Chapter 6
Olivia
Wild One - Faith Hill
Iget Teddy to school on time. Gold star for me.
It’s my first official day on the job, and somehow, we managed to make it through the morning without a single meltdown.
Not that it was smooth. Not even close. He’d insisted on finishing a Lego tower before we left.
And when I gently tried to nudge him along, his whole body went still—rigid in a way that made every part of me freeze too.
One wrong move and I knew I’d either push him into a spiral, or worse, shut him down completely.
So I sat there, counting quietly under my breath, waiting until he was done.
Only then did he slip his little hand into mine and let me guide him out the door.
My heart kind of stuttered then. So yeah, we were on time. Barely. But I’ll take it.
Theodore, I found out, is his full name.
But when I called him that yesterday, Sebastian shut it down instantly.
“It’s Teddy,” he said with a look that left no room for argument.
Like that one detail meant more to him than everything else we’d covered.
Like getting it right mattered in a way I didn’t fully understand yet.
But I’m learning. Slowly. One block, one quiet moment, one step at a time.
By the time I slide into my car after my first successful drop-off, the adrenaline is still humming in my veins.
We’d talked about it—briefly. Just enough for me to know this whole setup is casual. Sebastian said he’d have time off at the end of the year, and until then, he needed the help.
This is fine, I tell myself. I can handle this.
Except I’ve never handled anything like this before, and the weight of not wanting to let Teddy down presses hard against my ribs. My phone lights up with Bradley’s name. Of course.
“Morning, sunshine,” I say, forcing cheer into my voice.
“You’ve got to stop making impulsive decisions, Liv.” His tone is softer than I expect, but it lands like a punch anyway.
I groan, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. “Nice to hear from you, too.”
“I mean it. You can’t just jump into things without thinking.”
“And you can’t parent me over the phone,” I snap, eyes on the road as I pull away from the kerb. “I’m not twelve.”
“With the way you act sometimes, I wonder.”
Heat prickles at the back of my neck. Easy for him to say.
Bradley has never failed at anything in his life.
Not once. Meanwhile, I’ve tried everything.
I did the studying. I got the shiny bachelor’s degree.
I ticked the boxes, and in the end, none of it fit.
None of it was what I wanted. Being the youngest Mitchell means there’s always been this invisible pressure to keep up, even if nobody ever said it out loud.
Mum and Dad never pushed. My brothers never compared.
But I did. I compared. Because I don’t want to be the one who falls short. I can’t be.
“I’m serious, Liv. You can’t just—”
“You can’t tell me what to do anymore,” I bite out. “I’m an adult. What I do, who I hang out with, who I date—it’s none of your business.”
He scoffs. “What the fuck does dating have to do with this?”
“Oh, you know what I mean.” My grip on the wheel tightens. “My whole life, you’ve dictated what I do and how I do it. You have no right. Is it because he’s your best friend? Your work colleague? Get over it.”
“Liv—”
“No, don’t ‘Liv’ me.” My chest tightens. “You secretly dated my best friend, remember? And I survived.”
He almost growls through the phone. “Don’t get any ideas in your head. This is different. He’s got responsibilities. Big ones. This isn’t like some boy your age.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because part of me thinks that’s exactly the point. Older men have always seemed more put-together. More certain. Like they know what they want. But what do I know? I’ve barely figured out what I want.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter.
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Or reckless.” His voice softens, and for a second, he’s not lecturing me, he’s just my brother. My worried brother. “That’s all I’m asking.”
My throat tightens. “Fine. I promise. Happy?”
“Not even close,” he says, but there’s a trace of warmth now. “Talk to you later.”
The line clicks dead. I drop my phone into the passenger seat, groaning loud enough to startle myself. Five minutes later, it rings again. I slap my hand over my face before answering without even looking to see who it is.
“Why is everyone calling me this fucking morning? It’s not even ten a.m.”
“Exactly,” Xavier’s voice fills my ear. “And you’re not here. Why the hell do I need to find out from Bradley that you’re not working with me anymore?”
I grin, even though he can’t see it. “Surprise.”
“Surprise?” he shoots back. “You call bailing on me a surprise? Jesus, Liv.”
I roll my eyes even though I know he’d kill me if he saw it. “Relax. You don’t even need me half the time. You’ve got Nash, Toby, and a whole line-up of blokes ready to work seven days a week. If it were up to you, you’d do the whole bloody farm yourself and be done with it.”
A sharp huff rattles through the line.
“You’ve been carrying this place on your back since Dad slowed down. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty leaving you to it.”
