The plunging V-neck shirt that didn’t cover his daughter’s midriff and the short skirt that revealed way too much thigh would be burned at the earliest opportunity. Like the next day when he cleaned her room and found them lying in the floor where he knew she’d throw them. “But, Dad—” “No ‘buts.’ Just change.” “You know my cheer skirt is shorter than this.” Rebecca rolled her eyes as she stomped off to her bedroom to change. “Yes, but you’re appropriately covered underneath.” “She’ll just come out in something worse, Daddy.” His middle daughter, Jessica, crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. “We’re gonna be late.” “We’re not leaving until your sister is presentable.” For anything other than a hooker-of-the-year contest. He shuddered at the thought. Sebastian Taylor had known raising three girls on his own was going to be hard, but how did one prepare for this?
