Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)(82)

The garden is my favorite place in the entire world—sorry, Dreamland. I have so many fond memories here, dating all the way back to my childhood.

My mom, Nana, and I would come here together after my Saturday tutoring sessions. Mom and I would visit all the gardens while Nana would huff and puff about her busted knee, only to be easily swayed by the pretty flowers and champagne popsicles.

I laugh as Declan grabs a map from an information stand. He doesn’t ask for my help, and I don’t bother offering it. While I know every corner of this place, watching him assess the map like we are exploring uncharted territory is far too entertaining to pass up.

He locates our current position on the map. “Is there a certain strategy to all this?”

“Strategy? It’s a garden, not a chessboard.” I laugh.

“Fair point. Then is there something in particular you want to see first?”

“Shouldn’t we go wherever the person you came to see is?” I push my lips together to prevent giving myself away.

“I don’t know where they are.” He says the lie with such ease, it unsettles me enough to push for more.

“You know, if I knew what they looked like, it would make this process a little easier. How else am I supposed to know when we need to pretend?”

Declan shuts the map, pockets it, and grabs my hand. “We don’t.”

Sparks shoot up my arm from the contact. “So, what? We just act like a couple the entire time?”

“Exactly.”

I fake groan. “But this place is huge. It could take hours before we find them.”

“Maybe even more.” He doesn’t release my hand as he leads us toward the start of a trail.

I give him another opportunity to confess. “They must be pretty important if you’re going out of your way to subject yourself to walking around a garden for hours while holding my hand.”

“You have no idea.”

I turn my head away so he doesn’t catch me smiling at his lie.

Declan wraps his arm around my waist as if we touch like this all the time.

What happened to the man who struggled with touching me only two months ago? Because it seems like that version of Declan is long gone, with him using today’s fake date as an excuse to touch me however he wants.

I’m so lost in obsessing over his embrace that I almost miss my favorite part of this whole place.

“Ahh! Stop!” I pull back on Declan’s arm.

Declan halts, and I stumble from the momentum.

“What happened?” He checks the perimeter.

“You’re walking so fast that we almost missed my favorite part.”

He looks around, missing the greenhouse during his scan of the bushes behind us.

I point with my free hand at the glass structure.

“You want to go in there?”

“Yes! It’s the best place!”

“A greenhouse?”

I smile. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“I’m just surprised you prefer that over the outdoors.”

“I’ll show you why.” I all but drag him through the doors. Instantly, we are hit with a gust of humid air. Fans spray a warm mist across all the plants, and we are caught in the crossfire.

A crease appears in between his eyebrows. “Why is it so muggy?”

“Because they need to recreate the tropical climate.”

“What for?”

It excites me to know more about a topic than Declan, and I relish in the fact that he doesn’t know everything after all. “Plants like these would never normally survive the seasons here. Without a greenhouse, they would most likely die, especially in Chicago.”

He follows me as I walk through the rows of short palm trees.

“Is that the reason you keep all your plants indoors?”

“Do I need a better reason besides to annoy you with them?”

His glare makes me laugh to myself.

“Living in an apartment had many perks, but a greenhouse isn’t one of them. Not enough space.” I lead him toward the small pond at the back of the greenhouse. “You know how you have different words to express your feelings?”

He nods.

“Plants have different meanings too.” I gesture toward the lotus flower stems peeking out of the murky water. “These are my absolute favorites.”

“Why?” He pockets his hands and stares at me head-on without a flicker of emotion.

“Because it amazes me how the most beautiful flower can blossom from the worst conditions.” I check out my reflection in the murky water. “It seems silly to relate to a flower—”

“It’s not.”

I look up to find his eyes focused on me. The warmth reflecting in them encourages me to open up without worrying about the consequences. “I spent a long time underestimating myself, only to realize I needed to make it past the bad stuff and find the light.”

“Is this the reason you liked visiting the greenhouse?” He stops beside me to get a closer look at the flowers.

“The main one.”

“Any others?”

“You’re looking at it.” I spin in a circle with my arms extended, and my hands brush against a couple of leaves.

His lips press together in a poor attempt to hide his smile. “You’re a crazy plant lady.”