Dad Bod (Under Construction 1)

I can’t bring Casey back. She’s not good for Belle.

How do I tamp down Belle’s fears that her daddy will leave her like her momma did? Belle was only two when Casey left, so she doesn’t remember much more than one day her momma was there, then the next she wasn’t. In the recess of her small mind, she feels that loss, the abandonment, and that fear is consuming her.

I run along the shoreline, the cool water splashin’ up around my ankles helping to keep my body cool. My rampant thoughts grow louder than the bass of the music, and I run until my legs are weak and my chest is tight and breathless, trying to outrun the problems I can’t solve. I collapse onto the ground to catch my breath, sand stickin’ to my sweaty skin. Staring up at the sky, the sun hidden beneath the clouds, the panic attack turns to disgruntled anger.

“Fuckin’ Laney. Why the hell would you not give me a heads-up? Why would you put my baby girl through this shit? You knew, Lan. You fuckin’ knew Belle had no momma to bring her to your fuckin’ grand tea party or whatever shit this is! FUCK!!” Standing, I lace my fingers behind my head and continue to walk the shoreline, my breathing staggering with anger.

I can go about this two ways: ignore the tea party horse shit, or I guess buy a fuckin’ costume and be a princess for a day. What the ever-lovin’ hell am I supposed to wear? That’s not really a solution, is it? It’s a mother-daughter tea party, so I don’t exactly have the right hardware to attend. I could ask Momma to go with Belle, and she’d likely have no problem doing so, but she’s Belle’s grammy—not her mother. I have to stop placing parental responsibility on Momma’s lap and figure this out on my own.

I make my way to the truck and grab a bottle of water from the cooler in the back, dumping it over my head before grabbing a second to drink.

Climbing in the cab of my truck, I find my phone still on the mount, the notification light flickering. Damn it. I never leave my phone behind simply in case Belle needs me. Fuck anything or anyone else right now because my only concern is my kid. Checking the notifications, I’m surprised there’s a missed call and a couple of texts from Jordan.

Yes, my heart races.

Yes, sweat beads at my forehead.

And it’s not because I ran two miles down the beach, or the fact that I’m pissed as shit fuck at life.

It’s because Jordan Williams has me by the damn ball-sack, and she doesn’t even know it.

>>Hey, Mad.

>>Tried calling, but I’m sure you’re on a job site.

>>I’m just gonna ask outright.

Damn. Jordan’s one of those one-liners. Must not know what a paragraph is. Or maybe she thinks I’m too incompetent to process more than one sentence at a time.

>>Can I have your kid for the weekend?

>>I promise to return her in the same condition I receive her in.

>>Okay, I realize I’m talking about a kid as if she’s a package or product, or not a human. Sorry.

There are more messages, but just for the sake of hearing Jordan’s voice, I press dial.

“Madden!” The excitement in her voice hits me right in the gut.

“Excited much, darlin’?”

“YES! Actually, I am. I’m glad you called!” Yes, I do have to silently urge my cock to lay still.

“Missin’ me?”

Did she just sigh? All breathy and—fuck. Immediate hard-on.

“So I know it’s a lot to ask, but Erin and I are taking Kenny to Noble Farm, and I’d like to bring Belle with us.”

“The what? I’ve never heard of it before?”

“You’re kiddin’ me, right? I mean, this is a family tradition for us.”

Yeah, I’m still not followin’ her.

“It’s a pumpkin patch just outside of Pooler.”

“Annnd … you want Belle to go; why?”