Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon

Chapter 123

The contract was handwritten, in strokes defiant and sharp–clear signs that the girl who penned it wasn’t in the best of moods.

Everard’s initial thought was that the kid had pretty good handwriting, not too delicate, but with a certain firmness to it. Then he focused on the content.

1. Hold hands once a day. If I don’t initiate, you keep your hands to yourself.

2. One kiss per week, on my terms. Other than that, don’t even think about it or dream about it.

3. No inviting yourself over to my place for dinner.

4. Don’t call me unless it’s absolutely necessary!

5. TBD. Will add more rules as I think of them.

Everard raised an eyebrow. Holding hands was already a daily routine; the kissing frequency seemed a bit low–surely exceptions could be made. As for dinner, a nod from her dad would sort that out, and for phone calls, “necessary” could be quite subjective.

As he mentally critiqued each rule, he looked up to see the girl staring at him seriously, her dewy eyes filled with solemnity, like a cat on the verge of a hissy fit, ready to pounce at any hint of bargaining.

He chuckled softly and answered, “Fine by me.”

Her tension eased at his agreement, and she picked up the breakfast she’d prepared and set it on the counter.

Everard, feeling proactive, took it and arranged the spread on the dining table.

with even greater solemnity, making him too wary to tease her. A few minutes later, she released his hand and asked with a

was bemused. “I guess

that much attention to

relief was palpable. Synthetic fabric could cause static when rubbing against skin, which explained the

the girl often had

to

backpack and headed

fiery red hair bent over his phone,

them curiously.

put away his phone. “I hired a martial arts instructor yesterday,” he announced with a lift of

Cordelia was puzzled.

me some time to train, and

offered a noncommittal “I guess good

1, who was still

textbook to reveal a comic book

thought it

“See, I can read during class, and

Cordelia felt enlightened.

her tears. Cordelia returned to her thoughts of Everard, wondering if he too used books as a facade, and what secrets his reading

returned home to the Delaney residence. A white Mercedes in the driveway signaled

place behind closed doors. Cordelia joined them, discussing the artwork she had chosen, and the painting Lorna had failed to sell–a matter of little consequence