Dad Bod (Under Construction Book 1)

by Silla Webb

  “How are you hungry? I saw the mustard smeared across your cheek when you arrived at the gym.”

  Laney shrugs. “I didn’t ask for diet advice, Jo. So don’t give it. Besides, I’m sure I burned off my mid-day snack, so lunch isn’t gonna hurt. I’ve been craving a seafood platter all week.”

  At the mention of cravings, the thought crosses my mind that Laney might be pregnant. But before I let the question fall from my mouth, I think better of it and stuff it to the back of my mind. It’s a sensitive subject for Laney. If she wants me to know something, she’ll tell me. Unfortunately, she doesn’t use that same consideration with me.

  Laney parks, taking up two spaces right in front of Spike’s on the Oceanfront, just like the asshole she is. We head to our usual table on the patio and pop the umbrella up to shield the blaze from the sun. Yeah, it’s late September, but the South has one season, situated right in the fourth circle of Hell.

  We order drinks and appetizers—fried calamari for Laney, and seafood lettuce wraps for Bryn and I.

  “So you’ll never believe who’s on the roster for my five pm hot yoga class…” Bryn teases.

  Laney smirks like the cat who ate the canary, and I’m starting to wonder how much the men at Davenport Construction gossip.

  “Who?” I ask, intrigued.

  “Maverick. Reynolds.” Bryn bites off each name with a clipped and angry tone. “But for the life of me, I can’t imagine why a man whore like that would need flexibility and strength training. I mean, isn’t that what he uses his harem of twits for?”

  Laney grasps her stomach as she erupts into laughter. “Oh fuck, Mav has you in his sights!”

  “Like hell he does! And quite frankly, I don’t want his crab-infested crotch on my yoga mats! There isn’t enough Lysol disinfectant in the state of Georgia to rid my yoga studio with the myriad of sexually transmitted diseases that man may possibly carry.” Bryn shudders in disgust then turns to me. “Jo, pleeeassse have Gia take over that class.”

  “I don’t know, Bryn. I think that would be a disservice to a client. Then Gia will be a notch on Maverick’s bedpost, and I don’t see that ending well for our little group.”

  “Group? Do you mean us girls … orrrr.” Bryn’s brow raises high in her hairline, and she tilts her head. “You don’t mean the fellas too, do you?”

  “Well, yeah? I mean, we’ve all been hanging out, and the guys did save us from a night in the pokey the last time we all got together. Are we not a little group?”

  Bryn and Laney shake their head simultaneously, except Bryn’s moves from side to side while Laney nods up and down.

  “But I’m more interested in how Gia hooking up with Mav would affect any of us, Jo. Bryn’s disgusted by the guy, so unless it’s Mav you’re interested in and not…”

  “No, Laney. That’s not it at all.” It’s not my business, maybe… “This isn’t my business, and maybe I’m way off base here, but I think Madden might have a little crush on Gia.” Laney laughs, and Bryn gasps in shock. “I could be wrong, but judging from the way he goes stock-still and falls over his words when she speaks to him. I don’t know.” I shrug.

  “You’re delusional, Jo,” Laney scoffs, and she looks pissed.

  “I didn’t say it was fact, Lan. Just a feeling I have.”

  “I agree with Laney on this one, Jo. I’ve seen the way Madden looks at you, and I’ve seen the way he looks at Gia. I’d bet $500 right now that you’re his main crush.”

  Here we go again.

  “Ooookay, let’s forget that I said anything.”

  Bryn looks at Laney then at me, her mouth quirking to the side like she’s wanting to say something but really isn’t sure how to say it.

  “Ya know, I’m not just your friend, Jo. Madden is like a big brother to me, and when I see the two of you together, I can feel the electricity that singes between you, the sparks that fly, and I…” Laney laughs to herself, looking out at the ocean. “I actually get jealous.” She looks between Bryn and me, and the hurt in Laney’s eyes is surprising. “You don’t see how Madden looks at you, how his eyes light up when he talks about you. I know you’re scared of getting hurt, but Madden is a safe bet, and I’m not even a gambler.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MADDEN

  Do not look at her ass, do not look at her ass. I keep repeating that to myself, but it’s doing absolutely no fuckin’ good. Jordan leads me toward the left side of the gym where Bryn’s yoga studio is housed. I’ve only been over to this area a couple times, and I know shit about yoga, but I figure my hot ass trainer won’t lead me astray. Mav mentioned something about a yoga class last week, and all us guys gave him absolute hell over it. Which means today—this right here, what I’m getting ready to do—has to stay between Jordan and me.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.” Jordan grins because she knows I’m not excited about this. “Yoga relaxes the mind and soul. I use it often when I’m feeling anxious.”

