Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(63)

His jaw comes to life with dark slashes.

I leave his eyes blank for now. I’m tempted to paint them completely black, honestly. Yet, that wouldn’t quite do.

“Wow,” Robert says over my shoulder.

I twist around. “How am I doing?”

“Fantastic emotion.” He leans closer. “Once this dries, you can go back with an artist’s eye and clean up some of the lines. Make every stroke purposeful.”

I nod and glance at the clock. I’ve been sitting here for two hours.

“What do you have planned for his eyes? And lips?”

I shrug. “I haven’t decided.” I can’t see it yet.

He chuckles. “That boy is in trouble.”

“I think I’m the one in trouble.” I stare at Caleb’s face. It isn’t exactly in his likeness—it’s a little too abstract for that. Plus, there are the blank gaps: his eyes, his lips, his eyebrows. To capture the scowl or make him smile…

“Speaking of,” Robert says, going to the window. “He just pulled up.”

“Distract him!” I grab the canvas. “I need to hide this!”

He chuckles as I dash around, but he distracts Caleb long enough for me to get it put away. Caleb walks into the dining room. I’m cleaning up my paints. Robert showed me how to preserve them, covering the palette with plastic wrap to keep the air away from the paints.

“Working on our project?” he asks.

I grin. “Yep.”

He makes a show of looking around the room. “Where is it?”

“Hiding from your nosiness,” I retort. I brush my hair off my face and sigh. “What’s up?”

“Didn’t you say you were ungrounded today?”

“Did I say that?”

He lifts one shoulder, smirking at me. “Not sure where else I could’ve heard it, love.”

“Maybe that’s true.”

I try to slip past him, but he moves too fast. He frames me in against the wall, just out of sight of Robert. I know he’s eavesdropping on the other side of the wall.

“You running from me?”

“No,” I breathe.

He hums. “I think you are. Let’s change that.”

“How?”

His fingers dig into my hip. “Come to the masquerade ball with me.”

I blink. “Um, a dance?”

“That’s what a ball is, Margo.”

“I don’t dance.”

His eyes glitter, and he leans closer. His lips are right above mine.

Not fair, I want to complain. He knows how to make my body react. Always has.

“Come with me.”

“Okay.” I lean in slightly.

His lips brush mine, but then he’s gone. Straightening and stepping back.

“That was easy.” His grin is devious.

“Caleb—”

He strides away, into the kitchen. He mentions the ball to Robert, confirming that I’m going with him.

“That’s great, Margo,” Robert says when I walk in. “It’s hard to go to the dances alone, but from my time as a chaperone, the kids always have a lot of fun.”

“Are you chaperoning this year?” Please say no, please say no.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t volunteer this year. Lenora gets a little pissy if I’m out partying with the high schoolers past our bedtime. Besides, she doesn’t like to give candy out alone.”

Caleb laughs. “I’m sure you’re a reckless partier, Mr. Jenkins.”

“That I am, my boy.”

My boy. Jesus.

“Wait, when is the dance?”

Caleb eyes me. “In two weeks. Don’t worry, you have time to find a dress.”

Bastard. “Yeah…”

“Lenora would love to help,” Robert says. “We never got to go dress shopping with…”

I look at my shoes.

Robert clears his throat. “I don’t mean to bring up the past.”

Caleb goes over and pats his shoulder. “It’s okay, Mr. Jenkins. I understand.”

My foster dad nods at Caleb slowly. “I know you do. But anyway, I’m sure you two have better things to do today? It’s Margo’s first day of freedom, after all.”

“It’s only been a week of being grounded,” I say pointedly. “It isn’t really freedom.”

“Just go with it,” Caleb murmurs. “I was actually going to go run an errand in the city.”

New York City is only about an hour and a half away. By a stroke of pure luck, I didn’t end up in the NYC foster system. That would’ve been hopeless.

Because I lived in Rose Hill, which is part of Hillshire County, I got looped into that particular foster system. There are enough homes and group housing around here to keep me within an hour radius.

And that meant I avoided New York City.

“What errand?” I ask, perking up. “I haven’t been—”

“Since you were a kid?”

Robert tuts. “We could plan a day trip, Margo. I didn’t realize it was something you might want to do.”

I shrug. “I used to watch all the holiday events on TV. The tree lighting and the parades…”