Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires #2) by Lauren Asher

Declan looks around my childhood apartment in the same way one would analyze a museum exhibit. I’m sure his skin itches to find the nearest exit. Compared to his home, ours bursts with colors, fabrics, and photographs.

“This is where you grew up?” He pauses at each framed drawing I made for my mom when I was a kid.

“Spent most of my life here.”

He seems somewhat horrified by that fact as his eyes dart across a water stain.

I speak up. “Although the carpet was in better condition back then.”

“One could only hope.”

He picks up a frame of Mom, Nana, and me at my high school graduation. Tears stream down Mom’s face despite her wide smile. We weren’t sure if I would ever walk across that stage, but I overcame the challenges and persevered. It only took a repeated grade and hundreds of tutoring sessions to get there.

He assesses the photo in a way that makes me feel like I’m some kind of science experiment. My skin prickles with anticipation as I wait for him to say something. Anything really would suffice compared to his silence.

“I take it you three are close?”

“Depends on the day and if Nana took her meds that morning.”

“I heard that!” Nana yells back.

Declan’s eyes seem warmer than usual. “I can imagine growing up in a home like this came with its…perks.”

The way he says it with a scrunched-up nose makes me laugh.

“I never thought I would see the day when my daughter fell in love.” Mom cuts into our conversation.

Declan lets out a noise that can be classified as a laugh.

I glare at my mom. “You just love to embarrass me, don’t you?”

“You think this is embarrassing? I haven’t even offered to show Declan your baby album yet.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Mom only laughs. She wipes her palms across her apron before offering her hand to Declan. “It’s nice to meet you, Declan. I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

I point at Mom. “Don’t lie. It does scary things for his ego.”

Declan’s gaze swings between my mother and me before he grabs her hand. He gives it a firm shake. “The pleasure is all mine.”

It’s as if his grumbling in the car on our way here never happened. Asshole.

“Please come and sit. Can I get you a drink?”

We both sit on my mom’s retro couch. The flowers are grossly outdated and the complete opposite of Declan’s posh home, but it reminds me of Friday movie nights and Nana falling asleep to her Korean dramas.

“Water is fine.”

Mom looks sheepish. “Of course! I’ll get you a glass. I apologize for my mother’s manners earlier. She doesn’t leave the house often.”

“Only because you stole my driver’s license,” Nana offers from the kitchen.

“Excuse them. They must be suffering from a carbon monoxide leak or something. They’re not usually like this.”

Nana pops her head out of the kitchen. “Why lie to him? We’re always like this.”

I give Declan a reassuring pat on his thigh. “Welcome to my family.”

I pull my hand away, but Declan sweeps in and holds onto it. The warmth of his palm makes my hand burn.

Mom wags a finger at me. “Not yet. He needs to pass the Landry test before he’s officially inducted.”

Declan raises a brow.

“I hope you like spicy food.” Nana makes an appearance, sipping on her wine.

The three of us break out into laughter at the puzzled expression on Declan’s face.

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.





“Are you okay?” I refill Declan’s water cup for the third time in twenty minutes. A damp layer of sweat covers his forehead, and his usually slicked-back hair sticks out in all different directions. He even removed his suit jacket.

The man never so much as removes his jacket, let alone rolls up his sleeves. I’ve tried my hardest to keep my eyes focused on everything above his neck, but the amount of vein porn happening has my eyes glued to his forearm like a homing beacon.

It should be illegal to hide arms like those beneath suits.

Hell, it should be illegal to have arms like those in the first place. They’re distracting to the general population.

The scrape of Declan’s fork against his plate fills the silence. He glares at the piece of spicy chicken like he wishes he could go back in time and wring the animal’s neck himself.

“So, Declan, when did you realize you were in love with my daughter?”

Declan releases the knife in his hand, and it clatters to the floor.

“Aw. You’re making him nervous.” Nana sips her wine to hide her smile.

These two and their interrogation skills. I’m lucky Declan has understanding people down to a science because I never withstood my family’s inquisitions growing up.

“I think part of me always knew she would be the one. It just took a while for the rest of my brain to catch up.” His eyes don’t meet mine.

I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from laughing. The way he can lie his way through anything is something to be admired. Although it does come off a bit jarring, it seems to do the trick. Mom’s entire body melts from his statement.

“Why did you hold back for so long?” Nana asks, not looking as enamored as my mom.