Dad Bod Foreman (Dad Bod 2.0: Large And In Charge Series) by Ember Davis

  Copyright © 2023 Ember Davis

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, organizations or locals is entirely coincidental. The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  For permission requests, email Ember.A.Davis@gmail.com

  Contains explicit love scenes and adult language. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older.

  Cover Design: Elle Christensen at Clover Book Designs

  This book is available exclusively at Amazon.com. If you’ve obtained it anywhere else, you have an illegal copy.

  For the dad bod lovers. What isn’t there to love?

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  EPILOGUE

  DAD BOD 2.0: LARGE AND IN CHARGE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  OTHER BOOKS BY EMBER

  CHAPTER 1

  LAWSON

  Starting a new job is both exciting and nerve wracking for me. I know my crew will have it all under control and we’ll do the work that needs to be done correctly. The exciting part is getting to see something be built from nothing, even when we’re doing an addition like the one that we’re starting on today.

  I just want the customer to be happy with it and for everything to go as well as it can. At the end of the day, it all falls on my shoulders when something goes wrong. Most of the time it’s shit out of my control, but I’m still the one in charge.

  When I came out and assessed the property we’re starting on today, I suspected there might be some issues. It’s normal when we’re looking to put an addition on an older home. Things fall out of level, and you never know who did the work the first time. What if they didn’t have the same kind of respect for the craft my crew and I have?

  Regulations weren’t always what they are now, and we make sure we do the work right. Not everyone works that way, even now when they should. I can only hope things go as well as they can. We’ve built in a cushion in the budget and the schedule to ensure unforeseen problems can be dealt with.

  I’m still going to make sure everyone is happy when we’re done with the addition. My crew will feel pride in their work, which they have every day, and the homeowners will be happy and know they can enjoy the square footage they’re adding onto their house.

  I admit when I met the homeowners, a younger couple in love, I felt a pang of jealousy. They looked so fucking happy, especially as the husband rested his hand on the small baby bump his wife was sporting. They bought the house, not thinking about the future and thinking they would move if they ever had a family.

  Mrs. Norris got a dreamy look on her face when she explained, “Once I found out about the baby, I knew I didn’t want to move. This house has always felt like home, but it’s not big enough for the way our family is going to grow.”

  Mr. Norris joked, “At least we thought to get a lot with a huge yard. It gives us some room for the house to grow with us.”

  I recognized the look on Mr. Norris’ face. It was the look of someone head over heels in love with his woman. It’s the same look I’ve seen on my twin brother’s face. Lincoln would move heaven and earth for Willow.

  I wasn’t sure about the love between my brother and his wife at first. It seemed like the whole relationship moved so fast, even though I’d seen the same thing happen to Jameson, a guy on my crew, and Jaxson, one of the owners of J&J Construction. I was willing to watch Jameson and Jaxson fall fast, but when it happened to my own brother, I had some concerns and wasn’t shy about voicing them.

  Now I know Willow is the perfect woman for Lincoln, and we’ve become close since they got together. I’m happy for my brother.

  That doesn’t mean I’m not a little green around the edges about it. I don’t know if I’ll be lucky enough to find the same kind of love. It’s not like I haven’t looked, but I haven’t met a woman who doesn’t mind wood shavings being tracked into the house, dirty and calloused hands, and my work hours. I’m the first one on site and the last one to leave, not to mention the work I do offsite like meeting new clients to do estimates and meeting with Jaxson and James.

  I rely on my crew to do most of the work, but I’m not the kind of guy who can sit back and not get my hands in on the action too. I love building. Making something from nothing gives me a soul deep feeling of satisfaction.

  As the guys start to filter into the space we have set aside for materials while looking over the plans and what we have on hand, I give them each a chin lift. This is the best part of the day—the calm before the storm. We’re here to do a job and we’ll be able to see progress every day.

  The things I’ve had to do to get to this point, like getting the plans and permits situated, can sometimes be a headache. It’s all worth it when we can start making it all happen. Then in a matter of weeks, we’ll see it completed if all goes according to plan.

  Griffin comes up to me and slaps me on the shoulder with a big grin on his face. “Morning boss man,” he teases me, “how’s it going?”

  I shake my head at him and fight myself from grinning. Between Griffin and Paxton, there are always jokes on site. They have a way of keeping the mood light, especially Paxton. If they weren’t such hard workers, it would be a problem, but they aren’t pranksters. Well, Paxton knows when and when not to pull his shit.

  For the most part.

  There are times when he seems to forget he’s here to do a job when he’s giving someone else on the crew shit. I try not to show how fucking funny I find it, but it’s difficult.

