Dad Bod (Under Construction Book 1)

by Silla Webb

  She’s definitely not the kind of woman I’d take home to Momma, and I certainly wouldn’t have her around my kid, but she’s got an okay vagina with a decent amount of elasticity that serves the purpose of my dick for the moment.

  Sawyer grinds against me, clawing at my chest and shoulders, and I reposition myself to drive deeper, her knee arched over my shoulders as I thrust into her. She thrusts back against me, fighting for control, but I lock her beneath me, my left knee extended upward for balance and my right knee lined up with my hip. She fucks me hard and fast, sweat creasing my brows, an intense tingle at the base of my spine, and a soft stroke up and down my balls has my…

  Just as the orgasm attempts to wash over me, I hear brash, heavy panting and licking, and that’s when I realize we’re not alone. A huff of air blows against my taint as a small abrasive tongue licks up the back of my nuts.

  In one swift move I’m out of Sawyer and rolling onto my back, looking about the bed for an uninvited participant. “What the fuckin’ hell!” I shout and jump out of the bed and grab my clothes from the floor.

  “Aww, there you are, Roscoe!” Sawyer exclaims as she pats the mattress, encouraging the eighty-five pound English bulldog that just sexually assaulted me to come to her. Roscoe, her canine rapist, pants heavily and licks its snout as it glares at me.

  Beer roils nauseously in my gut, and I choke back the bile that works its way up my throat. Pissed as hell, I dress as quickly as I can and cut my loses.

  “What are you doing? I was about to come!” Sawyer shouts at my back.

  “Yeah, Lector, so was I until your fuckin’ disgusting dog decided to lick my ass and balls!” I turn down the hallway and head toward the front door, actually seeing her apartment with fresh eyes. The place is an absolute pigsty with trash littering every piece of furniture and surface in sight. I shudder in disgust as I open the door and step out into the hallway, narrowly missing the dog bone that Sawyer chucks at my head in her fit of rage.

  I make it to my truck and bend at the waist, retching the contents of my stomach all over the gravel.

  I climb into the cab and punch the steering wheel five or six times before I start the ignition and burn rubber against the pavement as I haul ass onto the highway.

  With every passing mile marker, my anger brews to a boiling point. I’m tired, drunk, nauseous and pissed. And drowning my sorrows only made things worse. My emotions are rampant, thoughts all over the fuckin’ place, and I drive until I slam the gearshift in park. I unfold myself from the truck and make my way up the cobblestone path, my fist rattling the front door off the hinges. I don’t even know what time it is, but it’s time I get this shit off my chest and lay it at the feet where it belongs.

  Carter opens the front door and looks at me in confusion. “Damn, brother. Are you shitfaced?”

  I push past him and into the house. “Where the hell is Laney?”

  “Right here.” I hear her before I see her, and I turn around so quickly I stagger. “Help him, Carter, before he hurts himself.”

  Carter steadies me on my feet. “Come on, big man. Let’s get you some coffee. Sober you right up.” I don’t argue. I don’t think I’m really all that drunk. Just tipsy, maybe. But I’m pissed, so talking with friends over coffee ain’t gonna be so damn pleasant.

  Carter plants my ass on a barstool while Laney makes quick work of brewing coffee.

  “I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Carter says.

  “Nah, pull up a seat. Witness me handin’ your wife’s ass to her.”

  Laney laughs as she places a piping hot cup of coffee in front of me. “You pack a lunch, big boy?”

  “You know how many hours of sleep I’ve had these last two weeks, Lan?”

  Carter leans against the counter, cautiously watching.

  Laney shrugs. “No idea, but I’m sure you’re gonna enlighten me, right?”

  “About three hours a night. Why? Because Belle’s havin’ night terrors again. Every. Damn. Night. Screaming and thrashing in her sleep. No matter what I do to soothe her, the crying is relentless.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Mad? Do you know what’s causing her to be so restless?” There’s concern in Laney’s voice, softness in her eyes, and damn it, I know she loves my kid, but this is all her fuckin’ fault.

  “For two fuckin’ weeks, Lan.”

  “Do you know what’s causing it?” Carter asks, concern written all over his face.

  “Laney and her fuckin’ tea party.”