  “I’m not bending like a pretzel or sticking my ass up in the air, Jordan.” She snickers and pushes the door open, motioning for me to enter with a sweep of her hand. I can’t lie, there’s something about this room that’s soothing. The ambiance in here is incredible.

  What the fuck?

  Did I just say ambiance?

  I sound like one of those HGTV guys.

  The room has zero windows, the walls are painted a shade of navy, and the floor is completely covered in a foam rubber type surface. This would be the perfect place to take a nap, considering that I’ve had a whopping total of three hours of sleep in the last twenty-four. Three point five if you count the half hour of sleep I was able to snag in my truck during lunch break.

  Last night Belle had a night terror, and nothing I did would console her. She was in that stage of sleep where she was vocal and crying for Casey, but she wasn’t alert. I rocked her and rubbed soothing circles on her back. I even sang the lullaby that Casey sang to her when she was a baby. I was at my wits end by the time she finally cried herself to sleep, cradled in my arms. I was completely heartbroken that in all the struggles I’ve battled to protect my little girl, this was one that I couldn’t win.

  I know she misses her momma, but Casey isn’t in a healthy frame of mind to be a mother. Hell, I don’t think she even wants to be a mother. Maybe one day the two can reunite, but that’s a long and winding road years ahead. Casey never could see past herself to care for anyone else. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish person in my life. How could you not want your own child?

  This morning Belle was her normal self, and she didn’t even mention the nightmare. In the past I was certain she didn’t remember them, but this morning she wanted to talk about her mom, which makes me think subconsciously she does remember. She hasn’t really asked why it’s just the two of us, or why Grammy or Laney do most girl things with her. I try hard every day to be Dad and Mom, but it doesn’t always work out that way. I want my Belle to have wonderful people in her life and while the idea of dating sounds nice, I have a very impressionable little mind to consider. Besides, all the women I’ve dated lately have been a few bricks shy of a load.

  “Mad, did you hear me?” Jordan asks, concern filling her eyes. “You’re not having another panic attack, are you?”

  “Nah,” I exhale, “just tired today.”

  Over the next thirty minutes Jordan leads me through the most awkward stretches I’ve ever seen before in my life all while telling me constantly, “Deep breaths in, exhale slowly.” I may be just a construction worker, but I know that it’s not common for the body of a man of my size to bend like that. I may or may not have missed out on a couple steps, but it honestly couldn’t be helped. Jordan had her ass right in my face the entire time—thick, round, and defined but smooth and soft. I’m a man for fuck’s sake. A man who hasn’t been satisfied by anything other than my hand in way too long. It’s not just that, though. Jordan is breathtaking, her body is incredible, but her heart is
just as pretty. Fuck me running, I’ve totally fallen for my trainer.

  “Okay!” Jordan stands as we finish our last pose. “Don’t you feel more relaxed?”

  I’m still laid flat on the mat, eyes closed. The room is swirling, and suddenly Jo doubles then triples, and her voice echoes about the space. Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped lunch today and napped. I open my eyes and try to gather myself because this shit cannot happen in front of Jo again, but nope—still swirlin’. I pinch my eyes closed and inhale a deep breath. Jordan already sees me as an old fat man, and I can’t have her thinkin’ I’m a pussy too.

  “Mad,” she prompts, nudging me with her foot. “Madden, I really need you to open your eyes.

  “Give me a minute.” I keep my eyes closed and try to get the room to stop fuckin’ spinning.

  Jordan drops down to the mat beside me; even though my eyes are closed I can smell her sweet scent. She smells like fuckin’ vanilla candy, and I’m starving, completely head over heels for her, and her close proximity is fuckin’ with my already dizzy head. There’s something about her scent that comforts me and excites me at the same time. Finally managing to open my eyes and not see two of her, our eyes lock. The look of concern filling her deep green eyes is my undoing.

