Page 20 of The Oath Operation
The timer on the oven went off, signaling that the brownies were done. Jules stood abruptly and hurried to the oven, putting distance between herself and Fish.
"Let’s see how they turned out."
The delicious scent of the freshly baked brownies wafted out of the open oven door. Jules cut a piece and handed it to Fish, her eyes watching him expectantly.
He took a bite, the rich, chocolaty flavor melting in his mouth. "These are incredible, Jules."
However, because they were so moist, a glob dribbled onto his uniform.
"Oh no," Jules said, dabbing at it with a dish towel, only to make it worse. "Let's get this off before the stain sets. I can put it in the wash."
Fish obeyed without thinking. He pulled the top over his head. That's when he heard Jules' gasp. He wasn't wearing anything beneath the top, and she was confronted with his bare chest.
ChapterFourteen
Jules grabbed a damp cloth and moved closer to Fish, her focus entirely on the small stain. She dabbed at it gently, her fingers brushing against the fabric. Beneath the cloth, she felt the solid expanse of his chest. The muscles there were firm and unyielding under her touch. Her fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, pressing slightly to feel the strength beneath the surface.
A rush of warmth flooded her cheeks as she realized how intently she was touching him. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept drifting to the sensation of his strength. Fish was her snow plow, the one who moved obstacles out of her way, making her path easier. Feeling the sheer power in his chest, Jules felt a surge of confidence and security wash over her. She had never felt this powerful before, not just because of him, but because he made her believe she could do anything.
Jacqui had tried to do everything for her. Amari outlined what he wanted her to do for them—but really, they were all his wishes and rarely hers. No one had ever made what Jules wanted possible. No one except Fish.
The sounds of the oven timer ticking and the soft hum of the refrigerator became distant. All she could focus on was the solidness of Fish's chest under her fingertips, the way his warmth radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of emotions swirling within her—gratitude, admiration, and something deeper, something that made her pulse quicken and her breath catch.
She had always seen Fish as a quiet shadow. She'd look over in the corner of her bakery and there he was, a steady presence in her life. But now, as she stood this close to him, feeling his strength, she began to see him in a new light. Romantic feelings she hadn't acknowledged before bubbled to the surface, making her chest tighten with a mix of excitement and fear. How had she never truly looked at him this way before?
The kitchen light cast a warm glow around them, the faint scent of vanilla and chocolate lingering in the air. Jules felt her fingers press a little harder against his chest, marveling at the solidity, the reality of him. Fish didn't move, standing still and allowing her to touch him, his breath steady and calming.
In that moment, Jules felt a connection, a deep sense of trust and understanding that went beyond words. She slowly pulled her hand away, her fingertips tingling from the contact. Her eyes met Fish's, and she saw a flicker of something in his gaze—something that mirrored the emotions she was feeling.
Between them was a charged silence that spoke volumes. Jules took a step back, her heart racing, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She had never felt this way before, and it both thrilled and terrified her. It was as if a door had opened, revealing possibilities she hadn't considered before. And she shouldn't consider them now. This marriage wasn't real. It was a business deal, and she did not want to get those things mixed up.
"Let's get this off before the stain sets. I can put it in the wash."
And then he was pulling off his shirt, and Jules knew she was in a whole new world of trouble.
The motion was fluid and unselfconscious. Jules took the offered shirt. Her fingers brushed against his hand, but her gaze was drawn to his bare chest. For a moment, she just stared.
Fish was a big man. His size had never bothered her because he didn't wield it like a weapon. Right now, she felt the power of it.
His broad shoulders and muscular frame couldn't hide his strength. His skin, a deep tan from his Korean heritage, looked smooth and unblemished under the warm kitchen light. He was hairless, his chest a canvas of defined muscle. Jules’s eyes traced the lines of his six-pack, each muscle perfectly sculpted, standing out in stark relief against his lean torso.
Her breath caught, her heart beating faster as she marveled at his physique. The sheer power and strength he possessed were evident in every inch of his body. Yet there was a softness in the way he looked at her, a gentleness that contrasted with his imposing build. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him again, to feel the warmth of his bare skin under her fingertips, but she held back, suddenly aware of how close they were.
He said nothing. He didn't move. He just let her look. That was his way; letting her have her way by removing any and all obstacles in her path—like his shirt.
Fish's chest rose and fell steadily, each breath a reminder of the life and vitality contained within him. The oil from the avocado in the brownie had seeped through his shirt, and there was a glistening spot on his chest. Jules only just stopped herself from reaching for it.
"Why don't you go to the bathroom and get cleaned up while I put this in the wash?"
"Sure," he said, turning on his heel.
And then she got a glimpse of his back dimples. Oh, someone up there was not having any mercy on her. With his back turned, she let the expressions of admiration show on her face. The man was beautifully built. Whoever ended up with him would be a lucky woman.
At that thought, Jules felt a pang of jealousy toward that woman. Then she realized Fish was her husband. She was his wife. For the next few months, she had the right to look, to touch even. But there was a reason why she shouldn't.
What was that reason again?
As though in answer, her doorbell rang. She opened her front door to find Amari standing there, his face set in an irritated frown.
