Page 71 of Steel Beauty

I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “Women don’t usually say that to me.”

If she knew the truth, those words would likely never leave her mouth. Realizing I read like a young child—slow, stumbling, struggling to piece together words—might make her think again.

The thought stings, but I push it away. Right now, I’d rather focus on what she sees in me, not what she doesn’t know.

“Maybe those other women weren’t paying attention to the right things.”

Her words wrap around me like the blanket tucked over us—warm, comforting, and undeniably her.

“Tell me more about Samoan culture.”

I blink, the unexpected question throwing me for a moment. Most women stick to the polished parts—the rugby fame, the paparazzi flashes, the family business, flashy dinners, or the G-Wagons.

“Women don’t ask about that side of me. They act like it doesn’t exist.”

“Then you’ve been dating the wrong women.”

The moonlight casts a gentle glow on the curve of her cheek as she waits for my answer. There’s something in her gaze, steady and unhurried, that tells me she’s not asking to be polite. She truly wants to know. She wants to knowme. All of me.

She shifts closer, her hand pressing more firmly against my chest. “Your heritage is a huge part of you. I want to know all the facets of who you are.”

The way she says it, soft yet certain, hits deeper than I expected. I clear my throat and turn my gaze back to the stars. “My mom’s a feisty Samoan through and through. Family means everything to her—our heritage, our traditions. She made sure we grew up connected to it. We’re a big family. Loud. Loving. Completely chaotic. Every birthday, wedding, or reunion turns into a huge event. Everyone shows up, whether you want them to or not. And there’s always enough food to feed an army.”

“There would need to be plenty of food if they all eat like you do.” She giggles. “Sounds like a nice kind of chaos.”

“It is. Samoan culture is built on respect. Respect for your elders, your family, your traditions. There’s a deep sense of responsibility, like you’re always a part of something bigger than yourself.”

Her hand drifts lazily over my chest. “And marriage? What does that mean in Samoan culture?”

“Marriage isn’t only about two people. It’s a bond between families. It’s about trust, loyalty, and building something that lasts. There’s a saying:O le aiga e tumau le fa’avavau. It meansfamily is forever.When you marry someone, you’re bringing them into that forever.”

She’s quiet for a beat.

“Forever sounds beautiful,” she says, as though she’s turning the idea over in her mind.

I lean down, brushing a light kiss against her hair. “It’s a beautiful commitment, Charleston.”

A beautiful commitment I’m ready for.

“My father is Swedish-Australian. Of course, my siblings and I took our dad’s surname, but my mum always made one thing very clear: where we come from matters. She’s never let us forget that. She takes us back to Samoa at least twice a year. No quick visits either—we stay for weeks so we can reconnect with the culture.”

I chuckle softly, a smile tugging at my lips as I picture her. “My mum’s a strong woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone. And she’s got plenty of opinions to go around. Fierce is the best word to describe her.”

Charleston tilts her head up toward me, a sly grin playing on her lips. “Are you describing your mom or me?”

“The two of you have a lot in common.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Trust me, saying that you have a lot in common with a strong woman like my mum is a compliment.” And it’s the truth.

Strong women don’t intimidate me. They keep me grounded.

We drift into an easy silence. The boat sways gently, the music a soft hum in the background. Her hand moves absently under the hem of my sweater, her fingers warm against my skin.

“Your tattoos are elaborate. Did they hurt?”

“It’s a sharp, intense sting that doesn’t let up. Not exactly pain—more like pressure and heat combined.”

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