The Daddy Arrangement (Sugar 101) Read online

  "Sweetheart, I'm not letting you take the smaller room. I'm going to grab your bag for you and bring it in, so you can get changed. No, don't say anything. That's what's happening."

  Pressing her lips together in an effort at total obedience she didn't understand, Keila smiled and nodded. Making eye contact with Brianna didn't even ground her. What was going on?

  Whispering, Keila glared at Bri, "How did you not know his stuff was in there? You said they hadn't been to the house."

  "I didn't think they had. Sorry. He doesn't mind switching and I told you to take it in the first place. Go with it. It's all good."

  "So not good," Keila hissed through gritted teeth.

  Brianna hugged her and headed to her bedroom, with a low giggle filling the air in her departure.

  "I'm so going to kill you," Keila hissed through clenched teeth at her friend's retreating back.

  "Now, that doesn't seem like a proper thank you for bringing your bag over."

  As she lifted her head to the ceiling and drew in a deep breath before facing him, Keila tried to pull it together so she didn't say anything else incredibly foolish. No one had tied her tongue and brain as much as Jack.

  She went for simple, "Thank you."

  It wasn't quite a scurry, but Keila did hustle her tail into the room and close the door behind her. When she leaned against the door, she had deep regret coursing through her about suggesting this night go on any longer. Not even bothering to unpack, again, she got out of the dress and pulled on sleep shorts and a fitted tank top. The sooner it started, the sooner it would end, and hopefully, she could pull herself out of the crazy she was spiraling down toward.

  "Come sit next to me. Michael is in the shower. What do you want to watch? How about a romantic comedy?"

  "No."

  "Okay, I thought it might be fun. Horror?"

  "No. I'll never get to sleep. How about Disney? Something nice and sweet."

  "Where the mother gets killed? Cause that pretty much happens in every movie in some form or fashion."

  "You're a nut. That's not true."

  "Totally is; think about it. Bambi, Cinderella, Snow White. Dead. Dead. Dead."

  "How about something from this decade?"

  "Lion King."

  "That was the father." Keila's laughter bubbled out. It was the first moment, since putting on her dress for dinner, that she felt like herself. She was simply hanging out with her friend and about to enjoy a movie.

  "You got me. Okay, you pick, and I'll get something to drink."

  "Hey, does Michael keep ice cream?"

  "I think so, I'll check. Do you care what flavor?"

  "As long as it's ice cream and none of that weird healthy crap, I don't care. Frozen yogurt is not ice cream."

  They finally decided on a comedy, one the girls were certain didn't have any random romance or bedroom scenes. Keila was adamant about it, and Brianna went along. It wasn't like the guys cared, either way, as they eventually ended up on one end of the extra-large, L-shaped couch with their heads together discussing their latest deal. Ice cream sat melted with two large spoons floating, while the guys had two bottles of imported beer in front of each of them. Everyone had relaxed and was looking forward to a nice Saturday afternoon of mini golf and another fabulous dinner. Even Keila seemed to settle. She and Brianna decided that when the guys got up to work out, they would get up and put some time into their schoolwork. In the back of her mind, Brianna knew it was best to come to that 'good' choice without prompting.

  Michael heard his girl's soft snores. She denied it vehemently, but the reality was his dainty dancer could cut wood with the best of them. The deeper she slept, the worse the sound. He needed to get her into bed.

  "Looks like they're both knocked out. I'm glad you're staying through the weekend. I know Julia's birthday can be a rough time and you didn't really want to come."

  "Shows how much you know. I actually started looking forward to it over the last few days. It's hard anywhere, so I've been working on not going out of my way for extra misery. I'm glad I came. Plus, I've enjoyed Keila's company. Don't give me that look. She's a sweet girl when she isn't jumping out of her skin with nerves. The last time a girl was that jittery around me, I was a star on the high school football team."

  "Looks like it feels good to remember. You know there's nothing wrong with it. Nobody expects you to live like a monk, except you."

