in, helping Maisy to her feet.

  “I can do that easily. I come here all the time. Or … I used to. But Daddy works a lot now, so …” Maisy slumped her shoulders forward and shuffled her feet out of the exhibit and toward the elephants.

  “Go on ahead. We’re following.” Betty nodded, encouraging Maisy onward. “I’m guessing Miss Maisy usually gets what she wants.” She turned toward me, hooking her arm in mine.

  “Yep. I spoil the shit out of her. She doesn’t have a mom or siblings. Hell, we don’t even have a pet. And I work all the damn time. Dad guilt. I give her all I can. I do my best. I’m not quite sure how to balance it all. I worry I’ll create a monster, spoiling her as I do. But right now, she’s just hangry. She gets super moody when that happens. Otherwise, she’s as sweet as can be. Usually.” I stared down at my shoes, kicking rocks off the path.

  “You’re her hero. Whether you spoil her or not, you’ll figure it out. You just need more help. A village. Also, some tricks, like distraction. That move I pulled back there with telling her to show me the elephants? That was a trick. We’re going to go to the elephants and work our way toward the food. Just watch. You have to give her some amount of control too. Kids want that independence. Just like we do. But, hey, you’re doing a good job, Terrance. You’re a great dad.” Betty leaned over, pecking me on the cheek.

  Maisy started to bounce in front of us, picking up her pace as she neared the elephants.

  “Thanks. I’m trying,” I said, jogging to catch up with my daughter before she disappeared out of sight.

  “Ta-da! Your wrinkly, old giants await, madam!” Maisy threw her hands out, motioning toward the elephants.

  “And what an amazing little tour guide you are! How do you remember where to go?” Betty put her arm around Maisy, bringing her in for a hug.

  “Just smart, I guess.” Maisy shrugged, leaning on the iron fence and sighing.

  We watched the animals eat, walk around, and eat some more, and even though the stench was stifling in this area, my stomach rumbled with a gnawing hunger so loud that it drew Betty’s attention.

  “This is boring,” Maisy said. She gripped the railing and leaned back, bouncing on her heels.

  “Yeah, these things are kind of slow. Let’s move on. But I need to make a pit stop to the ladies’ room first. I think I remember there being one in that restaurant over there.” Betty tilted her head toward the place I wanted to sit for lunch. “Want to come with me and wash your hands from the stench of this place?” she asked Maisy.

  “I’ll show you the way!” Maisy skipped ahead of us again, only pausing to hold the door to the restaurant open for us. “Wow. It smells good in here! Much better than out there!”

  “Yeah. It’s making me hungry. I might have to get something to eat real quick. After I wash up.” Betty ran off to the restroom, followed by Maisy.

  When they came back, they both were in a fit of giggles.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Girl talk, Dad!” Maisy looked at Betty.

  Betty looked back and winked. “Sorry! Girl code. What happens in the ladies’ room stays in there. Now, where’s that menu? I’m starving!” she said.

  “Me too!” Maisy jumped in the air.

  I looked at Betty in awe. If Maisy weren’t here now, I’d for sure tell her I loved her. She’d been able to not only handle hangry Maisy, but also get her to do something I wanted without bribing her or giving in to her. She manipulated my daughter so flawlessly that I’d propose marriage right here, right now if I could. With Betty’s help, this parenting gig was a hell of a lot easier.

  We all left the restaurant in much better moods. I ordered Maisy an extra-sugary ice cream sundae to eat in the truck on the way to the trampoline park. Maisy plus sugar plus a giant gymnasium full of kids screaming and hollering would be the ultimate test. If Betty could handle that, she was golden. I could barely even handle that combo.

  I reached over to hold Betty’s hand as Maisy ate
her ice cream and sang at the top of her lungs. Lately, she’d been into the band Queen. I’d been playing their top tracks on repeat for weeks. It could be worse. It could be that damn “Baby Shark” shit I kept hearing everywhere.

  “You’ve got one cool kid there, Terrance. Listen to her. Singing Queen, knowing her dinosaurs. I bet she can show me some warrior moves at this trampoline park too,” Betty said loud enough for Maisy to hear.

  “I can beat Daddy at the ropes course,” Maisy said, smacking her lips.

  “It’s true though.” I nodded.

  “I bet. Are you sure your arm is okay to be playing at the trampoline park?” Betty asked, turning in her seat.

  “Of course. I don’t even have a cast anymore. It’s like a new arm! Look!” Maisy jerked her arm back and forth.

  “It’s fine. I asked the doctor. Everything is all good,” I assured Betty and myself.

  We pulled into the parking lot, hopped out, and bought our tickets. I insisted Betty jump with us, and she didn’t argue. But once we walked past the entrance and into the gymnasium, she began to change her mind.

  “What’s that?” She pointed at a kid flying down a zip line.

  He screamed at the top of his lungs, swaying side to side until he came to an abrupt stop on the other side of the gym.

  “That’s the zip line! I’ve been trying to get Maisy to do it for forever, but she’s too chicken.” I stuck my palms under my pits and performed a chicken flap.

  “Nuh-uh! I’ll do it. I just might not do it today. That’s all!” Maisy jumped up and down, pulling us toward a giant trampoline.

  “I don’t blame you, Maisy. I don’t think I’d do that either. I’m not a fan of heights!” Betty glanced at the ropes course, also high up on the ceiling.

  “But you flew in an airplane!” I said.

 

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