Page 3 of Her Honey Pot (Sweet Treats 3)

She thrusts her cell at me, and I look down at the photo involuntarily. What? What the hell? That’s my dad taking a selfie of himself! What on Earth is he doing?

Not only that, but Brent’s taken a shower selfie wearing nothing but a towel in front of the mirror. His six pack abs are on display, and his hair’s wet, but literally, there’s nothing between the viewer and his bulge except a small piece of cotton that looks like it’s about to fall off his hips.

“Oh my god!” I scream. “What the fuck is my dad doing?”

“Relax, relax,” Jessica chortles. “Seriously, Marni. That stick up your butt must be really big if it hurts so much.”

“NO!” I scream again, practically frothing at the mouth. “Why is Brent posting pictures like this? Where did he even get this pic? What is he thinking?”

Jess merely continues staring at her phone, licking her lips hungrily.

“Well, it’s obvious that he just got out of the shower and is taking a selfie to show off his physique. He’s got a great physique, like I mentioned, Marn. His bod is HOT.”

“Yeah, but why is he posting it on Facebook!” I scream. “What is he thinking? Our neighbors like that little old lady down the block, what’s her name, can see this!”

Jess merely shakes her head, her eyes still glued admiringly to the screen.

“Did you know your dad has a trail of hair leading from his navel downwards? I wonder where it goes?” she muses in a dreamy voice.

“Jess! Please snap out of it! What is going on?”

Finally, she looks up and rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, get a grip Marni. It’s not that bad. Me and your dad are friends on Facebook, and we joined a group called Dads and Daughters. It’s a private Facebook group so only the members can see photos that are shared. Don’t worry, your elderly neighbors aren’t getting a peek of this hunk of manly goodness.”

But I’m already a whirlwind of action. I can’t believe this is happening. Quickly, I stuff things into my backpack haphazardly and grab my green water bottle, the liquid inside sloshing.

“I have to go,” I say shortly before running out of my friend’s room. “This is a crisis!”

“Okay bye!” Jess sings. “Try not to freak out! It’s no big deal. I know you’ll get an A on that test tomorrow!”

But I’m not listening. Instead, I’m racing home to confront my dad about his shower selfie. What was Brent thinking? My head whirls. Seriously, the world must be going insane if even my dad’s posting risqué photos of himself on line. What possible justification could he have? I’m about to find out.

2

Marni

My feet pound up the steps of the porch and I fling the front door open. We live in a small town where most people don’t lock their front doors, and we’re no exception. The swing door comes crashing into my butt, but I ignore it.

“Dad!” I scream into the depths of our help. “Dad! Where are you?”

My dad appears from the back hall, still toweling his hair. Thankfully, Brent is fully dressed in his usual plaid shirt and jeans. He has an alarmed look on his face.

“What? What is it Marni? Is everything okay?”

I plunk my bag down and begin spitting needles.

“What were you thinking Dad, posting a selfie of yourself wearing nothing but a towel? You’re not some reality star show who’s baring it all in the hopes of getting famous! You’re a long-haul trucker with a career, not to mention kids! That’s ME! What were you thinking? Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.”

He looks confused.

“But where did you see the photo?” he asks carefully.

“On Facebook!” I scream at him. I must look like a crazed woman with my eyes bugging out and a vein popping from my forehead. My head feels like it’s going to explode, and I sense droplets of spit raining down on my forearms as I gesture frantically. “Jessica just showed me! She said you’re both members of some group called Dads and Daughters? What the hell kind of group is that? Why are you in it with Jessica too? It sounds gross and disgusting.”

My dad takes a deep breath, but to my surprise, he doesn’t deny any of it. Instead, he fixes me with a look.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t want you to find out like this. This is definitely premature, but why don’t you take a seat and I’ll explain it all?”

I stare at him coldly before flouncing to the couch and plopping myself down.

“There is no possible explanation for what you did, but fine. I’m listening.”

Brent seats himself across from me, running a big hand through his silvering hair. Jessica was right. My dad is a good looking guy with a rugged, masculine appearance. His features are chiseled, and the laugh lines make him look like a man of experience. His shoulders are broad, and like I mentioned, Brent works out a lot because his job requires it.

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