  Jack couldn't exactly put forth any denials to what his friend was saying. He also couldn't deny that Keila's response toward him felt different and far more interesting than the assertive, power-driven women he normally encountered. That was a little something he held back from Michael. It would only make sense out loud when it made more sense in his head.

  Michael went on, "She's recently gotten her head on straight and I think she's going to be a magnificent woman. She could use a little guidance in some areas, of that I'm sure, from Brianna's stories, but there's a lot of potential there."

  "How do you do that?"

  "What?"

  "See that potential. They're so young."

  "So was Julia."

  "So was I, back then," Jack reminded him.

  "You were forty when we met." Michael loved to tease his friend. He fell in love, got married, and was so hyper-focused on success to build them a great life that he always seemed so much older and mature. Jack never went through a playboy phase. He'd idolized his coach and only knew to model his adulthood on that example. He was going to be a successful family man who followed the plan.

  Michael continued. "You deserve some fun, my friend. Play the field."

  "I'm a little old to relive my twenties. What twenty-year-old is looking for that?"

  After looking over at Brianna, Michael went back to staring at his friend. "You'd be surprised what folks are looking for, or what you have to give in a relationship. I couldn't conceive of finding what I have with Brianna, but there she is, ten feet away from me, and I can't imagine my life without her."

  "I know. I'm working on it."

  "Fair enough. Well, let's get them sorted. How are you at tucking in?"

  "I'm out of practice, but I think I can handle it," Jack responded.

  He was either a pro, or Keila was more comfortable with him in sleep than she was in her awake state. When he crouched down and scooped up her relaxed body, he couldn't help but to breathe her in as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and molded her body to his. As he settled her into the bed and pulled the duvet up, Jack wasn't sure what he was feeling as he stared down at Keila's small frame swallowed up in the plush bedding. Whatever it was, he was glad he only had to deal with those feelings for two more days.

  Chapter 9

  Laughter and the salty, greasy, delicious smell of bacon reached Brianna. Bleary-eyed, she swiped her arm around the nightstand for her phone. Voices. Too clear to be the television or radio. Jackson and Keila. Why were either of them awake already? She'd grown used to Michael's crazy morning routine, but she felt certain Keila would have chosen to sleep in. Bri lay there with her eyes closed, letting the wafting scent penetrate her nostrils while listening to the water and imagining it running down Michael's naked body. She was torn between slipping in the shower to get that alone time with him she had been looking forward to the night before or going into the kitchen and shoveling in a full rasher of sodium and fat. Boy, that bacon sure smelled good. As well as she could figure, Michael must've had bacon added to his shopping list especially for Jack. He was a smoothie and coffee man most days, so the cheat food was likely for the three of them. Sex or bacon, rolling to her back and stretching with an audible exhale, that thought danced through her head. On the inhale as the scent graced her nose again, she leaped from the bed and put sex on the back burner.

  "I don't know why you're awake and I don't care, but I hope there's bacon for three."

  Brianna stood in the doorway of the kitchen, more than a bit shocked by what she was seeing. It wasn't bad, but
it was unexpected. Keila was sitting on the counter picking pieces of banana from a bowl beside her, laughing at whatever Jack must have said prior to Brianna's entrance. He was in basketball shorts and a tank top, looking more relaxed than Bri could ever remember. He was laughing and making…

  "What are you making?"

  "Morning, Bri. Um, Jack is treating and teaching me to make stuffed French toast."

  "No real adult can call themselves one if they can't at least make three meals. This is lesson one, breakfast. That's if my sous chef can stuff more bananas in the bread than her mouth."

  "I'm stuffing, I'm stuffing. When I'm done, you promised to let me actually make one."

  "I don't know how I feel about you and fire right now. Let's see how the stuffing goes."

  "How do I get in on the act?" Brianna's comment may have sounded innocuous, but they did seem like they were in a world meant for two. It was Michael's penthouse, but she was feeling every bit the odd man out.

  "Come on now, hop down," Jack said.