  “You pissed you didn’t get an invite or some shit?” Carter chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “Because you know it’s—”

  “Mother and fuckin’ daughter, Carter,” I finish as realization dawns on him. He looks from me to Laney, whose face is stark white, her eyes wide in disbelief. She glares at me with a pitiful look of disdain as she searches for words that will fall on deaf ears.

  “Mad, I…” Her chest rises and falls as she fights back the tears. “I didn’t consider the situation. I should have, but I…”

  I shrug, uncaring that my words inflict pain or heartache. Why the hell should I? I’m the only advocate my daughter has. I’m her voice.

  “You couldn’t bring that shit directly to me? I see you every day, Lan. You couldn’t skip her backpack when you handed out flyers? Pull her from class when you made the announcement to the other little girls? Do you not understand the damage you’ve done?”

  Laney chokes back a sob as tears streak down her face. Carter, ever the peacemaker, steps in to appease the situation. “I’m sorry, Mad. You know Laney wouldn’t hurt Belle intentionally. Hell, she considers the kid her own.”

  “But she’s not, is she, Carter? Belle’s my daughter.”

  “Fuck, really? You think you’re the only one who’s raised that kid? You’re out of your damn mind if you believe that shit,” Carter spews.

  Carter loves Belle as if she’s his own—their bond unbreakable. He was there when she was born. There when she took her first steps. There when I carried her out of…

  Fuckin’ Laney. As much as Carter has been by Belle’s side, Laney has as well. It wasn’t an oversight on her part that Belle found out about the tea party. The one woman my daughter looks up to, who she feels safest with, has hurt Belle so deeply and without any regard in doing so.

  “Stop, please!” Laney begs. “I can’t change things, Madden. I’m sorry. The preschool receives donations through charitable partners for hosting these events, and this is the largest fundraiser we have this fall. I had to send the invite just as protocol because the higher the attendance, the higher the donation will be. I didn’t consider how this could negatively affect Belle because I assumed I’d be the one to take her.” She blows out a breath and continues, “I truly did intend to talk to you or Maggie, Mad. I promise I did. The only excuse I have is that I forgot. I’m human.” Laney wipes at her face with the sleeve of her shirt and pinches her eyes closed as she pulls herself together. “But don’t you dare, not for one second, act as if I intentionally tried to hurt that baby. She’s as much mine as she is yours!”

  Carter pulls Laney into his arms where she falls apart. The air in the room is stuffy, tense, but witnessing this moment between the two of them, knowing I invoked some pain in Laney, doesn’t make me feel any better about this shit at all.

  “Drink your coffee and sober the hell up,” Carter bites out as he leads Laney out of the kitchen. Alone with my thoughts, I realize how lost I am in the single dad department. Everything is a mess, and I don’t know how to fix any of it.

  I drink the coffee then refill my cup twice before Carter returns to the kitchen. I don’t even realize how much time has passed, I’m so wrapped up in my head.

  He pours himself a cup of coffee and sits across from me, lacing his fingers together.

  “Lan alright?”

  “Are you?” Carter rebuts, his tone laced with ice.

  That’s fair.

  “I’m sorry, man. For bustin’ in here at w
hatever time of night it is, lashing out at Laney. Being a total dick in your house and disrespecting your wife.”

  “What is going on with you, Mad?”

  And if that ain’t the question of the night. I don’t even know how to answer. We don’t sit around and shoot the shit, talking about our feelins’. Men don’t do that. But I realize as I look at my best friend, my brother, that this is an offering to do exactly that.

  “I wish I knew how to put it into words, Carter, I really do.”

  “Don’t think about it, man. Just talk.”

  And for the next two hours, Carter listens quietly, his body language calm, relaxed. He doesn’t show one ounce of judgment against me, simply understanding that I’m a man who’s failing his daughter more each and every day.

  But can it really be perceived as a failure when I strive to give Belle the best life possible? Sure, I have shortcomings just like any-damn-body else, but I’m puttin’ one foot forward.

  “You know what you need to do, Mad?”

  “That’s a stupid question, brother. If I knew all the answers, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

  “Chase the girl.”

