Page 86 of Steel Beauty

My jaw tightens as the memory resurfaces. “It took everything in me not to lose it. I wanted to knock that arrogance right off his face, but everyone was there. If I’d retaliated, it would’ve only made things worse.”

“I don’t think he confronted you in public because he felt safe there. I think he wanted to provoke you, to make you react and look bad in front of everyone. This asshole’s not done messing with you.”

Her words hold an unsettling clarity. I’d assumed Tyson taunted me there because he knew I wouldn’t risk a scene, but maybe she’s right. Maybe he wanted me to snap.

“Why does this jerk have it in for you?”

“I took his job. The…organizationwanted me because I was better at the job, and he got transferred. Simple as that.”

“So he was settling a score by injuring you? Like, if he couldn’t have the job, then neither could you?”

“Exactly.”

She sighs, her expression softening. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that tonight. Are you okay?”

The warmth in her words and the genuine concern in her eyes touch something deep within me. “I am now. Talking to you makes it manageable. My anger doesn’t feel so overwhelming.”

Her smile softens as she brushes her thumb over my cheek, the slow, calming motion easing what’s left of the tension inside me. “I’m glad,” she whispers, leaning her forehead gently against mine. “You deserve peace.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel peace. With her beside me, the anger fades into something smaller, quieter, easier to manage. I close my eyes, letting her presence wash over me—the very thing I’ve been needing and looking for even when I didn’t fully understand what it was.

Chapter20

Magnolia Steel

We pullup to the house, and I stare, gobsmacked, as the sprawling estate comes into view. Nestled among lush greenery, the house is bathed in soft golden sunlight, its grand yet unpretentious design exuding a welcoming warmth. It’s the kind of place that could easily grace the pages of a magazine.

“Well, shit a brick and build a house with it!”

JC chuckles, glancing over at me. “Don’t hold back, Charleston. Tell me how you really feel.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “What do your friends do for work again?”

“Jack owns several vineyards across Australia and New Zealand. Laurelyn’s in the music industry—a songwriter for country artists.”

“Oh right.” I nod as it clicks. “She’s the one who used to be a big country-music star, isn’t she?”

“That’s right. And she also runs a nonprofit called Healing Melodies. It’s a foundation that uses music therapy to help kids, especially those dealing with tough family situations, like parents struggling with addiction.”

“All that while raising four kids? They must have their hands full all the time.”

“That’s putting it mildly. But somehow, they make it work. You’ll see—they’re incredible.”

This is a side of his world I haven’t seen before, and from what he’s told me, Jack and Laurelyn are more than friends—they’re family. Letting me into this part of his life feels significant, like he’s opening a door to something deeper.

As we approach the front door, I steal a glance at him, the question slipping out before I can think better of it. “Do they know all about our…situationship?”

His grin comes easy, amusement lighting up his face. “They know, and there’s zero judgment. Promise. They’ve been where we are, so they understand exactly what’s happening between us.”

Relief washes over me, smoothing out the tension. “So I can talk to Laurelyn about it?”

“Absolutely. Ask her anything. She’s been in your shoes, and I know she’ll tell you the truth.”

I think about Violet, the one who’s been with me through so much, always ready to listen. But she’s thousands of miles away, too far to see what’s unfolding here or fully grasp the strange, unexpected connection JC and I have built. It’s hard to put into words, even for myself sometimes. With Laurelyn, though—someone who’s lived this kind of whirlwind—I won’t have to explain it at all.

JC reaches out, his hand giving mine a brief but steady squeeze before we enter the McLachlan home. Together, we step into a space that feels like a breath of fresh air—a kind of comfort where our situationship doesn’t feel quite so complicated.

The rich scent of aged wood and something faintly floral greets me as we cross the threshold. Warm lighting spills across the room, highlighting the soft gleam of polished surfaces and the subtle charm of framed family photos on the walls. There’s a faint hum of music just loud enough to blend into the background.

---