Page 41 of Ashes

I’d never had a man cook for me and never thought it would be attractive, but watching Jamal kneading the dough was a sight to see.

I must have been staring too hard because he glanced over his shoulder and caught me. I blushed and averted my gaze.

After a few minutes, my gaze drifted back to him, hoping the coast was clear. And once again, I became entranced by my husband and became hyper aware of every inch of his body.

The bead of sweat trailing down the side of his forehead, the way his shoulders strained the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt, the way his hands worked the dough.

My thoughts wandered to what those hands would look like on something else. On someone else.

On me.

Jamal was becoming a temptation I didn’t know how long I could resist.

The sound of a loud smack snapped me out of my thoughts. He placed the mixture back into a bowl and went to the sink to wash his hands.

With a towel in hand, he looked over at me. His lips parted and I waited for him to say something, but instead, he turned away, placing the towel back over the handle of the stove.

Then he whirled around and blurted out, “I have something for you.”

“Okay?” I asked hesitantly.

He slid onto the stool beside me, spread his knees, and I shifted to face him, my legs now fitting between his. He rubbed his hands up and down on his thighs, his eyes focused on anything but me, as if he was mentally preparing himself to give me whatever it was that he had for me.

He wassoclose. If he shifted, his hands would be skimmingmythighs.

Something I wouldn’t be opposed to.

No, Sienna. No puedes pensar en eso.

He reached for my left hand and slid something around my ring finger. The way his fingers grazed over my skin sent a shiver running down my spine and I hoped he hadn’t noticed.

The look on his face was a mix between uncertainty, frustration, and something I couldn’t determine just yet.

I was too focused on his face to realize what it was until I looked down. My eyes widened at the sight.

Holy shit.

A gold band with a marquise cut focal diamond, a flurry of diamonds surrounding it, was now sitting on my ring finger.

It was simple and elegant.

I’d never spent much time imagining what wedding ring I’d like since I was too focused on landing in an ER, but this was beautiful. And surprisingly,me.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles and I finally looked up at him, the expression on his face knocking the air out of my lungs.

Our gazes locked and the air hummed with a dangerous energy swirling around us and wrapping us in a suspended cadence.

My body found itself compelled to be closer, leaning toward him.

My knee brushed against his thigh and the slight movement was enough to snap the tendril that connected us. He dropped my hand like it was on fire and jerked back, clearing his throat.

“Keep this on,” he grunted.

And he’s back.

He moved out of his seat and went back to the counter where he had let the dough rest.

Still puzzled by what just happened, I settled on watching him finish cooking theyaniqueques, mindlessly playing with my ring. I shouldn’t have felt anything when he slid the ring on my finger because thiswasn’ta real marriage.