  “You’re serious? That’s your infinite wisdom?” Carter nods, cocksure of himself. “How much liquor did you have to drink tonight because it can’t be as easy as that.”

  “Oh, it is, brother. You’ll figure it all out in time. Jordan’s the one for you. But she ain’t no easy catch. You gotta prove to her that you’re worth her love and devotion.”

  “I got doubts, man,” I admit. “She’s too good for the likes of me.”

  He nods and says, “Let her be the judge of that. But damn, she loves your kid, and she goes out of the way to be a friend. There’s more to your friendship with Jo than what you realize.” And maybe he’s right. Maybe if I show Jordan that I’m interested, no questions asked, she’ll take me seriously.

  “Is Laney gonna be okay? I can’t believe I went off on her like that and didn’t pack an ass-kickin’.”

  “Laney is strugglin’, Mad. The day we brought Belle home from the hospital … something in her changed. She always loved kids, that’s why she became a preschool teacher, but Belle gave her purpose. A reason to get up each morning and make a change in the life of every kid she teaches.” Carter pinches the bridge of his nose, irritation rolling off of him in rapid waves. “You don’t know the hell we’ve been through tryin’ to conceive a kid of our own.”

  Carter pins me with a glare, and as if I’ve been punched in the fuckin’ gut, I gasp for the breath that was just knocked out of me. “I-I had no idea, Carter.”

  “We don’t tell everyone everything. We try to deal on our own, but fuck if it ain’t hard. She’s shuttin’ down on me more and more, Mad. I feel like I’m losin’ her.”

  “You’re full of shit. You do realize I’m jealous as fuck at what you have with Lan, right? A woman who loves you selflessly. She’s not just your wife, Carter; she’s your best friend. So you hit a bump in the road. That doesn’t mean she’s quittin’ ya.”

  He shakes his head, not buyin’ into what I’m tellin’ him. “I hope you’re right, Mad. Damn if I don’t pray the words you just spoke aren’t the absolute truth. But I’m losin’ faith. Laney is convinced that we’re never gonna have a family of our own. Why do you think she clings so much to Belle? She feels like a momma to that little girl, although biologically, she ain’t. She’s loved Belle more than Casey ever has, Mad, and that has to count for something.”

  “I’m sorry, Carter. I didn’t mean to heave more shit on her back. She’s got enough to worry with as is. I rely on Lan too damn much when Belle is my responsibility.”

  “You’re not hearin’ me,” he cuts me off. “It isn’t about doin’ too much for Belle, Mad. We love that kid like she’s our own. It’s about how Laney is processin’ everything.” He shakes his head to clear it, then stands and puts the coffee cups in the sink.

  “We’ve had enough of the heavy tonight. You’re soberin’ up, but you need to put your ass on the couch and catch a few hours of sleep before goin’ home.”

  “Yeah, okay. At least in the mornin’ I can make amends with Laney.”

  Carter sputters out a sarcastic laugh. “Prepare to pay up, brother. That’s a tough shell to crack.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JORDAN

  I have no clue how kids get by on almost no sleep. Then again, maybe they slept well considering when I woke up this morning, I was laying scrunched up on the floor in our makeshift tent that encompassed my entire living room. Kenny and Belle were both stretched out like the King and Queen of the castle. I’m pretty sure at some point during the night I received a swift kick to the kidney and a jab to the jaw, courtesy of two horrible bedfellows.

  I fueled Kenny and Belle with pancakes, protein-packed but not even trying to slide in sugar-free syrup—I’m pretty sure Belle has some kind of device that would have alerted her that the right amount of sugar wasn’t in that bottle. We cleaned up the tent, dressed for the day, and shot some hoops out back until Madden sent me a text.

  >>Can you meet me with Belle down at the pier? I’m going to go for a run.

  >Sure. We will meet you there. ??

  >>Thanks.

  Erin is still retching up everything that touches her stomach, so I decide to help her out by taking Girlie, the family’s three-year-old Golden Doodle, with us to the beach. I send Madden a quick text.

  > Meet us over at the dog park.

  >>Uhhhhhh ... why?

  >>Girlie is playing.

  Kenny, Belle, and I are sitting on the bench watching Girlie run around with a couple of other dogs. “I had fun with you and Ken-man, JoJo. I wikes sleepin’ over at your house.”

