Free Wicked Dreams by Lily Harper Hart Page A

me,” Kelly said. “They’re not bad people. I know you probably look at them and see … jackholes … but they’re not horrible people. I’ve been in a lot worse foster homes than that one.”
    The admission caused Jack’s heart to flip. “Well, we’re going to make sure you have a stable home when this is all said and done.”
    “Derek and Emily really aren’t bad people,” Kelly repeated. “They’re just … limited.”
    “Kelly, they’re not foster parents because they care about kids,” Jack said. “They’re foster parents because the state pays them to be. They weren’t watching out for you.”
    “No one is a foster parent because they like kids,” Kelly said. “Well, I guess there probably are some good foster parents out there. I’ve never met them, though.”
    Jack exchanged a brief look with Ivy. She looked just as upset as he felt. “Are you sure your foster parents didn’t hurt you?”
    “I’m sure,” Kelly said. “I’m not going to pretend they were great role models. I’m not going to make up a lie and say they got me a Christmas gift every year. They didn’t hurt me, though. It’s not in their nature. You don’t have to worry about that.”
    That was a relief … sort of. “Who did … ?”
    Ivy cut off the rest of the question with a shake of her head. A quick look at Kelly’s downtrodden face told Jack she was right. Now was not the time to press Kelly further. She’d opened up a little. Now he had to reward her.
    “So, who wants ice cream?”
    “You’ve barely done anything,” Ivy said.
    “I’ve put up with you for two hours,” Jack said, chucking her under the chin. “I think that definitely means I deserve ice cream. Who wants me to make a Dairy Queen run?”

Nine
    “How does pizza sound for dinner?” Jack asked, walking out of Ivy’s bathroom after washing his hands and face and moving toward the living room. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving.”
    “You’re inviting yourself to dinner?” Ivy asked from the couch.
    “No, I’m offering to pay for dinner and let you eat some,” Jack countered.
    “I love pizza,” Kelly said, her gaze bouncing between Ivy and Jack worriedly. It was almost as if she was waiting for them to explode. Truth be told, Jack was waiting for it, too.
    “Fine,” Ivy said, too tired to put up a fight. A full day of potting – and verbally sparring with Jack – had left her weary. “I want my own pizza if you two are going to get meat, though.”
    “I can live with that,” Jack said. “We’ll get a large with all the fixings – including meat – for Kelly and me, and you can have some vegetable monstrosity all to yourself.”
    “Great,” Ivy said. “I love pizza when it doubles as an inedible monstrosity.”
    “You would,” Jack said. “You order.”
    “Why me?”
    “Because I’m not familiar with the pizza joints in town yet,” he said. “I figure you know which places are good and which ones are bad.”
    “That shows what you know,” Ivy grumbled. “There’s only one pizza place in town.”
    “Of course there is,” Jack said, rolling his eyes as he settled in the armchair and watching Ivy get to her feet and shuffle into the kitchen.
    “Kelly, is there anything you don’t like on your pizza?” Ivy asked.
    “I’ll eat anything.”
    “That’s not an answer,” Ivy prodded.
    “I … um … don’t like anchovies.”
    “No one does,” Jack said. “Do you like pepperoni?”
    Kelly nodded.
    “Ham? Onions? Mushrooms?”
    Kelly nodded at each question.
    “That’s what we want on ours,” Jack said. “Extra cheese, too.”
    “How can you possibly eat that and look like you do?” Ivy asked, nonplussed.
    “I work out.”
    “You wouldn’t have to work out as much if you ate better,” Ivy said.
    “No one asked for your diet critique,” Jack said. He leaned  over and reached for the remote control. “Do you like baseball, Kelly?”
    “Not really.”
    “You just