Page 87 of Steel Beauty

“Jack! Laurelyn!” JC calls out, his voice carrying easily through the open space.

“Hey.” Laurelyn appears from around the corner, her smile bright and genuine as she strides forward, her arms already outstretched. She wraps JC in a warm hug first, patting his back as she pulls away with a beaming grin. “It’s so good to see you.”

JC steps aside, his hand gesturing toward me. “Laurelyn, this is Charleston.”

Her gaze shifts to me, her smile widening as she steps closer. She pulls me into a hug that’s firm and welcoming. “Charleston, we’re so glad you’re here.” Her easy, natural embrace instantly melts away any nerves I’ve been holding on to.

Jack follows behind her, his handshake strong and steady, followed by a quick pat on JC’s shoulder. “Made it just in time. Hope you’re ready for a feast.”

Laurelyn steps closer, her arm looping through mine with an ease that feels natural. “Come on, let me show you around.”

She moves gracefully through the space, pointing out small details—a photo here, a piece of art there—each accompanied by a story that feels like an invitation into her world. I follow her to a gallery wall filled with framed photos, my gaze catching on one in particular. It’s a wedding picture—Laurelyn and Jack, radiating happiness, surrounded by friends and family. But it’s not them that stops me.

“Wait a second.” I lean in closer, my finger hovering near the image. “Is that… Jake Beckett? He came to your wedding?”

Laurelyn glances at the photo, her lips curling into a wry smile. “Only because he’s my sperm donor.”

My head jerks back, and I stare at her, my jaw practically on the floor. “Your father is Jake Beckett? As intheJake Beckett? Legendary country-music star,thatJake Beckett?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the p in a way that’s almost dismissive. “Don’t be too impressed.” Her expression tightens. “He’s an asshole.”

I blink, her words sinking in. The casual way she says it makes it hit even harder, like it’s a truth she’s long since come to terms with. My thoughts spiral, pulling me back to my own life, my own father.

I know what it’s like to have an asshole for a parent, but at least Jake Beckett doesn’t sound like mine. Whatever mistakes he’s made, I doubt they include dragging his daughter into dangerous messes or insisting she lock her door at night in order to stay safe from the fallout of his bad choices.

The thoughts stick, heavy and unresolved, like they always do when my father crosses my mind. I glance at Laurelyn, wondering what stories she carries about Jake Beckett, how she manages to talk about him so matter-of-factly. “I get it. I have my own version of an asshole for a father.”

Laurelyn’s gaze meets mine, a faint understanding passing between us before she gestures to another photo, shifting the conversation back to something lighter. But my thoughts loom, a quiet storm beneath the surface, one I’m not willing to share.

Jack picks up a wineglass, filling it with the last of what remains in the bottle. “Here you go, Charleston. The good stuff. Guaranteed to make you feel like part of the family—or at least tolerate us until dessert.” He raises his own glass in a playful toast, his humor tugging a smile from me.

The gesture is casual and welcoming, easing the knot of nerves in my chest a little more.

“You have a beautiful home.” My eyes travel to the high ceilings and open layout. The understated elegance is warm and inviting; nothing about it feels overly showy.

“Thank you,” Laurelyn says. “I really do love it here. This home has so much of our story in it—it’s where we’ve built our life, raised our kids, and made so many memories. It’s different from living in the U.S., but I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

Jack claps JC on the shoulder, grinning. “First things first, mate. Let’s hit the wine cellar and find another bottle of vino.”

JC flashes me a quick wink before following Jack, leaving me alone with Laurelyn. I take a steadying breath, surprised at how nervous I’d been on the drive here. Those nerves, though, are beginning to fade.

Laurelyn moves with grace around the kitchen, finishing the final touches on the meal. There’s no staff bustling about, no air of formality—just a wife and mother in her element, creating a space that feels warm and authentic. It’s comforting in a way I didn’t expect, and to my surprise, I feel at ease, like I truly belong here.

She glances up, catching my eye with an easy smile, the kind that instantly makes you feel welcome. “Just so you know, we’re not formal around here. Relax, make yourself at home. If you feel like jumping in, go for it—if not, no pressure. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Honestly, I was a little nervous, but you’ve made tonight feel really easy.”

“Good. That’s what we’re about here—no pressure, no expectations, just family.” She sets a dish on the counter, brushing her hands on a towel before glancing back at me, a playful spark lighting her expression. “And speaking of family––” Her smile widens mischievously. “I told the kids you two are playing a little game, and they’re supposed to call him Julius Caesar while you’re here. But they’re kids, so who knows how long they’ll actually stick to it.”

I laugh, taking a sip of the wine Jack poured for me.

She raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge dancing in her gaze. “Are you ready to learn his real name if one of them lets it slip?”

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world if they slipped up. The alias thing is for fun. What we have is about making the most of the time we’ve got while I’m here in Australia.”

She nods, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. “You’re okay with not knowing more about him?”

I pause, considering the possibility. “I know he’s someone well-known in the public eye. That’s not something he can hide, but I actually like the mystery. Even if I learn his real name tonight, it won’t change anything for me.”

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