Chapter 287

“Every chance I get, little one.”

The knock sounded again, this time impatient. Trees cursed. His time alone with Laila was up.

He wrenched the door open to find Matt leaning against the porch railing, cowboy hat shading most of his face from the patio lights. Ghost stood a few feet behind him in darkness, wearing a black ski cap nearly pulled down to his inky brows, which accentuated his otherworldly gray eyes. The shadows clung to the angles of his face, more suited to the runway than undercover work. Dark stubble clung to his aggressive chin and a sharp jaw. His mouth was turned down in an eternally pissed-off smirk.

“You got a problem with me?” Trees challenged the guy.

The look Ghost shot him would have felled any man who didn’t make their living by a gun. “I have a problem with you fondling on the client while we should be getting the fuck out of here. It’s unprofessional. You mooning over her risks all of us getting killed.”

Trees couldn’t argue