“Yeah, well. Guilt doesn’t feed cattle.”
That one stings more than it should, but I don’t let him hear it. “I’m on my way home now. We can continue this conversation there, and you can give me the full Mitchell brother lecture face-to-face.”
“Oh, you’ll get it,” he warns, but his voice softens by the end. “Drive safe.”
“Always.” In no time, I’m pulling into my driveway. I cut the engine, slump back against the seat, and finally check my phone. The girls’ group chat is blowing up.
Isla: Well? Did you get it??
Imogen: Don’t keep us waiting, drama queen.
Zoe: Spill.
A grin pulls at my mouth as I scroll, thumbs already moving.
Me: Good morning ??Isla: Stop dodging. Job? Yes or no?
Imogen: I’m betting yes. She’s got that smug tone already.
Zoe: I second that.
Me: Fine. Yes. I started today.
Zoe: I knew it. You’re officially a babysitter doll ??
Isla: You could’ve babysat for me and saved yourself the hassle!!
Imogen: Or me. At least you already know my kids’ chaos levels!
Me: Nope. Wouldn’t take your money. And I actually need to earn more cash, so this way works.
Isla: Rude. I pay in wine too, you know.
Imogen: And I pay in baked goods. You’re missing out.
Me: Still no. My bank account doesn’t accept cake as currency.
Imogen: Well… God help the person who hired you.
Me: Lol. Wanna know the best part? It’s Sebastian Daniels.
Isla: WHAT.
Imogen: Excuse me?? Plot twist I did NOT see coming. Teddy is adorable!
Isla: He’s screwed.
Imogen: Correction: you’re both screwed. Have you seen what Sebastian looks like?
Me: That’s it. I’m telling Harrison.
Zoe: Play nice. He obviously needs this more than you realise.
Amelia: Oh my! Wait until Bradley finds out.
Me: Oh he already knows…
Zoe’s message lingers on the screen longer than the others.
While the others tease, laugh, make it feel like gossip, Zoe’s words cut deeper.
Grounding me. My grin slips, the weight of it pressing in.
I drop the phone into my lap and stare out at the front door, determination settling in my chest. Because this isn’t just a job, and it sure as hell isn’t about proving my brothers wrong.
This is about Teddy. About not failing him. About not failing myself.
Inside, the house smells like coffee and Mum’s lemon polish. Xavier’s at the kitchen table. He looks up, shakes his head slowly, and I brace. “You’re brave showing your face here.”
I grab an apple from the fruit bowl before sinking into the chair opposite Xavier. “Oh, so dramatic. Relax. I told you, you don’t need me on the farm.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you there,” he mutters, but his voice is low enough that it almost doesn’t land.
My chest tightens. Of course, he wants me there.
I’m his little sister, and this is what we do.
Dad shuffles into the kitchen slowly. He doesn’t say anything, just lowers himself into his chair with a soft grunt and wraps both hands around his mug.
His silence is a language all on its own.
“I got a new job,” I say into the quiet.
Mum perks up instantly. “Oh? Doing what?”
I hesitate for half a second. “Uh… babysitting.”
Her brows shoot up. Xavier snorts. Dad takes a long sip of coffee, eyes fixed on the window like he’s watching the fields grow.
“Babysitting who?” Mum asks carefully.
“Sebastian Daniels’s son,” I blurt.
Xavier chokes, coughs, then manages, “No fucking way.”
I frown. “Didn’t Bradley tell you this?”
“Obviously not.”
“Okay,” I shoot back, trying for nonchalance even though my heart is pounding. “It’s just a job. He needed someone. I needed work. Simple.”
Mum tilts her head, considering. “Sebastian’s a lovely man. Always polite. And his boy seems real sweet.”
“See?” I point at her like she’s just delivered the closing argument of my case.
“You have work here,” Dad says, his voice steady, unbending.
I exhale hard, gripping the apple tighter. “Dad, it’s not the same. I wanted something for myself. Something that wasn’t handed to me. Something I found on my own.”
His gaze doesn’t shift from the paddock. He just nods once before lifting his mug again. The silence that follows is heavier than any lecture. Mum reaches across the table, her hand warm as it closes over mine. “As long as it makes you happy, Liv.”
Xavier shakes his head, muttering into his plate, “You’re so bloody stubborn.”
I grin, even as my chest squeezes. “Runs in the family.”
Because the truth is, for once, this doesn’t feel like another reckless jump. Like I’m flailing just to prove I can keep up with everyone else. For once, it feels like the start of something I don’t want to run from.