Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)

by Lauren Asher

To anyone fighting an invisible battle. I see you.

“I simply planned a party like he asked me to. He should have specified what kind of event he wanted.” “Remind me to never piss you off.”

Well, everyone except me. Some might say he earned my loyalty through a paycheck, but that isn’t the case. We share a mutual respect for one another that has stood the test of time.

Somehow we click although we’re opposites in almost every single way.

His latest software update didn’t include a manual on how to be a decent human being.”

The voicemail can be heard loud and clear through the tiny phone’s speaker. Cal whistles before making an explosion noise. “That’s the sound of Declan’s future dying.” “Don’t you have somewhere to be? A seedy bar perhaps?” Declan snaps.

“I’m doing this because we’re friends.” “I will never be your friend.” And I never want to be.

“You don’t have to pretend to dislike me so much.” “Your first mistake is thinking I’m pretending.” She only grins at the barb. “They say there’s a thin line between love and hate.” “Not thin enough,” I grumble under my breath.

BANTER

“Careful, Declan. Your misogyny is showing.”

“Are you threatening me?” “Me? Never.” She bats her lashes. “I prefer the term motivating.” Her brand of crazy happens to draw mine out. “You’re a pain in my ass.” “Nope. That’s just the same old stick acting up again.”

BANTER

Her eyes are bright, always serving as a mirror straight into her heart. Her stupid, bleeding heart.

“That sounds like absolute hell.” “At least you’ll feel right at home.”

“Thank you for everything.”

“Hello, brother. How are you this afternoon? Make anyone cry yet?” “No, but it’s only noon.”

DECLAN

here we thought marrying her would humanize you a bit.” “Why would you think that?” “Because you respect her.”

“It was a mistake.” “It sure as fuck better be.” The glass tumbler beneath my hand shakes from how hard I grip the cylinder. His lips curve at the corners. “I knew you were jealous.”

“Kiss her again and I’ll enjoy ripping your tongue from your throat.”

“Six a.m.?” It should be a capital offense to wake anyone up this early on their one day off.