  "Help me, please," Keila asked and held her arms out.

  Bri was floored as she watched her friend reach her arms out toward him and Jack pluck her down like a piece of fruit from the limb of a tree.

  "Brianna, Michael keeps the best-stocked fridge ever. I thought you said he ate out a lot."

  "He does. The service delivers groceries. He adds all the extras when I'm coming over. So, what ya making? Original question."

  "French toast stuffed with Nutella and bananas. We made—Jack made—a special batter and shared his secret ingredient. Don't ask. I've been sworn to secrecy."

  "Okay." Brianna let her eyes case the kitchen for booze. There had to be, at least, a bottle of Bailey's dropped in their coffee. It had been weeks since Keila was caught drinking and Jack didn't seem the type to push it on an underage college girl at daybreak, but if they weren't drunk, none of what she was seeing made sense.

  Jack placed Keila just off to his right so she was able to reach around, and he instructed her to dip with her left hand and flip with her right.

  "Let it soak up the batter really good and then place it in the center of the pan."

  "I got it. I am a college student, you know."

  "You're the one who said all your cooking experience involved a microwave," he teased.

  "Yeah, the women in my family are more holiday than everyday cooks. There was plenty of reheating in my life. My mom and grams are total career women. Raising me may have been the most domestic thing my mom ever did."

  Keila laughed it off, but hearing her made Jack a little sad. He didn't know her whole story, but he knew about not getting all you needed from the family you were born into. He'd gotten lucky with his coach. He hoped Keila found her own version of that and sooner rather than later.

  "So, this is why I didn't find you in bed when I got out of the shower. Or, even better, in the shower with me," Michael pressed up against Brianna's back and whispered as he nuzzled her neck. She could feel the cool dampness lingering on his cheek from his shave and his still damp hair. Bri loved seeing him on the weekend. Everything was more relaxed, including his air-dried hair with its curled tips when it was growing out like it was now.

  As she turned in his arms, Bri treated him to a proper kiss, before she whispered, "I came for the bacon, but I've been getting breakfast with a show. He's teaching her to cook. And, I think they're having fun."

  "It is what you said you promised her." Giving her a final kiss, Michael maneuvered Bri further into the kitchen.

  Jack and Keila were only mildly aware of the dual set of eyes on them and the running commentary. They were down to the last two pieces needing to be flipped.

  "Hey, hot-fingers, don't put your finger in the hot pan." Jack swatted her fanny with the dishtowel tucked in his waistband. "Saturdays in the emergency room are not fun. How about you two set the table and grab the juice and fixings?"

  "You bossing me around in my own house?" Michael asked as he walked to the refrigerator.

  "Only when I'm the chef," Jack responded.

  Michael and Bri went to the other side of the island and started setting things out. Neither could resist looking over their shoulders every now and again to check on their friends. Bri wasn't going to push; she really had learned her lesson, but she was going to pump her friend for every single detail on their drive back to campus in a few days. She might even start a list of questions, so she didn't forget anything.

  As they came around the island with a platter in each hand, Jack and Keila were still laughing.

  It had been a wonderful morning that was completely unplanned. Keila couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. During the holidays, she was made to help, but that help was relegated to opening, peeling, mashing, and cleaning. The four enjoyed a breakfast that was a lot less strained than dinner the previous night, and when the men took off for Michael's office to get some work done, the girls finished the cleanup and made a serious effort at getting some work of their own done.

  "Stop doing that," Keila said without looking up.

  It was the third time she'd busted her. The girls turned the formal dining table into a makeshift library table, with books, papers, discarded junk food wrappers, mostly Keila's, and two mugs with the residue of multiple cups of coffee.

  "Doing what?" Brianna had been doing so many of her bad habits, she wasn't sure which one Keila had picked up on. She'd gnawed at her pen, pencil, and fingernails repeatedly. There was a small pile of shredded paper in front of her, and every inch of paper that didn't have actual lecture notes was full of doodles that included several renditions of her name with Michael's.

