Free Sugar on Top by Marina Adair Page B

how to make the rise-and-shine cake magical, like Mom’s?”
    “No.” He used to think that just about every damn thing about Tawny was magical, but just like her breakfast cake, Cal never figured out the right ingredients. “But we can figure it out. Plus, I’m killer on the griddle.”
    Okay, he was killer on the BBQ but they were pretty much the same thing, right?
    “I thought you were going fishing with Uncle Jace this weekend.”
    “Are you kidding, and miss the chance to hang with my favorite girl?” Payton came first. Always. Jace would understand. “Plus, your uncle snores and isn’t nearly as cute as you are.”
    A small smile tugged at his daughter’s lips. That was more like it. “You’d have to wear pajamas. All the moms are.”
    “Do my Sponge Bob boxers count?” He tugged a lock of her hair.
    “Gross.” She giggled, shoving playfully at his chest. “Although I bet Kendra’s mom wouldn’t mind. She was hoping you’d take Mom’s place on Saturday. She’s working the bacon station.”
    Shit. Kendra’s mom was tall, stacked, and the kind of blonde that came from a bottle. She was also twice divorced and extremely interested, something she’d made painfully clear the last few times Cal had dropped Kendra off. Not that Cal was. Cal wasn’t interested in anything more than two adults enjoying a few hours of fun. And one-nighters with mothers of his daughter’s friends was a bad daddy move.
    Not that kissing Glory yesterday had been a good move. It had been downright stupid, because for the first time since Cal’s ex-wife had walked out on him, there was interest on both sides. And a whole hell of a lot of chemistry.
    “Yeah, well, I’m going to have the prettiest girl in all of Sugar on my arm.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Payton’s forehead.
    “Oh, and one more thing, no glaring at the boys.” Cal felt his jaw clench. Payton must have noticed, too, because she leveled him an icy glare. “We are supposed to be feeding them for the big scrimmage and no one is going to come over if you’re giving them the look .”
    “What look?”
    “The one you’re wearing right now that says, ‘If anyone so much as looks twice at my baby, I will straighten them out like a piece of wire.’”
    Cal was pretty sure his look was more of an “eyes on your own package or lose it” kind of look. In any case, that look was the only thing keeping boys from swarming his front porch with flowers and empty promises.
    Payton reached up and mushed her fingers into his forehead, pulling and massaging until she ironed out the furrow of his frown. Her other hand tugged Cal’s lips up into a smile. “That’s how you have to look. Promise? For me?”
    “You’re killing me.” Cal looked up at the ceiling. “But yes, I promise to try , if you promise to go upstairs and find the other half of your outfit so we can head out. Don’t want to be late for the first day of school.”
    “I’m not wearing this to school,” Payton said, offering up a sweet smile. “I was just trying it on.”
    Thank God.
    “For Miss Peach nomination day next week,” she said as though that were going to happen. “Varsity girls have to wear our cheer gear to school on the first day.”
    He liked the sound of that. Not the cheer part, or the varsity part for that matter, but the uniform part. Ever since Payton hung up her State’s Champion softball mitt for a set of red and blue pom-poms, Cal’s life had gone from manageable single-dad status to full-on panic researching all-girl schools. But her uniform was swishy sweatpants, a T-shirt with the school mascot on it—a giant sheep—and a matching jacket. He should know; she’d pretty much lived in it all summer, telling anyone who would listen how she was the only underclassman on the varsity cheer team.
    Payton slid her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You know, show school spirit.”
    “Uh-huh.” What he knew was that his little