  As much as I try and maintain some sort of decorum considering I’m the boss when I’m on site, I do consider the crew I work closely with to be my brothers. I’ve done a lot of jobs with Court, Jameson, Griffin, and Paxton. We work well together, and we know how to get a rise out of each other.

  Except for Court who always seems to be as cool as a cucumber.

  I give Griffin a chin lift and slap his back. “How’s Salem doing?”

  A look of pride covers Griffin’s face. His sister, Salem, was a later in life surprise for his parents and there’s a bit of an age gap between them. He turned 33 not long ago and Salem is finishing up her junior year in college.

  “She’s doing so damn good,” he gushes. “She’s always calling me and sounding excited about whatever production she’s working on.” He shakes his head as if he can’t believe it himself. “I should have known, considering how much of a drama queen she’s always been, that she would find a home in theater.”

  I chuckle and smirk at him. I’ve known Griffin for a few years now and met Salem more than once before she went off to college. She always had a certain flare about her, and I’m not surprised about her field of study at all.

  “She only has a year left. Is she coming home this summer?”

  He shrugs and gives a chin lift to Paxton who is over giving Court shit even though the man is only staring him down. “I don’t know. I think she’s looking for an internship. I hope she comes home. It might be the last summer she has to be a kid, ya know?”

  We share a look and then shrug. I didn’t go to college and neither did Griffin. It wasn’t something we were interested in. From some of his stories, Griffin was more than a little rough around the edges when he graduated high school—that whole wrong side of the tracks bullshit that sometimes gets people down.

  He made sure Salem had more of a chance than he ever did and helps to pay part of her college tuition. I have to admire a man like him.

  Before he steps away for us to get the day started, he grumbles, “As long as she stays away from guys, I’ll be happy.”

  I swallow the bark of laughter that wants to work its way up my throat because I have my doubts that she’s stayed away from all men. I’d never go there, but Salem has grown up into a beautiful woman. I’m sure she has the attention of guys at her school. Isn’t that where you’re supposed to have fun and explore?

  I hope for Griffin’s sake, and his sanity, that she’s smart about it. I don’t doubt she is. She seems to have a good head on her shoulders and recognizes the gift she’s been given when it comes to her education.

  The day starts out just as it should. We need to get the ground ready for the addition’s foundation and then we need to get it poured before anything else can happen. We aren’t going to demo anything on the old portion of the structure until we’re ready to tie it into the new addition because the homeowners both work and will still be living inside while we do the work.

  I’m glad the weather is working with us, and we’re able to get started on this construction. It might change and I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a little more snow this month, but I can still feel that the full rush of spring is right around the corner.

  The more we work, the warmer it is for us and I’m grateful as hell for it. We work together quickly, and we’ll be able to get the foundation done tomorrow. Then it won’t be long before we’re putting up the framing and enclosing the space. That will make the working conditions much better.

  I can only hope we won’t disturb the neighborhood too much. Construction isn’t exactly quiet, but most people should be out and working during the day when we’re getting our shit done at the site.

  I rub my hands together, pushing them inside of my coat after pulling the beanie down on my head, when I feel like someone is watching me. I look over my shoulder at the house next door, but I only catch the slight movement of curtains.

  I shrug it off because it was probably someone’s cat or something. As I walk the site, double checking all the measurements, I go over the plan to get the foundation poured tomorrow. The weather should be perfect for it—not too cold so it won’t cure and not too hot that I want to murder my crew.

  As we start to clean up for the day, Paxton gives me a nod. “Is the party at Aces still on this weekend?”

  I’m surprised he waited all day to ask me, and I can’t help but smirk. The nightclub where my twin, Lincoln, runs security under the eye of Higgins Security, is celebrating their second anniversary of their opening night.

  “Yeah.” I look around my crew and ask, “Are you bozos still coming?”

  Paxton scoffs and Court flips me off. Jameson speaks first, “Monday is so excited. She went shopping with some of the ladies the other day for a new outfit.”

  Since he did a photoshoot with Ellie Banks, which was a stranger shoot and where he met Monday and fell in love, he’s gotten pulled into this wild family that includes the tattoo artists at Banks Ink., the people of Higgins Security, and the rock band Suburban Outcasts. Monday sometimes works with Ellie on photoshoots since she’s a make-up artist.

  It's that connection which got Lincoln his job and led him to his wife, Willow.

  I turn around and look at the house next door, feeling like someone’s watching me again. I don’t see anyone, not even movement this time. My gut tightens, as if I should be aware of something, as if I should know what is happening. I don’t and force myself to focus back on my crew.

  “If you think I’d miss a chance to go to Aces and scope out the fine women who go there, then I think we need to take you to the hospital, boss man,” Paxton jokes.