  "Staring at me, when I'm not looking, like you want to ask me something. Do you want to ask me something?"

  "If you think you know, just give me the answers."

  "Nope, that's not convoluted thinking at all."

  Brianna kept doodling. She couldn't even fool herself into believing she could cram any more in her brain. She hadn't made her list, but she also hadn't forgotten all the things she wanted to ask. The big problem was if the guys came back and busted them having this particular conversation, it would not end well for her or her behind. Michael and Jack were not big on meddling.

  "Screw it, I'm asking. Don't get mad and no threatening to leave or actually leaving. What was that this morning? I mean breakfast was great and I'm glad you loosened up and stopped being the weird, mute girl, but what the hell changed in one sleep?"

  "I was hungry. He was up and offered. Wouldn't it have been rude to turn him down? You've never cooked with your dad before? He's pretty easy to talk to, too. Of course, it's easier when I'm not being weird and trussed up in clothes fancy enough for a wedding."

  "What kind of weddings have you been to? I'm kidding," Bri said, giggling. "And, yes, of course, I've cooked with my dad plenty of times. Why that man thinks I need to know how to make venison stew is beyond me. Trust, it hasn't happened since the last time I helped him in high school. It doesn't taste bad, but I haven't missed it, either."

  The pile of paper shreds was growing.

  "I hope you don't need what's on those pages."

  "Uh, oh, no. It's just a bad habit when I'm focused on studying—work on the right and tear pages on the left."

  "Weird but got it. And, for the record, I've never had the cooking with Dad experience, so when he offered, maybe I just wanted to live out a little fantasy of my own. No one got hurt in the making of that French toast."

  After deciding to let it go for a bit, Brianna just intently eyed her friend again then started putting her stuff away.

  "We need to get changed. They'll be back soon. I, for one, am over these books, these notes, and this man's voice droning on in my ear. He's better than a sleeping pill. Comfy clothes and mini golf, this will be right up your alley. Now that I know there's nothing to worry about. There isn't, right? You're good with being around Jack now?"

  "Yes, Brianna. Don't make it a thing. It's n
ot a thing. I know I accused you of having a daddy issue with Michael, but I was clearly projecting. Swear you won't say anything. I don't want to weird him out. It's just me working out stuff in my head. It was a moment, that's all. Not a big deal. Okay?"

  "Okay, I won't bring it up anymore. You might want to deal with your own daddy issues, though. Seriously, it showed up here, so who knows when it will again? I will tell you this, though, this morning was the most relaxed and fun I've seen Jack on one of these weekends. Teaching you to cook, taking care of you clearly suits him. Maybe he just needed someplace to focus those attentions. Whatever works, uh?"

  With that, she was up and out of the room. Keila sat back in her chair and attempted to mull their conversation over. It took about forty-five seconds for her to abandon that idea. She was there for a fun weekend and not overthinking what eighteen years without a father had done to her imagination and behavior.

  Chapter 10

  That first weekend led to many more. Keila never did apply for the RA job. Instead, she moved into a swanky, high-rise apartment building with Brianna. They had a doorman, and the only other college students who lived there were the star athletes from the football, basketball, and baseball teams. Their lives could have been a sitcom. It made no sense to anyone who didn't know them how they could afford it, and when people saw them out with Jack and Michael, they just seemed like old family friends. Public displays, beyond hand holding and innocent kisses, were not things Michael went in for, so no one was especially scandalized by Brianna making out with the old dude, which was something the girls only dared to joke about when he was out of earshot.

  Jack, despite his age, was one of Keila's other best friends. The patience he showed teaching her to cook alone warranted his elevation to sainthood. He'd told her on numerous occasions she was distracted, at best, and at worst, completely reckless. The number of times she got caught up on her phone while a pot not five feet away boiled over astounded him. He had a hard time believing anyone was that inept. Still, she had more than one of each meal in her repertoire now. Stuffed French toast was still her favorite, but she figured it was because it was her first.