Page 67 of Steel Beauty

“Let me guess—you got to design a new dating suite?”

“I did, but that’s not the exciting part.”

I wonder if someone famous came in. “Tell me.”

“Cleopatra came in today.”

That grabs my attention. “Why?”

Charleston shrugs. “To raise hell about you breaking off the match.”

A laugh escapes me, and Charleston playfully narrows her eyes. “It’s not funny,” she says though her own laughter betrays her.

“Oh, it’s definitely funny.”

“I wasn’t there, but they said she was irate—like, actually scary. Honestly, she might be a little unhinged.”

“She gave off that vibe. I noticed she was obsessive about certain things. It was like nothing else existed when she locked onto something.” Reminds me of someone else I used to know.

“It made me feel guilty, hearing how hurt she was.”

“Hey, you’re not to blame for any of that.”

She shrugs, her thoughts visible in her expression. “Some would argue that I am. If I hadn’t—” She stops herself, but the guilt is written all over her face.

“I told you, I wouldn’t have gone back for a second date with Cleopatra. The only reason I even returned to Soul Sync was to talk to you.”

She nods slowly, but I can see that guilt still dwells in her eyes. “I can’t help feeling bad about it.”

“That’s because you’re a wonderful human being with a huge heart.” I glance at her, noticing how much she’s overthinking it. “Come here.”

She steps away from her seat, moving to stand between me and the helm, leaning her weight into me. I press a quick kiss to the side of her face.

“Now,” I say softly, brushing her hair back, “put on some of that weird music of yours. I know it’ll make you feel better.”

“You already know me so well.” Her grin returns, her spirit lifting. “All right, Captain Swoony. What kind of music are you in the mood for?”

“You’re the DJ.”

“Does this thing have cruise control?”

A laugh rumbles out of me. “I think you mean autopilot.”

“Whatever,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Does it?”

“It does.” I scan the horizon, noting the calm waters ahead. “And yeah, we’re in the clear now. It’s safe to put it on for a bit.”

She pulls out her phone and connects it to the yacht’s Bluetooth, scrolling through her music.

Soft notes drift from the speakers, and I glance over. “What are we listening to?”

Her face lights up. “This one is ‘Chances’ by Air Supply. Fun fact—they’re Australian.”

I think my tina listens to that band. “I couldn’t name a single Air Supply song.”

With a theatrical gasp, she clutches her chest, eyes wide. “You, my friend, are seriously deprived. But don’t worry.” She gives me a playful wink. “I’ll educate you. By the end of this trip, you’ll be a fan of all the greats.”

I think we have different ideas about what makes great music.But before I can respond, she steps closer, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Her touch is warm, calming.

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