MARIA POV
Baking had always been my therapy, but lately, it had become my way of bartering peace. Or maybe my freedom. Sam, the once-intimidating bodyguard who could probably crush a man’s skull with one hand, had somehow transformed into a cookie-hungry toddler with a sweet tooth that rivaled a fairy’s.
I swear, he was using baked goods to negotiate my freedom.
“Another batch?” he asked, his deep voice softened by the hopeful look on his face as he loomed over the counter, peeking at the freshly cooled cookies.
“Yes, *another* batch,” I teased, rolling my eyes as I placed a tray of chocolate chip cookies on the cooling rack. “You’ve eaten half of these already. I’m starting to think I’m going to have to pay you in cookies instead of… whatever Mom and Robert are paying you.”
S
