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 f**k 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.

Not in front of him, of course.

A glimmer of something flares in the depths of Knox's gaze, but it's gone just as quickly. "Thanks," he murmurs.

My heart swells with warmth at his simple acknowledgement, and I can't suppress the genuine smile that graces my slips. "Anything for you, Knox," I reply before I can stop the stupid words from tumbling out.

Oh god. Did I really just say that? How desperate did it sound?

Embarrassment immediately crashes over me in a suffocating wave, and I want to go drown myself in the nearest body of water. Pivoting on my heels, I manage to maintain my composure until I'm safely in the walk-in freezer, where I release a muffled scream of frustration.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I shout to no one, sinking to the floor, and shielding my flaming cheeks with my hands.

Maybe he didn't read too much into it. He's already rejected me once, maybe he thinks I wouldn't be stupid enough to try to hit on him again. That I'm just trying to repay him for protecting me better than any man has done before.

I mean, cookies aren't an intimate dessert. It's not like I gave him a brownie, or squirted my juices on them so he has a part of me inside of him. I'm not mentally unstable.

As I sit on the ground, drowning in the depths of mortification, the door flies open, and I raise my head my head to see Brandon's amused expression. "Something happen with Daddy Knox, or are you having your first meltdown as a business owner?"

"I...may have said something embarrassing to him," I admit in a low voice.

Brandon's eyebrows shoot up, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Like?" he drawls, leaning against the wall.

"I gave him some cookies, and when he said thanks, I said 'Anything for you, Knox'."

Brandon lets out a burst of laugher, barely stifling with his hand . "You may as well have laid down on the table in front of him, spread your legs, and told him to eat your cookies."

Okay, this conversation is not helping!

Frustration bubbles within me as I shoot him a withering glare. "Shut up, I know!" I retort almost in a whine.

"Did you say it in a normal way, or like, 'Anything for you, Knox'?" he mocks my voice with exaggerated seduction that would make me laugh if I was sure I didn't say it that way.

"I...I don't know," I mumble, another wave of humiliation threatening to consume me. How will I ever be able to look Knox in the face or speak to him again after this?

The doorbell jingles as a customer walks in, breaking the awkward silence. "Duty calls," Brandon says with a wink before he walks out of the freezer, leaving me alone to piece myself back together.

Taking a breath, I summon the courage to walk out of the freezer. My heart pounds as I get back to work in the kitchen, avoiding look at Knox. I finish bagging up the rest of the batch of cookies in cute little baggies and arrange them in the display counter.

As I lean down, I can't help but look at Knox through the glass. To my shock, I find him actually eating my cookies. With each bite, his stoic demeanor seems to melt away, replaced by a hint of contentment. I wonder if he can taste all the warmth and love that I put into my baking.

"Daddy likey," Brandon's low voice scares the s**t out of me as he pretends to pick something off the ground to whisper in my ear.

"Shut up," I hiss at him, feeling my face flush once again with embarrassment. "But do you really think he likes them?"

"I mean, that permanent frown on his face isn't there right now. What'd you put in them? m*******a? A bear tranquilizer?" he teases.

I shake my head. "Nothing special." Just my heart and soul.

Once I finish arranging the display, I stand and adjust my skirt, then begin wiping down the counter. Crumbs are beginning to collect, and it's making me itch. I love my best friend, but he's kind of a slob. I find myself cleaning up after him often.

Once the bakery empties out again, I catch Brandon as he sweeps the floor, the rhythmic swish of the broom echoing through the now-quiet space. "You know, I'm glad you weren't upset about me being late. I was about to bake you one of my famous apology cakes," I remark with a playful grin.

He feigns a pout. "Damn it, I should've pretended to be upset."

I roll my eyes, but can't help but laugh. "I can still bake you one, but you're gonna have to pay for it," I tease back, enjoying our light-hearted banter.

He starts to say something, but hesitates before finally continuing. "Actually, I kinda need a favor from you."

"What's up?"

His expression shifts, reflecting a mixture of reluctance and anticipation. "So, this guy I met at the party last night asked me on a date on Friday. I need you to come for moral support."

"Like be a third-wheel?" I ask, tilting my head. "I mean, I don't mind it as long as you feed me."

His lips purse together in a hesitant line, his brows furrowing slightly. "Well...not exactly. It's more like a double date."

I raise an eyebrow, silently demanding him to elaborate.

"He has a brother that claims to be really interested in you."

"From the party?"

There's a huge chance I'm related to majority of the people that were there, and that creeps me out. What if this guy is some kind of removed cousin wanting to go out with me?

"His father is someone named Ivan Abramov or something like that. Sound familiar?"

I shake my head. "No, but I don't pay attention when I'm in a room full of those mobsters anyway. You sure you wanna go out with someone with mob connections?"

"Yes," his insists, desperation in his tone. He's basically s*x on legs." Flashing me a smirk, he adds, " Besides, my best friend has a rich, mafia daddy too."

I scoff at the mention of my father. "Yeah, and he's an asshole."

He grabs my arm, desperation evident in his eyes. "So, you're gonna go? I swear, if at any time you feel uncomfortable, we can leave."

I take a moment to contemplate it. It's just one date, and there are no expectations of s*x. Last week I rushed it trying to bang that guy from Tinder, but this time, I'll give myself grace.

One day I won't be a prisoner to my trauma.

"Okay," I finally reply, a tentative smile forming on my lips.

He exhales a relieved sigh, drawing me in for a tight hug. "Thanks for doing this. I owe you big time!" he exclaims.

As we break apart, I lead him away from the floor behind the counter, glancing over at Knox to ensure he's not listening. "I don't want Knox taking us though," I say in a low whisper.

The thought of Knox being there fills me with unease. I'd be too preoccupied with his presence to focus on my date, and that's a recipe for disaster. I swear, I've accepted that nothing can ever happen between us, but my v****a seems to have missed the memo.

“How are you going to do that? The only time Knox isn't watching you is when you're home," he whispers back, skepticism lacing his words.

"Oh ye of little faith, my friend," I reply, a playful lilt in my voice. "Knox will drop me off at my place on Friday after work, and you can meet me. From there, we'll take an Uber."

There has been plenty of times where I've managed to slip away from my bodyguards. Knox may be a bigger challenge, but when there's a will, there's a way.

"Are you sure? I don't want us to get caught, and I don't want to get on Knox's bad side. He's f*****g terrifying."

I roll my eyes in a theatrical display of confidence. "We'll be fine. Trust me."

"We could just use my car then," he suggests, still whispering.

"No," Knox interjects firmly from across the room. My gaze flickers to him, catching the grey flames burning in his eyes. However, he manages to keep his voice eerily calm. "I will be escorting both of you on Friday. Natasha knows very well she's not permitted to go anywhere unaccompanied by me."

Brandon's face pales, and a rush of embarrassment floods through like a scorching wave, coloring my cheeks crimson.

Oh, s**t. How did he hear that? And if his hearing is that good, what else has he overheard today?