  I grunt, the uneasy feeling not leaving me alone. I fight myself to not look at the house again and it’s difficult as hell. If the guys notice, they don’t say anything.

  We make sure everything is cleaned up and there’s a path for the concrete truck. It’s going to be a tight fit, but thankfully, the gate that faces the alley should allow us to get the truck close enough. Once we get the concrete poured, we’ll sure up the foundation and then the real fun can begin.

  I look at the site and can almost see the structure as it’ll be when everything is done.

  As we’re heading out for the day, Griffin’s voice is curious, “Want to go and grab a beer with us?”

  “Nah, I’m having dinner with Linc, Willow, and my niece tonight.” They get big grins on their faces. I’m a damn proud uncle and not at all ashamed of it.

  I admit, I was worried about the age gap between Willow and my brother at first, but now I can’t imagine anyone else being as perfect for my brother as Willow is. They’re so fucking happy and now, after they’ve brought their daughter into this world, love radiates from them.

  Before I leave for the day, something twists in my gut and I find myself glancing at the house next door, feeling like I’m missing something. I shake the thought away and wave goodbye to my crew as I slide into my truck and head to my place to clean up before joining my brother and his family for dinner.

  Maybe one day I’ll have a family like he does.

  CHAPTER 2

  MADISON

  I’ve tried it all and nothing is working. I don’t think I’m going to be able to handle it anymore. It’s too much. I need to be able to concentrate and I can’t with all this fucking racket.

  I thought it would be okay. I really did. They lulled me into a false sense of security when they started the construction project next door.

  The first day it started, the noise wasn’t so bad. They worked a few full days, and the noise level was completely manageable. I put some headphones on and was able to concentrate.

  Then they were gone.

  I knew it was probably wishful thinking to entertain the notion the construction was done. There were still tools around and the concrete slab was a dead giveaway.

  I was just hopeful it wouldn’t get worse when they came back.

  Now, I know nothing about concrete, but I’ve watched enough DIY and home improvement shows to figure out quickly that the concrete was poured for a foundation, and it doesn’t do whatever it’s supposed to do overnight. That wasn’t difficult to figure out.

  I should have done some research, but I was working, and I figured it wouldn’t get louder than it did the first day.

  That first day was the same day I noticed one man in particular. Not just any man, but one with broad shoulders and strong looking arms. Those aren’t the only things which caught my attention. He also had a little extra around the middle.

  He looked like he was in charge as well. I only allowed myself to look out the window a few times and I’m sure he didn’t notice me. I was quick, practicing my stealth skills.

  Skills I don’t really have. I don’t know how he didn’t catch me looking at him. I’m not going to win any awards for being sneaky.

  I’ve spent so much of my life just stomping along and making myself known. It was the only way I would have gotten attention with my three older brothers. They were always on the go and made friends wherever they went.

  My brothers played sports and were good at it. They got a lot of attention from my parents because of it. Growing up I resented it and needed a place to retreat when it all got to be too much. Reading kept me from being too lonely and kept my mind occupied when I was being dragged to practices or games.

  The pages of a book gave me refuge and I’ve never forgotten it. How could I? I still read all the time. I’ve built my career around it because I figured it was a way to monetize one of my passions. Not only reading, but language and storytelling.

  I might have spent a lot of time with my nose stuck in a book, but dealing with my brothers also gave me a backbone and a thick, sarcastic skin. I had to know how to throw elbows or I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have eaten much for a few years there.

  They weren’t going to take it easy on me and I didn’t expect them to. I had to throw barbs and find my voice or else I would have been steamrolled. I might not have gotten a lot of attention or time for anything else I might have ever been interested in, but I wasn’t invisible.

  Today, the noise canceling headphones isn’t enough. It’s more than the noise of the saws and hammers. I swear I can feel every noise coming up through the floor and it’s driving me up the fucking wall.

  I’m trying to focus but I’ve read the same paragraph over three times. This isn’t going to work. My clients rely on me to be good at my job. They send me their little book babies to edit, and I pride myself in doing it right the first time.

  I love working with independent authors who have chosen to self-publish because they have such a love for the books they’re writing. I’ve edited all genres of books, but romance is my favorite and I’ve carved out a nice client list filled with indie romance authors.

  I want to keep them happy and if I can’t concentrate not only will the quality of my work suffer, but I’m going to start missing my deadlines. That shit can’t happen in my world. I can’t be the reason for one of my authors to miss their publication date.

  When I start reading the same paragraph for a fourth time, I let out a small scream and rip the headphones off my head before I turn to glare towards the back wall of my office where I know the construction next door is taking place. None of the windows in this room face that way, so I can’t glare at them and hope the heat from my hate filled eyes is enough to make them stop what they’re doing.

 

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