Read Online Sugar's Twice as Sweet: Sugar, Georgia: Book 1 by Marina Adair - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marina Adair
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black, brand-new, and fit perfectly. Just like the other fifty identical pairs, which he got from one of his sponsors—a sponsor that he might lose.
Cal and Payton were already awake, most likely getting ready to head out for their annual father-daughter Disney World vacation. Payton was frying up some bacon and eggs. Cal sat at the table, staring at his daughter and looking surly.
“Uncle Brett,” Payton said a second before she launched herself into his arms.
“Morning, kiddo.” Brett pressed a kiss to his niece’s forehead, then leaned a hip against the counter.
“Thank God, you’re up. Please tell Daddy that wearing a two-piece is not the end of the world.” Payton’s voice rang with dramatic warning—if he sided with Cal it would be the end of her world.
“I don’t think he has the body to pull off dental floss and triangles.” Problem was, Brett suddenly noticed that his niece did. When the hell had that happened?
“Conversation’s over, Payton, so drop it,” Cal said wearily.
“But it’s already packed.”
“Easy. Unpack it.”
“I think something is burning.” Brett jerked his head toward the smoke coming off the skillet.
“Grandma’s teaching me how to make Daddy’s favorite breakfast,” Payton explained as she walked back to the stove and, pushing Brett aside as if he weighed as much as Joie’s rat dog, flipped the bacon. “I made the first batch of biscuits.”
Brett had tried some of her biscuits the other morning, which was why he was skipping them today. The girl was a disaster in the kitchen, but Hattie was determined to make a southern lady out of her, which included mastering all of the secrets in the McGraw recipe box.
“Now, Daddy,” she said, dragging the word out until Brett considered skipping breakfast altogether. “About—”
“No means no.” Cal’s eyes went wide, then hard. “Remember that!”
Payton rolled hers. “All my friends wear two-pieces.”
A few months ago, her standard had been cleats, scabbed knees, and a ponytail. Today she wore a flowery sundress, cowboy boots, and a sweet smile that said she was a proper cowgirl. A proper cowgirl who was going to have every young buck this side of the Mississippi knocking down her door.
“They also wear makeup and scraps of denim they think pass for appropriate attire.”
“Why are you being like this? I’m thirteen.”
“Twelve.”
“Almost thirteen. And old enough to choose my own clothes.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I had to muck the stalls for over a month to earn enough money to buy it, which means I should get to wear it.”
Brett filled up a mug of coffee and bit back a grin. Damn, that girl had Cal’s number. He was already squirming in his chair, ready to cave.
Payton gave Brett a quick wink and set down a plate—eggs over easy and heavy on the bacon. “Right, Uncle Brett?”
Now it was Brett’s turn to squirm. He hated being in the middle. When it came to Payton he was normally a yes man, but looking at his brother, bloodshot eyes, gripping his mug as if it were the neck of some kid who had the balls to ask his daughter out, Brett felt sorry for the guy.
He took a bite of bacon. Chewed once and forced himself to swallow. The bacon and the grimace. “Thanks.”
Payton’s phone chirped. She glanced at the screen and let out a dramatic sigh. “Ever since your video went viral, all my friends are begging to come over and meet you.” It chimed again. “Kendra wants to know if she can bring her mom?”
Brett felt the tips of his ears heat. “Listen, about that, honey.” He stopped. How the hell was he going to explain to his niece that the reason he’d ended up baring his butt to the world was the same reason she couldn’t wear a bikini. Boobs made men do stupid things.
“Daddy already explained it.”
“Did he, now?” Brett was interested in just what his brother had told her.
“Which is why I should be able to express myself.” She folded her little-girl
Cal and Payton were already awake, most likely getting ready to head out for their annual father-daughter Disney World vacation. Payton was frying up some bacon and eggs. Cal sat at the table, staring at his daughter and looking surly.
“Uncle Brett,” Payton said a second before she launched herself into his arms.
“Morning, kiddo.” Brett pressed a kiss to his niece’s forehead, then leaned a hip against the counter.
“Thank God, you’re up. Please tell Daddy that wearing a two-piece is not the end of the world.” Payton’s voice rang with dramatic warning—if he sided with Cal it would be the end of her world.
“I don’t think he has the body to pull off dental floss and triangles.” Problem was, Brett suddenly noticed that his niece did. When the hell had that happened?
“Conversation’s over, Payton, so drop it,” Cal said wearily.
“But it’s already packed.”
“Easy. Unpack it.”
“I think something is burning.” Brett jerked his head toward the smoke coming off the skillet.
“Grandma’s teaching me how to make Daddy’s favorite breakfast,” Payton explained as she walked back to the stove and, pushing Brett aside as if he weighed as much as Joie’s rat dog, flipped the bacon. “I made the first batch of biscuits.”
Brett had tried some of her biscuits the other morning, which was why he was skipping them today. The girl was a disaster in the kitchen, but Hattie was determined to make a southern lady out of her, which included mastering all of the secrets in the McGraw recipe box.
“Now, Daddy,” she said, dragging the word out until Brett considered skipping breakfast altogether. “About—”
“No means no.” Cal’s eyes went wide, then hard. “Remember that!”
Payton rolled hers. “All my friends wear two-pieces.”
A few months ago, her standard had been cleats, scabbed knees, and a ponytail. Today she wore a flowery sundress, cowboy boots, and a sweet smile that said she was a proper cowgirl. A proper cowgirl who was going to have every young buck this side of the Mississippi knocking down her door.
“They also wear makeup and scraps of denim they think pass for appropriate attire.”
“Why are you being like this? I’m thirteen.”
“Twelve.”
“Almost thirteen. And old enough to choose my own clothes.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I had to muck the stalls for over a month to earn enough money to buy it, which means I should get to wear it.”
Brett filled up a mug of coffee and bit back a grin. Damn, that girl had Cal’s number. He was already squirming in his chair, ready to cave.
Payton gave Brett a quick wink and set down a plate—eggs over easy and heavy on the bacon. “Right, Uncle Brett?”
Now it was Brett’s turn to squirm. He hated being in the middle. When it came to Payton he was normally a yes man, but looking at his brother, bloodshot eyes, gripping his mug as if it were the neck of some kid who had the balls to ask his daughter out, Brett felt sorry for the guy.
He took a bite of bacon. Chewed once and forced himself to swallow. The bacon and the grimace. “Thanks.”
Payton’s phone chirped. She glanced at the screen and let out a dramatic sigh. “Ever since your video went viral, all my friends are begging to come over and meet you.” It chimed again. “Kendra wants to know if she can bring her mom?”
Brett felt the tips of his ears heat. “Listen, about that, honey.” He stopped. How the hell was he going to explain to his niece that the reason he’d ended up baring his butt to the world was the same reason she couldn’t wear a bikini. Boobs made men do stupid things.
“Daddy already explained it.”
“Did he, now?” Brett was interested in just what his brother had told her.
“Which is why I should be able to express myself.” She folded her little-girl
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