Page 15 of The Oath Operation

Wasn't it?

She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and inquired with Google. The search results quickly filled the screen, and she read through the explanations. The kiss symbolized the union and love between the couple, a physical manifestation of their commitment and affection. It had roots in ancient Rome, where a kiss was a legal bond that sealed contracts. This practice had extended to marriage, symbolizing the agreement between the couple. The kiss also served as the emotional high point of the ceremony, signifying the couple's joy and the beginning of their married life.

Joy? That wasn't exactly what Jules thought of when she thought of her upcoming marriage. There was no fear in the thought of marrying Fish. No anxiety. She felt… resigned to it.

No, that wasn't quite right either. Resignation held a hint of sadness. Was she sad she wasn't marrying the man she loved? Yes. She might not love Fish, but she had a great deal of respect for him. She knew she could depend on him. And she liked him. The thought of marrying Fish brought a sense of security to her. Like a warm blanket on a winter's day.

Fish was the blanket. Big enough to encompass her entire body. Sturdy enough to wrap her up tight. She saw him in her mind's eye, tucking in the corners. Then his gaze lifted to hers, his mouth in alignment for a kiss. And that thought made a fire ignite in her belly.

She shook her head before her imagination ran away with itself. Before she could get a clear visual of what it would be like to kiss Fish. Maybe she should ask him to skip that part of the ceremony.

The kiss wasn't necessary, just expected. And it wasn't like anyone would even be at their nuptials. Just family. And they all knew the marriage was a farce.

She looked up from her phone, her eyes finding Fish as he worked. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his muscles rippling under his shirt. His face, usually so serious, had a softness to it when he was deep in concentration. She noticed how handsome he was, his features strong and rugged, yet capable of such warmth.

Her heart skipped a beat. The idea of sealing their vows with a kiss suddenly felt less like an obligation and more like something she genuinely wanted. She wanted to share that moment of unity, to make their partnership real in every sense of the word.

Their business partnership, that was.

"Hold it steady, guys," Fish instructed, his voice carrying over the noise. "We need to get this level before we secure it."

The men nodded, following his lead. Fish adjusted the frame, checking its alignment with a level before nailing it into place. The force of his hammer strikes reverberated through the air, each blow purposeful and powerful.

"I thought you were a cook," said the foreman. "You know a lot about construction."

Fish shrugged. "My family has a construction business."

Jules hadn't known that. There was a lot she didn't know about this man she would be marrying in less than twenty-four hours. She glanced at his bare left hand. Soon there would be a ring there. She only hoped it was big enough to fit over his finger.

Fish glanced over and caught her eye, giving her a quick, reassuring smile. Jules felt her heart skip a beat.

"Thought I wasn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding," he said as he came over to her.

"That's just to stave off bad luck. Our marriage won't need luck. Where we'll need luck is the timeline of this construction."

"I'm on top of that."

"You shouldn't be doing the construction, too."

Fish shrugged again. "I made a commitment to help you get this place up and running. I don't shirk my commitments, Jules."

And with that, he strode off. He was back in the thick of it. Helping to rebuild her dream as she watched from the sidelines. Jules watched him for a moment longer, marveling at how easily he moved between roles—strong and capable with the construction, gentle and precise with her baking. He was a paradox, a blend of strength and tenderness that she found herself increasingly drawn to.

He never did things for her the way her sister Jacqui did, often stepping in to take over. Instead, Fish quietly moved obstacles out of her way, allowing her to shine. He was more than just a warm blanket. He was more like her very own snowplow, clearing a path so she could move forward unimpeded.

There was the time when her mixer broke down right before a big order. Fish had shown up, tools in hand, and fixed it without a word, staying late into the night to make sure everything was perfect. Or the time when a supplier had failed to deliver a crucial ingredient, and Fish had driven halfway across the state to find what she needed, arriving just in time to save the day.

Each memory brought a warmth to her heart, a realization that Fish had always been there, clearing the way for her dreams to thrive. Had he always harbored this desire? To be her partner in the bakery? He could've asked. Instead, he’d shown her his worth. She looked at him now, standing in the dusty, half-rebuilt bakery, and felt a surge of affection and gratitude.

"Fish," she called to him.

He glanced up, giving her his full attention.

She wanted to tell him that he didn't need to go through with this marriage to be her partner. That she wanted him as part of this business. She wanted him by her side. Keeping her warm. Moving the big obstacles to the side so she could march through.

Instead, what she said was, "I'll see you at City Hall."

"I'll be the one in the uniform."

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