The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 6

Natasha

"I can't believe we just survived our first rush!" Brandon's voice echoes through the now empty bakery, carrying with it a mix of relief and exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he collapses into the chair he placed behind the counter.

A giggle bubbles from my lips as I lean against the wall beside him, still catching my breath from the whirlwind of activity. "Seems like word of Marco's engagement party really got around."

"I'm just glad you got here just in time. I was seriously contemplating just walking the fuck out of here, and leaving all those people at the counter," he jokes, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

I feel a pang of guilt creeping in. "I know, I'm so sorry. I should've been here sooner. It was selfish of me to let you open alone."

With a dismissive wave, he brushes off my apology. "Hey, don't sweat it. You needed the extra sleep. Besides, we made it through in one piece, didn't we?"

"Barely," I mutter, a hint of exhaustion in my voice.

If it's going to be like this from now on, we definitely need to hire someone ASAP. That thirty- minute rush just whooped our asses, and I'm not entirely sure we'll be ready for another one today.

From the kitchen, I steal a glance at Knox, who's seated at a table in the corner of the bakery, engrossed in his phone. Ever since he stepped outside for a phone call earlier, he seems...grumpier. Over the past nine months I've become familiar with his moods, putting his grumpiness in three categories: regular grumpy, silently brooding grump, and murderous rage grumpy. Right now, he looks like he could tear someone's heart out with his bare hands.

Whoever pissed him off should be very afraid for their life right now.

I don't entirely sure about Knox's past before he became my bodyguard, but whatever it was, I'm sure babysitting me is extremely tame in comparison.

I remove the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies from the oven, carefully sliding the baking sheet onto the counter. The mouthwatering aroma fills the kitchen, wrapping around me like a familiar, comforting hug. It reminds me so much of my Mom's embraces that I miss so damn much.

As the cookies cool to perfection, I admire the golden-brown edges and softness of each one, a testament to the hours spent mastering the recipe. I select three of the most flawless cookies from the batch to give to my ever-watchful, grumpy-as-hell bodyguard, hoping it will brighten his day a little. Baking has become my love language. Not that I love him or anything like that. I just want to show my appreciation for everything he continuously does for me.

With a mixture of nerves and determination, I place them on a napkin, and carry them into the bakery. As I shyly approach Knox, his typically stoic expression remains unchanged, but I catch a fleeting glimpse of curiosity in his eyes as they flicker toward the offering in my hands. Carefully setting the napkin on the table before him, I step back, nerves prickling my skin, as if I'm under the scrutiny of a panel of judges instead of just one man.

Why am I always so unraveled around him?

His gaze slowly raises to meet mine, a silent inquiry etched into his ruggedly handsome features. "What's this for?"

I offer a tentative smile, hoping it doesn't betray the turmoil churning inside me. "I know you're hungry, so I brought you some cookies."

"I'm not really a dessert fan," he grumbles, but there's a softness to his voice that belies his tough exterior.

I internally scoff at his comment. Who doesn't like dessert? Only psychopaths, probably. But it's a minor quirk I can try to overlook.

"Well, I made them specifically for you. So, eat them if you want. If not, that's okay," I say, attempting to sound casual with a shrug. Though if he doesn't eat them, I might just cry.