  “Mad, you’re scaring me.”

  The slight waver of her voice draws my attention straight to those perfect lips of hers, and I can’t stop staring at them. Fuck, I want to kiss her so bad. I want to bury my head in her neck, let her comfort me and take away the anxiety I feel over all the shit that seems to be going on in my life. And yeah, it makes me sound like a pussy, but I can’t bring myself to give a shit. A hint of a smile reaches my lips, and Jordan swats at my chest before attempting to move away, probably thinking I’m fooling around. But I can’t let that happen. I latch a hand around her wrist, securing her to me. Her eyes widen in shock, and for a minute doubt creeps in—maybe this is a bad idea. When her breath hitches and her chest heaves as rapidly as mine, I stop thinking and react. I remove my hand from her wrist and clutch the back of her head, my grip rough yet gentle, but something tells me Jordan’s not the type of woman I need to be gentle with. I lift my core, her face mere inches from mine now, and I pull her lips down to meet mine. Her lips are as delicate as I imagined, but I devour their softness greedily.

  She tastes sweet and inviting. Kissing her makes me feel renewed. All it takes is a second for Jordan to get on board, and as I run my tongue along her bottom lip, she opens for me willingly. I’m fuckin’ gone. My hands move to grasp her face and deepen the kiss. The groan that erupts from deep in her throat as her hands fist my shirt makes my body take on a life of its own. We’re all hands and lips and tongues, in our own little world until the sound of voices nearing the door sends us crashing back into the real world.

  Jordan jerks away quickly and scrambles to stand. She can’t get away from me fast enough. I’m still laid out on the floor thinking about what an awesome fuckin’ kiss that was, and she’s up and rushing away from me like I have the Bubonic plague. Shit, I know I’m out of practice, but I didn’t think I was that bad. Her eyes are everywhere but on me. I open my mouth to speak, to apologize maybe… Shit, I don’t know what to do, but I have to do something. Just the thought of this woman walking away from me raises my defenses immediately. Before I can even get the first word out sweet giggles that always make me smile fill the room. Shit, I forgot that Mom was going to drop Belle off at Dumb Belles to me.

  “Woah, Healthy Lady, what the hell, did you kill him?”

  I wince as the curse leaves her cute little mouth. I really have to work on cleaning up my language around her. The fellas are going to have to work on that too. Curse word aside, leave it to my Belly to completely kill the tension in the room. Jo snickers as Mom makes her presence known with the tone of voice that literally made me piss myself once or twice as a kid.

  “Isabella,” she scolds, “young ladies do not use that kind of language.” She cuts her eyes at Belly, that look that says I mean business, then her eyes find me now sitting up on the floor. She scowls, a look that proceeds to say, ‘You’re not too old for me to whip your ass.’

  “Sorry, Grammy, but I was only sayin’ what I hear Dorothory say to Sowfia on the TV while ago.” Belle throws her Grammy a look that screams, ‘Make me watch the Golden Girls again’ in challenge.

  The look on Mom’s face is priceless. She’s been schooled by a five-year-old, and she knows it. My face is fixed solely on the mat because I can’t let my daughter see the amusement in my eyes. I don’t want her to think it’s okay to use those words, but it’s damn hard not to laugh. Jo is standing beside Belle, trying to mask her laugh as a cough.

  She bends down to Belle’s level and gives her a fist bump like they are the oldest friends in the world. I watch them interact like they are starring in my favorite movie. I look up and meet Mom’s eyes. She’s yet again talking without saying a word, using those peepers, hands on hips and a smirk that says, ‘I see you, son.’

  Jordan fills the awkward silence. “Hey, Belly girl. Did you have a good day with your grammy?

  “I sure did, Healthy Lady. I wove her so good.” She smiles. “You can call hers Grammy or hard-ass; that’s what my daddy says anyway.”

  Fuck me—those eyes of Mom’s have scolded me more today than they have in years. Her resting-witch-face—because I ain’t about to disrespect my momma with that other derogatory term—is strong as her brow cocks and she purses her lips. Her eyes cut to me, a look that says, ‘Yep, we will definitely be discussing this later.’