  “I’m glad, sweets. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  She shoots me a finger gun and a wink, saying, “Otay, but next time, you sleep at my plwace. My daddy won’t mind.”

  Ooooo-kay then!

  A loud, piercing whistle pulls my attention away from Belle. I look in the direction of the noise to find Madden standing outside the fence.

  “Daddy, look at Kenny’s doggy doo, isn’t she the prettiest?” Belle exclaims, walking over to him with Girlie following her. Even animals get caught up in that little girl’s whirlwind.

  Madden looks at Girlie with a mixture of disgust and fear on his face. Is he afraid of dogs? Surely this big bad construction worker isn’t afraid of ‘man’s best friend’.

  “Come on out of there, Belle,” he barks, “Daddy needs hugs. I missed you.”

  Belle, making no move toward the fence, stands at Girlie’s side and strokes her back. “Know what I need, Daddy?” she asks, mischief in her eyes. “One of deese.” Jesus, I swear, every bit of color drains from his Madden’s face, and I have to take this opportunity to give him hell about it; he’s seen me sucking a banana for Christ’s sake.

  “What’s wrong, Mad?” I tease and offer him a wink. “Scared of a little puppy?” That seems to snap him out of it. He makes eye contact with me, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that serious.

  “You saying you want me dead, Jo?” he asks, and confusion seeps from me, what the fuck? As I open my mouth to say, what I have not a damn clue, he continues, “I’m allergic to dogs.”

  “How did I not know this? I don’t remember him having any allergies listed on his medical forms.”

  “You wouldn’t, darlin’. I’m allergic to cleanin’ up their shit and them randomly shovin’ their snouts where they don’t belong.” Madden pinches his eyes closed and visibly shudders, as if recalling a traumatic event.

  “Damn allwerges,” comes from my side, where Belle stands.

  “It’s okay, Belle,” Kenny assures her. “You can share Girlie.”

  I leash Girlie and exit the dog park with Kenny and Belle in tow. Madden stays as far away from the canine as he can. As we make it to my Jeep to get Belle’s seat, Girlie comes up close to Madden’s backside, her snout pressing again
st the seam of his pants. He yelps loudly and clenches his ass cheeks together, swatting at sweet Girlie. “Jo, I’m warnin’ you. Keep that damn dog away from my ass!”

  “Okay, okay! Sheeesh! What crawled up your butt?”

  He narrows his eyes at me, looking quite disturbed. “Get your mutt in the Jeep, and then we’ll talk, okay, darlin’?”

  I don’t appreciate Madden’s tone right now, but instead of arguing in front of the kids, I put Girlie in the back of the Jeep then snap Ken-man in his car seat. I check the back seat to make sure Belle hasn’t left any of her belongings and turn back to find Madden leaned against his truck with his arms crossed over his chest.

  I hand him Belle’s treasures from the pumpkin patch yesterday, and his eyes finally soften as he links his fingers through mine. His thumb strokes back and forth over my flesh as he says, “You good, Jo?”

  I snatch my hand away, not liking the electricity that zings through me at his touch. “Yeah, I’m good,” I mutter to him. “You good, Mad?”

  “Right as rain, darlin’.”

  I don’t understand this energy that’s passing between us, but I push it away and focus.

  “The kids had the best time yesterday. Thank you for letting me steal my new BFF for the day.” I smile and wink at him.

  “BFF, huh?” he asks, chuckling. His demeanor seems to shift quickly.

  “Yeah,” I tell him, “I’m going to need to steal her again next Saturday too.”

  “That so?” He laughs, so I know he has no clue where I’m going with this. I hope this doesn’t blow up in my face.

  “That’s so,” I tell him. “We have a tea party to crash.”

  His smile fades, and I know the next words out of his mouth are going to be a protest. I handle it in true Jordan fashion, balls to the wall. I throw my hand up. “Stop. I know you’re gonna tell me that I don’t have to do that, it’s not my place, you will handle it … yada, yada, yada.” He smiles and shakes his head, so I continue like the train wreck I can be. “I’m taking my new BFF to have tea with all those snooty mommies and little girls, and we are going to crash that party and make it our bitch.”