Dad Bod (Under Construction 1)

“Sweaty clothes, darlin’.” He winks and closes the door.

Fuckity-fuckity-fuck. I take a deep breath and push open the door just enough to slide my body through.

This will be Madden’s third weigh-in since he first came to Dumb Belles, and while the transformation is noticeable in the muscle definition and narrow V of his waist, seeing this number will not only help me adjust his regimen, but prove that his hard work and dedication have paid off.

“Ready?” I step up to the scale and wait for Madden to step on.

“Don’t tell me. Chart it and let it go, darlin’.”

“You don’t wanna know?”

“Sure as hell don’t.” He shakes his head. Pinchin’ his eyes closed, he steps up onto the scale, and I watch the numbers tick into place.

“Wait. Step off.” Without opening his eyes, he steps backward, and the scales rolls back to zero. “Now step on.”

I rip my phone out of the armband quickly and pull up Madden’s profile on the app. Shit.

“Okay, your silence is deafenin’. Can I get dressed now? This is—”

“Awkward?” I ask, tryin’ to keep the shock out of my voice.

“Exactly.”

Without another word, I turn and leave the room, trying to stow the excitement that Madden not only met his weight loss goal, but he fuckin’ squashed it.

I sit at my desk and pull Madden’s profile up on my laptop, calculating a new plan for maintenance. “Okay, I thought I could turn and leave without knowin’, but I fuckin’ can’t.” The sound of Madden’s voice draws my attention to where he’s standin’ with his arms braced against the doorjamb.

Damn. Why’s he gotta be so attractive?

“Thought you didn’t wanna know?” I bait him.

In three strides he’s in front of me, palms flat against the surface of the desk. Every sinewy cord of muscle is on display, glistenin’ in a sheen of perspiration from his run. “What fun is keepin’ secrets, Jo?” He quirks a brow, challenging me.

I close the laptop and make my way around the desk.

“Milestone one—twenty pounds. Milestone two—forty pounds. Milestone three—sixty pounds. But we never decided what you’d do if you exceeded that weight loss.”

“Exceeded?” The shocked expression on Madden’s face brings me great pleasure.

I nod slowly, a pleased smirk on my face. “Seventy-five pounds lost—so I’m decidin’ for you. I think I deserve a special treat for whippin’ you into shape. I’ll see you at seven.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MADDEN

“I brought cupcakes!” Jo chimes as I open the front door.

Belle nearly knocks her backward as she lurches forward and wraps her arms around Jordan’s waist. “Oh, Healthy Lady, yous made my night. Daddy cooked a dolphin and wittle twees for dinner, and he says I has to eat it all or I get no snack.”

Jordan’s face wrinkles in confusion as she looks from Belle to me. “Dolphin and trees?” she asks, her lip twitching with a small smile.

“Yes! It’s so ‘sgustin’!” Belle’s nose curls up in disgust, her flair for the dramatics playin’ right into Jo’s hand.

“Mahi-mahi and steamed broccoli,” I cut in.

“Wow, Mad, you are totally livin’ this new lifestyle to the fullest. Before long, you won’t need me around anymore.”

“That could never happen,” I mutter under my breath as I close the door behind her.