Dad Bod (Under Construction 1)

“You know what? I think it’d be best to get what I’m looking for at a different gym that maybe has qualified trainers—not sassy little princesses who would be best fit at a beauty pageant and not in a gym with all this heavy equipment. I’ll pay the damn contract fee and take my business elsewhere. No shits given here, sunshine, because I’ll be damned if you’re gonna look down your nose and belittle me.”

Still in that Ice Queen stance, only her eyes move as they slide into thin slits, shooting daggers in my direction. I brush past her, without a goodbye or a fuck you, because she ain’t worth the extra breath it’s gonna take to walk my fat ass back to my truck.

CHAPTER THREE

MADDEN

I open the gate to Carter’s backyard, eager to see my daughter. Her jovial laughter rents the air with a squeal of excitement. “Push me higher, Unk!” She giggles. “Higher!”

“You’re gonna fly into the sky if he pushes you any higher, Belle.” Her head whips in my direction, and as soon as the swing comes forward, she jumps. Luckily I’m there in time to catch her in my embrace, and I twirl her full circle before setting her hefty little tail to the ground.

“Daddy, Unk has been here with me all evening. Where you been?” she asks, her hand on her hips, that little foot tapping the ground in accusation.

“Daddy had a meeting, sweet girl. But I’m here now. What do you want to get into this evening?”

She taps her finger on her chin in deep thought. “Well, Unk is making my favorite, chef’s mac and cheese, so I think we should have supper here and swim.” She winks at me as she bounces over to the jungle gym, this time climbing up on the slide.

“Cold beer, brother?” Carter asks, popping the top on one.

“Nah.” I pat my gut. “Watching my figure for swimsuit season,” I kid. We take a seat on the patio. I lean back on a sigh, and Laney joins us, handing me a bottled water. I uncap the bottle, taking a large swig.

“Mad, did you even go to the gym?”

I nod. “Yep.”

“Dressed like that?” Carter chides, his face falling in disbelief.

“Yes, Carter, dressed like I’d been slingin’ drywall all day, because guess what, shithole—I was, indeed, slingin’ drywall all day.”

“Ooooh-kay, Hulk, don’t shred the shirt on us.”

“So how’d it go?” Laney asks, a hopeful note in her voice.

“Epic fuckin’ fail. No… I’d say crashed, burned, and rolled into the pavement by a steamroller on a ninety degree day.”

“Damn, son!” Carter laughs.

“What was the issue, Mad?”

I shake my head, embarrassed being an understatement. “Well Jordan, my trainer … uhm, has a clit, not a dick.”

Cue the bursts of ear-splintering laughter. Laney’s doubled over at the knees, her face beet red, tears running down her cheeks. Carter laughs so hard he appears to be struggling to breathe, his hand clamped over his side as if the laughter simply can’t be contained and may erupt from his side at any moment. Side-splitting laughter. Laney’s hand beats her knee repeatedly. Oh, cue the knee slap. Shit’s done got real.

“You owe me, fucker!” Laney bursts out, slapping the tabletop.

Carter reaches into his back pocket and retrieves his wallet, withdrawing a crisp $100 bill and places it in his wife’s hand.

“You assholes knew?”

What the ever-loving hell?

“I’m sorry, Mad, but this was too easy!” Laney laughs, tucking the money into her bra.

“So what was the bet?”

“$100 that you would fold before you even broke the sweat,” Carter replies, taking a sip of his beer.

“And I guess you bet against me, huh, taint sucker?”