Page 66 of Steel Beauty

I step closer, my hand brushing lightly against her back. “Don’t worry. We’ll never be too far from shore.”

Curiosity flashes in her eyes. “Where are we going?”

“We’ll spend the evening cruising along the coastline. Then we’ll stop for dinner somewhere along the way. And by tonight, we’ll drop anchor right outside Newcastle.”

Excitement sparks in her eyes as she steps closer. Wrapping her arms around me, she tilts her head with a mischievous glint. “Drop anchor, you say?” Her voice dips, playful and teasing. “Are you also planning on dropping your anchor in me tonight?”

My naughtiness matches hers. “I’m definitely dropping my anchor in you tonight—and I’ll make sure it’s properly secured.”

Her words drip with playful seduction. “Ooh, your yachting talk is so dirty. Keep it coming.”

“I’ll keep it coming.”

I catch her mouth in a quick kiss, savoring her taste before pulling back. “We need to get moving. It’s three and a half hours to Newcastle, and I want to anchor down at a decent hour.”

“What will we do for dinner?”

“Taken care of. Chloe has hooked us up.”

Her face lights up, excitement lighting her eyes. “Chloe cooked for us again?”

“Sort of. She sent food and recipes. But fair warning—if you leave me in charge of the kitchen, I’d probably set the yacht on fire. So, cooking’s on you. I’ll handle the cleanup.”

“I’ll happily cook and clean, as long as you take care of the sailing. And theanchoring.”

Sliding a hand around her waist, I pull her closer, my words dropping to a playful murmur. “You can count on me.”

The yacht glides smoothly out of the harbor and into open water. The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting a golden shimmer across the waves. Charleston settles into the cockpit seating near the helm, the wind tugging at the brim of her cap.

She reaches up, pressing her hand to the bill to keep it from flying off.

“We’re out of the harbor now,” I call over the wind, glancing down at her with a grin. “You can ditch that if you want.”

She shoots me a knowing look, her lips curling into a smirk. “You’re saying that because you hate my Dak hat.”

I keep my eyes on the water as I steer us along the coastline. “Well, if that’s the case then lose the shirt too.”

“You wish.”

“I’ll get you out of it sooner or later.” That much is certain.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “I hope sooner rather than later.”

She reaches up, pulling off her cap and shaking her hair free. The breeze catches it, sending loose strands dancing around her face as she leans back in her seat.

Charleston’s attention drifts to the rippling water beneath the yacht. After a moment, she turns to me, her eyes soft with curiosity. “How was your day?”

The question stirs up thoughts of my session with Dr. Whitfield. For a moment, I consider telling her the truth. But in the end, I hold back. Because that’s what I do.

Admitting I spend an hour in therapy every two weeks feels complicated. Embarrassing, even. With all the advantages I’ve had in life—and knowing how hard she’s fought to get where she is—how could I ever complain to her about the injustices I’ve experienced?

She’s so damn strong––the epitome of turning life’s lemons into lemonade. Not just lemonade. No, she turns lemons into something extraordinary… like limoncello.

What she’s endured and overcome is something I admire more than I’ve ever told her, more than she’ll ever know. She’s not just a survivor; she’s a fighter. A thriver, the kind of woman who takes every curveball life throws her way and somehow comes out on top while still smiling.

“Same old, same old for me. Today was nothing special. Until now. What about you? Anything exciting happen at Soul Sync today?”

She lets out a small groan.“Actually, it was a pretty exciting day at Soul Sync.”

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