Chapter 13
Olivia
My brother practically went into cardiac arrest when he found out I was going to Sebastian’s parents’ house for lunch.
I’m talking hands on hips, pacing, doing that deep inhale he does when he’s about to deliver a lecture.
So dramatic, that man. Despite his performance, here I am, with a lemon tart in my hands, courtesy of Amelia, and nerves buzzing like I’ve consumed six coffees.
It shouldn’t be this nerve-wracking, right?
It’s not like I’m being introduced as a girlfriend.
God, no. No, Olivia. I’m invited because his mother has a heart bigger than the whole suburb, and because I’m Teddy’s babysitter. Not weird at all. Totally normal to meet your boss’s parents on a Sunday, right?
Excellent. My stomach somersaults.
The Daniels’ place smells like roast lamb, warm timber, and a life that’s been lived for decades.
Sebastian’s mother, Stephanie, already has me in the doorway before I can blink.
Apron flour-dusted, laugh lines softening every corner of her face, hair silvered through.
Older than I expected, but lovely nonetheless.
Warmth radiates off her like fresh bread out of the oven.
I love her immediately. And God, I can see exactly where Sebastian got his looks.
He’s a spitting image of her. Same bone structure, same piercing eyes, softened by ageing.
To my right, Sebastian’s dad sits in a well-worn armchair, newspaper folded to the crossword.
He lifts his chin once, eyes sweeping over me in a way that feels precise, almost forensic, but not unkind, much like his son, before he stands to shake my hand. “Welcome.”
“Thank you, Mr. Daniels.”
“Tim, please,” he corrects me.
“Okay, Tim,” I echo, tucking the detail away. A man who likes names set right.
Footsteps barrel in from the kitchen, and suddenly, a beautiful older woman appears. She’s got Sebastian’s jawline, his eyes too, only softer. A dish towel gets shoved at Sebastian while she wraps me in a hug that’s too warm for the weather.
“There she is! The famous Olivia.” She grins like we’ve been pals for years. “I’m Sandra. Come meet the kids, my husband, Andrew, and the prized lamb that can feed a small army.”
A man appears just as we file out toward the deck. Sandra beams, all hostess pride.
“Olivia, this is Andrew, my husband. And these two troublemakers are Lily and Timothy.” Lily’s twelve, Timothy’s nine, I learn afterwards.
They’re all elbows and questions, bright eyes darting like laser beams. I crouch down without thinking, smile wide, and Lily immediately asks about my boots while Timothy tries to guess my age.
I grin back, settling into the chaos that feels, strangely, a little like back home.
Teddy hangs back behind Sebastian. I keep my body angled toward the kids and turn just my head his way.
“Hey, champ,” I say softly. “Remember that yellow book? The one with the dinosaurs? I brought it for you. Just in case you want to read it or look at the pictures.”
He scans my face, then after a moment, steps forward with his palms out. The breath I’d been holding eases out of me when I place the book in his hands, because for him, it isn’t just a book.
It’s a bridge. The same book I read to him the other day, the same one he quietly picked up and clutched after he’d gotten overwhelmed when I’d accidentally packed up his blocks.
It means something. He clutches it and turns down the hall without a word, shoes pattering against the floorboards.
I glance at Sandra just as her brows lift high, like she wasn’t expecting that at all.
“Wow,” she says, blinking after him. “You’re really good with him.”
I try my hardest not to blush, but the heat betrays me anyway, creeping up my neck like a slow sunburn. “Oh, I just… It’s nothing,” I mumble, brushing hair behind my ear.
Sandra’s smile is warm and sincere. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re doing great. I can see it.”
I redirect my attention to Sebastian out of reflex, and find him already looking at me, watching with an expression I can’t quite read.
Before I can unpack it, we’re being ushered outside where Andrew is manning the barbecue, and Sebastian’s dad is settled nearby, nursing a beer in the corner.
The shade cloth stretched over the outdoor table is doing its best to hold off the heat, but this spring’s September sun is putting up a hell of a fight.
When we eventually sit down to eat, I discover that Sandra wasn’t lying about the lamb—it’s a showstopper.
The roast shoulder falls apart with a glance from the fork, the potatoes are golden and crisp with that perfect crunch, the beans gleam from a buttery glaze, and there are no less than three salads scattered across the table like edible artwork because apparently, one wasn’t enough.
