Chapter 4
Olivia
The house from the ad sits tucked back off the gravel road. White weatherboard with a wide front veranda that wraps around like a hug. The person behind the phone had been vague, just an address and a “see you then”, with a smiley face.
No name. No clue. Odd.
I finally decided I’m really doing this.
After the chaotic shitshow of a morning—hay deliveries late, a pipe burst near the barn, one of the cows decided today was a great day to crash through a fence—I’d already been one minor inconvenience away from lighting a match and walking off into the sunset.
By lunchtime, I’d sweated through two shirts and bruised my hip on a gate latch.
Throughout it all, Zoe’s text from the other night replayed in my mind.
Just go for it. You’ve got nothing to lose, Liv.
And I’m telling you, it echoed in my head for hours.
Though she’s not wrong. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the ad since the day I saw it.
By the end of the long, muddy, mucked-up day, I’d made my decision.
Because surely, surely, whatever was waiting for me here had to be better than another day spent scraping cow shit out of my boots and wondering if this version of life was really mine.
You only live once, right? And thank fuck for that, because there’s no way in hell I’m doing all this shit again. Pun intended.
I walk up the path, dust still clinging to my boots from the farm—a fresh pair, though you wouldn’t know it looking at them.
My nerves are buzzing, a low-level static under my skin.
This could be a complete disaster. Or it could be something.
I knock three times and wait, trying not to overthink my decision in coming here.
The door swings open, and a tall frame takes up the entire doorway immediately.
A pair of greenish-blue eyes lock on mine. Familiar eyes.
“Sebastian?” The name falls out before I even register saying it.
His brow pulls tight. “Little Mitchell?”
Oh, God.
“What… what are you doing here?” Great. Brilliant. Way to sound composed.
He leans a shoulder against the doorframe. “I live here. What are you doing here?”
I blink, gripping my phone tighter. My mind goes completely blank for a beat before the words tumble out. “I’m here for the ad.”
He just… stares. Like he’s trying to jam a puzzle piece into a space it clearly doesn’t belong. His mouth opens, closes, opens again, but nothing comes out. “The…” he manages.
“Well?” I lift my brows, tapping the toe of my boot against the step. “Are you gonna invite me in or what?”
After the day I’ve had, my patience is hanging by a thread.
Which is ironic, considering I’m apparently applying for a babysitting position that requires peak patience and saint-level calm.
Sebastian lingers in the doorway a moment too long, those light eyes narrowing slightly like his brain’s still catching up. Finally, he steps aside.
“Thanks.” I stride past him, doing my best to ignore the way the house smells.
Fresh coffee, clean laundry, and something warm that makes my chest ache in a way I don’t want to name.
The place is unexpectedly nice. A long, timber-floored hallway runs through the centre, leading into a wide, open-plan lounge and kitchen.
It’s all sun-drenched walls, high ceilings, and quiet charm.
The lounge is a minefield of tiny Lego towers and tiny cars, all in colour-coded piles.
My lips twitch at the sight. Somewhere in the background, a dog barks sharply, only once, then goes quiet.
There’s a familiarity here.
Sebastian finally appears behind me, brow furrowed, that same confused expression still fixed in place. I frown. “Why do you look so confused right now?”
“That would be because…” He rubs his jaw. “I am.”
“But… I texted you?”
“You texted me?” he mimics, dryly. “No, you didn’t. I don’t even have your number.”
My frown deepens. “Okay, well, I saw the ad on the board in town. Messaged the number. Got sent this address. I assumed it was you.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Well…” I shift my weight. “This is awkward.”
“Yeah.” His arms cross. “You’re actually here for a babysitting job?”
I nod. “Are you actually looking for a babysitter? Or was this all some elaborate prank?”
He huffs a laugh, glancing off to the side. “No. I actually do need a babysitter.”
“Oh, okay. Well then…” I lift my brows. “Here I am.”
He scoffs. “No. This is not happening.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because?” I echo, folding my arms, one hip popped in challenge. “Wait… is this about Bradley? What, you’re too scared to hire your best mate’s sister as your babysitter?”
Sebastian glares. “Do I look like the type to be scared of your brother?”
I give him a slow once-over. Broad shoulders, jaw like granite, biceps flexed beneath his black tee. Eyes that say things his mouth probably never will.
“No.”
Silence stretches between us for a beat.
Of course, I knew Sebastian Daniels was a single dad.
I didn’t know the details—the how or the why—but never in a million years would I have guessed that scribbled ad belonged to him.
There are plenty of parents in Wattle Creek.
It could’ve been anyone. But of course, it just had to be him.
He sighs, dragging a hand over his mouth.
“Look, this past week’s been chaos. I don’t know how all this came about, but I actually do need someone I can rely on.
I’ve already lost two babysitters, and I’m not planning on losing a third. ”
I nod, arms dropping slightly. His tone’s changed. There’s weight behind the words now.
“This isn’t your average babysitting gig. It’s more than that.” His jaw tightens. “My son, Teddy… he has level two autism. He needs someone who understands that structure and routine matter. That small things are big things for him. And I need someone I can trust. Fully.”
My throat tightens, but I nod again. It’s not what I expected him to say. At all. But I’m here now. And despite the chaos of today—and the fact that this is Sebastian Daniels—I’m ready.
