7
Cutter leaned back on the sofa in Kingdom’s office, waiting for him to wrap up his call. Christ, he was catchin’ feelings, and they pinged around in his chest like pinballs. Two days ago, Greta was sassier and sexier then the day at the coffee shop. Time to get that s**t under control. He couldn’t remember the last time he got as heated as he had the moment when Whistle had flirted with her. After the appointment, he taught that wet-behind-the-ears boy to never talk to her again. As of today, she was off-fuckin’-limits.
“What do you want?” Kingdom grumbled as he typed away on his laptop.
“Greta.”
“You’ve got zero chance with her. Forget it.”
Almost the same exact thing Sage had said. Cutter scowled at him and bit out, “You wanna bet, asshole?”
Confusion lined Kingdom’s forehead. No
