Dad Bod (Under Construction 1)

“It’s about time you show your face!” Laney chides as I enter the gate to her backyard. She taps her watch and looks up at me. “Where ya been?”

“Sorry, Lan. I had a baking fiasco.” I thrust the baking pan toward her and duck for cover, knowing my brownies will be shoved to the side table. “You spurred this cookout on me last minute, and I was so rushed I burned the first batch.

“Oh, Jo. What did you make? Please, not those horrid chocolate chip kale cookies again.”

“No, it’s just brownies.” I smile, hiding my lie. “Okay, chickpea brownies, but you have to find balance in the macros, Lan.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “You act like I’m trying to poison all of you, when, in fact, I’m simply trying to save your waistlines and kidney function.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jo, leave the diet tips at Dumb Belles and let us eat our grease-ladden cheeseburgers and bratwurst in peace. You don’t wanna be uninvited, do you?” Laney laughs as she places the pan on the table next to … oh my, is that.

“Who brought cupcakes?” And from Mabel’s I’d bet. Damn it all to hell! I’ve already had my cheat treat for the week, and I’m far too busy for an extra five miles.

“I’m not sure, really, but you should have one.” Laney unsnaps the lid and picks up a brownie, sniffing cautiously. Her nose curls in disgust as she turns to me. “Sorry, Jo, but I feel like I’m tortured by preschoolers enough through the week, and eating junk makes me feel like I’m living my life to the fullest. You understand, right? I mean, how do you ingest this shit? Do you enjoy it?”

Oh her dramatics.

I grab a plate and peruse over the selection of food. There are cheeseburgers, bratwursts, grilled chicken, baked beans, macaroni salad, potato salad, a fruit tray and all the burger toppings imaginable. I get creative, making a nice salad complete with grilled chicken, strawberries, and some roasted almonds from the snack pack I keep in my crossbody. The perfect salad can be savory and tasteful without dressing if you have the right ingredients. I grab a chickpea brownie and add it to a side plate for an after salad snack.

I wave at Carter, who is sitting around the fire pit with Maverick and a few other guys, and I notice that Madden is nowhere in sight. Which is odd. Carter raises his beer in greeting, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. I’ll regret asking because my friends have already been playing matchmaker between Madden and I, but it’s just odd that he’s not here. Carter’s like a brother to him, and I know any time he and Laney have a get-together Madden is sure to be present.

Okay…

So I know how that sounds, but that’s not what I mean. I didn’t come in anticipation that I could see Madden outside of the gym. I don’t want to see him outside of the gym. I will keep telling myself that until it sticks. I came to enjoy some good food and great company.

I follow Laney over to the patio where Bryn and a few other women are already eating. Bryn has the body of a ballerina, and although she takes health and fitness very serious, she has a different metabolism and body type than I do, so she can eat differently.

“Oh my heavens, Jo, you have to try a burger. It’s totally worth the calories. Sooooo gooood,” Bryn mumbles around a mouthful of beef. She certainly doesn’t eat as elegant as she dances. Her lips are coated in a sheen of grease, and mayonnaise is smeared across her cheek. It looks delicious, but… I look down at my salad and sigh. The fat girl in me could really go for a burger right now.

“Save it, Bryn. She’s suffering in silence with salad and chickpea brownies.” Laney shrugs, taking a swig of beer.

“Oooh, the chickpea brownies are my fave! I’ve been dying to get the recipe from you, Jo.”

“Damn it, Bryn, don’t encourage her any more than necessary!” Laney laughs. “You health nuts are making me nuts! If y’all wanna make brownies, make them with—"

“When was the last time you worked out, Lan? I haven’t seen you at the gym in forever.” I cut her off, knowing good and well how that statement would

end.

“Well my favorite trainer is maxed out on clients after taking on a hottie single dad, so I’m left lapping the cul-de-sac and my nightly cardio.” She winks, taking another swig of beer. I hold my hand up to stop her.

“Stop right there, let’s not get into that topic tonight, seriously. You’re far too generous with TMI.” I can’t have this discussion among strangers, and why does she feel the need to bring Madden into every conversation?

“Oh, honey, there’s far more filth in store for the night. Finish eating, and we’ll move this party inside.” Laney grins knowingly, and I’m scared to ask what tricks she has up her sleeve.

*~*

“Our newest toy in the upcoming winter line is the Coochie Creamer.”

“What in the ever loving hell is that?”

“That’s a clit stimulator,” Laney whispers.

What? There is no way that little piece of plastic would survive my body.

I can feel the heat spreading through my face. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and of course I’m intrigued.

Oh dear mother of God. My face flames beet red as Jules brandishes what looks to be a small handheld contraption that sucks the clit, stimulating the orgasm. Her sales pitch, not my personal opinion. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen anything like this, so obviously I couldn’t testify its power. I’m perfectly happy with my Amazon Prime Deal of the Day, $21.99 with free shipping vibrator with twenty pulsating patterns and ten speeds. It’s the vibrator that gives plenty bang for the buck, and that sucker is sturdy.

“Bryn, nobody told me this was a sex party! Did you know?”