“So what you’re saying is… you don’t trust me to do this?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He runs a hand down the back of his neck. “Do you even have experience with babysitting?”
“Uh, no. Not officially. But I have four nieces and nephews. That must count for something, right?” The look on his face makes it very clear that it doesn’t.
I lift my chin anyway. “Listen, I grew up with two brothers. You know that. I survived fistfights, practical jokes, and Bradley’s mood swings before I even hit puberty. I think I can handle a five-year-old.”
But the doubt’s creeping in now, threading cold fingers through my ribs. “Anyway… look, maybe this was a mistake. I’ll go. Sorry for wasting your time.”
I make a move toward the front door, but his voice stops me short.
“Olivia, wait.”
I turn slowly.
He exhales, eyes narrowing like he’s already regretting what he’s about to say. “When can you start?”
A grin pulls at my lips before I can stop it. “Whenever you’d like me to.”
His mouth twitches even though it’s not quite a smile. “Sooner rather than later would be preferred. It’ll be early morning drop-offs, afternoon pick-ups, and minding him until I get back from work.”
“Sounds fine with me.”
His gaze drags over me again, slow and full of disbelief. “Of all the people in Wattle Creek…” His eyes land on my boots, then flick back to my face. “You.”
“Yup.” I shrug. “Me.”
Before he can say anything else, I hear the soft patter of feet on floorboards.
I glance up. A small figure rounds the corner and steps into the room.
Teddy. He’s smaller than I remember. Brown hair.
Big eyes. He clutches a Lego piece in one hand, not sparing me a glance as he walks straight past, drops to the rug, and begins arranging cars with delicate precision.
Sebastian watches him closely, posture shifting. He’s straighter, tighter. Protective.
“Teddy, mate,” he says, voice softer now, “come here for a second. There’s… uh, someone I want you to meet.” Teddy pads over, looking at anything but me. “You remember my good friend Bradley? The guy I work with?”
The boy nods once.
“Well, this is his sister. Olivia.”
For a moment, there’s nothing. No reaction, nor acknowledgement.
Then he looks up, just for a second, and our eyes meet.
I smile gently and give a small wave. He doesn’t hold eye contact for long.
Just turns, walks back to the rug, and resumes his line of Lego cars.
Despite his looming presence, I walk past Sebastian and ease down onto the edge of the couch near Teddy.
I rest my forearms on my knees. “Those are some solid wheels you’ve got there, champ. ”
No reaction. Just another car added to the line, precisely spaced.
Still, I watch him. Quietly. And there’s something beautiful about it, the way he focuses, the calm that radiates off him in waves.
I glance back up at Sebastian, who hasn’t moved.
There’s something in his eyes I haven’t seen before.
Pride, maybe? Or fear. Or both. He steps further into the room, crouching near Teddy, picking up a small blue piece and offering it.
“This one’s next, right?” he murmurs.
Teddy doesn’t look at him either. Just takes the piece off his father and places it in the line.
Sebastian stays crouched, watching. Something warm nudges at me from the inside.
I don’t know Sebastian’s story. Don’t know why he’s doing this alone.
But I know one thing for sure—he’s built his entire life around this little boy.
I lean forward again, trying once more. “Bet that red one’s the fastest, huh?”
Teddy adjusts the red car one millimetre closer to the rug’s edge, and without glancing toward me, he nods quickly, then continues to line the rest. Well, a nod is something, right?
I settle back on the couch, letting silence fall like a blanket over the room.
I try not to make it obvious how much I’m observing.
My next words come out quiet, like I’m not quite ready to leave but know I have to.
“I… uh, I should get going now.”
Sebastian nods once, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Right.”
I glance back at Teddy, who is still kneeling in the middle of his Lego universe. “Bye, Teddy,” I say gently, giving him a little wave. His wide eyes dart up to mine, just for a heartbeat before they drop back to the line of cars in front of him. Baby steps.
I can sense Sebastian’s eyes on me, and when I turn, there’s this flicker in his expression, something soft, something that almost looks like…
empathy. Like he gets it. How moments like that, brief and quiet and hard-won, mean more than they seem.
I lift my hand in a small motion, a silent ‘it’s okay’.
Still, I leave the moment with a half-smile, because there’s something kind of beautiful about a kid so content in his own world.
Even if I don’t get invited in just yet.
Sebastian follows me as I make my way to the door. When I stop at the threshold, I turn, and suddenly, he’s close. Too close. And now that I’m really looking—
God. Has he always been this attractive?
Strong jaw, those greenish-blue eyes, broad shoulders that fill the space like it’s built just for him. Christ.
I clear my throat. “Well, this is not how I saw my afternoon going.”
His mouth tips into something caught between amusement and resignation. “You and me both.”
I smirk. “Glad to know I’m not the only one spiralling.”
He exhales a quiet laugh. “I’m still not sure if I just made the worst decision of my life or…”
“Uh, the best, duh.” I grin, finishing for him as I step outside. “I’m also exactly what you need. I mean, I am doing you a favour.”
The words tumble out before I can stop them. Too bold, too fast. Babysitter. That’s what I meant. Obviously. Except… it doesn’t sound like that. It sounds like something else entirely. His eyes hold mine for a second too long. Then he nods, barely.
“Guess we’ll find out.”