  Jo folds her lips between her teeth, fighting back a laugh. She sure as shit has to be scared pissless of my mom, given the hard stare I’m on the receiving end of. Then again, Momma ain’t batted a cruel eye in Jordan’s direction yet, so maybe not.

  “Mom, I—” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Later, Madden Alexander.” She middle names me as she moves her eyes back to Jordan, warmth returning to them. Holding her hand out, she introduces herself to Jordan. “Hi Jordan. It’s so nice to see you.”

  “You too, Mrs. Davenport.”

  “Call me Maggie or Grammy, please…” Momma trails off, her smile fading as she pins me with a pointed glare. “Just don’t call me hard-ass.”

  For the first time since Jordan pulled her lips from mine, she finally makes eye contact with me, and I’ll be damned if she isn’t scolding me with her eyes too, a ‘what the fuck Madden?’ look. I shrug carelessly because, honestly, I don’t have the energy to do anything else. Where do women learn that talking with their eyes shit? Do they teach a class on it in school? I need to make sure Belle is absent that day.

  “You okay, Daddy?” Belly asks, her little hand on my sweaty shoulder. Covering her hand with mine, doing everything I can to comfort her and convey to her that I am okay and Daddy isn’t going anywhere.

  “Belly, Daddy is just fine,” I soothe, pulling her down into my lap. “I forgot to eat lunch today.”

  “Madden!” Jordan and Mom scold in unison.

  “Relax, ladies. It was stupid, I know. I didn’t sleep well last night and napped at lunch instead of eating.”

  “Don’t move,” Jordan orders, “I’m getting you a protein bar from my office.”

  Before I can argue, that hard as balls trainer is back, and Jordan charges from the room. Belle follows along after her just so she can nosey around the gym.

  “Belle, stay with Jordan,” I order as the door closes.

  Well shit, I’m alone with hard-ass. I know the lecture is coming, and I deserve every word of it; I’m so fuckin’ overwhelmed right now.

  “Another night terror last night?” Mom questions. Totally not the words I expected to hear from her. I nod. Mom knows how exhausting Belle’s night terrors can be because she has had one while sleeping over with her once before.

  “This was different though, Mom,” I tell her. “Belle didn’t particularly remember having the nightmare, but this morning she asked a
bout Casey.” I pause and clear my throat. The mention of her name makes me feel like I’m suffocating, too many stressful memories rising to the surface, and my chest restricts. “Belle doesn’t normally talk about her mom.”

  Mom shakes her head and walks over to me, pulling a piece of pink paper out of her handbag and handing it to me.

  “You think this may have something to do with it?”

  I unfold the paper. An invitation to the very first Tybee Tots Mother-Daughter Tea Party.

  Well, fuck.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JORDAN

  “That don’t look like no Snickers bar,” Belle chides from behind me as I grab the protein bar for Madden from my desk drawer. Stubborn, stubborn man. What was he thinking trying to do a full workout and yoga on an empty stomach?

  “These are healthy and full of protein, Belle. Snickers are full of sugar.”

  “No suga,” she blanches, “no thank you.”

  I swear, this kid is off the rails. Belle is always so happy and go with the flow; you never know what is going to come out of her mouth.

  Wonder what kept Madden up all night? Yeah, yeah. I’m a nosey bitch; we have well established this by now. Belle’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

  “Dowes any of ’dis has suga?” I look over to find her rummaging through my drawer of snacks.

  Laughing, I pat her little head. “Nope, Belly, just healthy stuff here.”

  She looks up at me with excited eyes and a huge smile. “You just called me Belly, like my daddy.”

  I can’t help but smile. “I did,” I tell her. "We're friends, ain’t we?”

  “Yep,” she states, popping her p. She motions for me to come closer as if she’s going to tell me a secret. I bend down and offer my ear to her. Putting her little hand up to hide her words, she whispers, “It’s otay if you likes me more than Kenny; gurl power and alls that.”

  The laughter that bursts from my chest is loud, and I don’t care who hears me—this kid is great. I offer her a wink and a high five. “Let’s go find your daddy so he can eat. We don’t want him to be sick, right?” Belle nods in agreement and slips her chubby little hand in mine. We walk back to the yoga studio, but I wait outside the door as I overhear Madden and Maggie in what sounds like a heated discussion.