Page 79 of Steel Beauty

The soft patterof rain against the yacht’s roof pulls me from sleep before the sun has a chance to. Not that it matters—the overcast sky and thick clouds make it clear the sun won’t be making much of an appearance today. Outside, the world is draped in muted shades of gray, the kind of morning that whispers,Stay in bed a little longer.And with this man beside me, I don’t need much convincing.

Snuggled beneath the warm covers, JC’s arm draped lazily around me, I let myself sink into the moment. I could get used to mornings like this—waking up to the steady rhythm of his breathing, the heat of his body pressed against mine, and the feeling of being completely, utterly safe.

There’s something so settling about waking up beside him, like the chaos of the world can’t touch me as long as I’m here. It’s not just his presence—it’s the way he holds me, even in his sleep, as if letting go isn’t an option.

I close my eyes for a moment, savoring the peace, the quiet intimacy of it all. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With him.

The rain grows heavier, a rhythmic tapping against the yacht’s roof, a steady reminder that today won’t go as planned. No swimming, no smooth sail back to Sydney. Just us, tucked away in this cozy little world while the storm unfolds outside.

I glance toward the windows, watching the rain ripple down the glass, blurring the view of the water beyond. It feels as though the world has drawn a curtain around us, leaving the two of us cocooned in this quiet, timeless space.

He stirs beside me, his raspy morning voice still heavy with sleep. “Looks like we’re staying put for a while.”

I’m perfectly content with the idea. “No complaints here. Not a bad excuse to stay cozy.”

His arm tightens around me, and he lets out a soft laugh. “Good because I’m not eager to sail through a downpour. Anyway, I’ve got the best company.”

A comfortable silence wraps around us, the kind where words aren’t needed. We stay in bed, nestled together, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows and the relaxing sway of the yacht beneath us. The moments blur, the quiet so calming it feels like time itself has slowed. Before long, my eyes grow heavy again, and I let myself drift back into the warmth of sleep, safe in his arms.

Eventually, the pull of the day tugs us from the cocoon of blankets. JC stretches, his movements slow and unhurried, while I stay for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of the bed. The rain hasn’t let up, creating a soft, steady rhythm that seems to set the tone for the rest of the day.

By midday, the rain shows no sign of stopping, casting a soft gray glow over the yacht. Lunch is simple yet perfect for the day: sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a bottle of bubbly. The quiet intimacy of the morning stretches into the afternoon as we settle in the living area, the steady patter of rain providing a lulling backdrop.

I rummage through my bag and take out a small deck of cards.

“What’s that?”

“A conversation-starter game. I found it while I was shopping for the dating suite and thought it might be fun. It will help us to know each other better faster.”

“Do we get to do dirty things to each other?” He leans back against the cushions, looking far too pleased with himself.

I laugh, shaking my head as I hold up the deck. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not that kind of game. It’s about actual conversations.”

His grin holds a hint of intrigue. “Ah, so it’s a talking game. Got it.”

“It has three levels––close, closer, and closest.” I give him a playful look. “And just so you know, there’s no wimping out when things get personal.”

He raises his hands in playful surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Settling back beside him, I shuffle the deck, the anticipation making me smile. I’ve been looking forward to this since I bought the cards. “All right, should I read the questions, or do you want to?”

He leans back, looking entirely too relaxed. “I’ll let you do the honors.”

I glance at the first card and smile. “What is your love language?”

His eyebrows lift. “I don’t even know whatlove languagemeans.”

Shaking my head, I bite back a grin. “It’s basically the way you prefer to show love to others—and how you feel loved in return.”

Holding the deck in one hand, I start explaining. “First, there’s words of affirmation. That’s when someone expresses love through compliments, heartfelt notes, or even a quick text to say they’re thinking of you.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nope, definitely not me.”

“Okay. Then there’s gift-giving. It’s not about the money—it’s more about thoughtful gestures, like a small keepsake or a meaningful book.”

He considers it for a moment, then shakes his head again. “Still not me.”

“How about physical touch?”

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