Plates clatter, cutlery scrapes, conversation rolls.
Laughter tumbles around the table, and I just sit back for a moment and listen.
I don’t butt in, don’t offer anything of my own just yet.
I’m content to soak it in. Sandra launches into a story about Lily’s new obsession with gymnastics, how she cartwheeled her way through the living room last night and nearly took out the lamp, then adds that Timothy apparently discovered a passion for chess.
“Hey,” Timothy pipes up from across the table. “Nothing wrong with that.”
Sandra grins. “I suppose it’s better than your cow obsession phase.”
Andrew shakes his head, clearly reliving the memory with the fond exasperation of a man who has seen things. “Bloody cows,” he mutters.
I can’t help but laugh. That’s my in. “Actually… speaking of cows,” I say, raising a hand, “I once got headbutted so hard by one, I swear I saw stars. Launched me straight into next week.”
Sandra snorts into her water, and the ripple of laughter that follows makes me feel somewhat satisfied at my overhearing, no doubt.
What I don’t add is the part about Kevin the Asshole—because there’s no way to tell a story about that devil buck without throwing in a few colourful obscenities, and now is definitely not the time.
This, of course, turns the conversation toward farm work.
“So, you work on a farm? What’s that like?” Andrew asks, propping his elbow on the table. “Do you have farmhands? Or is it all you?”
“A bit of both,” I admit, picking at my lamb.
“I’ve lived on a farm my whole life, but these days, I work mostly with my older brother.
We’ve got help for the heavier stuff—machinery, fencing, mustering when we need it—but I still get stuck into plenty of it.
” I shrug, feeling a small smile tug at my mouth.
“Honestly, I prefer the mornings. After I drop Teddy at school and head out there? The routine makes sense. It’s quieter. Easier.”
Sandra nods, studying me with a thoughtful gaze. “That sounds like hard work,” she says gently, “but it suits you. You’ve got that capable energy about you.”
Before I can thank her, Lily leans across the table, wide-eyed and excited. “Do you have horses?”
“Two, actually. Blue and Duchess.”
And just like that, the next chapter of the conversation begins—one question unfolding into another, stories spilling freely, like wine refilled without asking.
Laughter ripples, and the knot in my chest loosens another notch.
Then, Tim, calm as anything, sets his fork down and asks, “Ah, so you’re Bradley Mitchell’s sister, aren’t you? ”
I freeze for a moment before plastering on my practised smile. “That’s me. The youngest Mitchell.”
Sandra tilts her head, fork poised mid-air. “Mitchell? As in your colleague, Bradley’s sister?” She turns to her brother. “That right, Sebastian?”
Sebastian gives a tight nod, his mouth set in a hard line.
Sandra’s face lights up. “Well, isn’t that something? I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place why. What a small world.”
My stomach dips at that, a slow, sinking thing I’ve known my whole life. The second Bradley’s name is mentioned, it’s like someone gently folds me up and slots me back into his shadow, precisely where I’ve always been. He’s the respectable one. He’s the one people admire, the dependable Mitchell.
“He’s a good man,” Stephanie adds, smiling as she serves another helping of lamb. “Always respectful when he calls. Speaks so highly of his family.” Her eyes settle warmly on me. “And look at you… so young and beautiful. Working on your family’s farm.”
The compliment lands softly, but it still makes my shoulders tense.
I know she means it. I really do. But it doesn’t make me feel any less awkward.
It conjures up images of Sunday dresses and polite smiles while grown-ups gushed over Bradley and Xavier like I wasn’t even in the room.
I adore my brothers. I do. But even the kindest spotlight can leave you stuck in someone else’s glow.
And the irony? I actually like attention.
I feed off it sometimes. But confidence isn’t a constant.
It’s something I dial up when needed—smiles, spark, all of it on cue. Just not now.
My eyes lift without permission and collides with Sebastian’s. He’s watching me. Not angrily. Not even warmly. Just like he’s seeing straight through me. Noticing the way my shoulders are stiff, how I’m pretending the praise doesn’t make my chest feel tight. It’s unnerving, and I don’t like it.
I want to look away first, but I don’t. So he does, clearing his throat to shift the table’s focus. His eyes flick to his side, and I follow it, already knowing exactly what he’s about to ask.
“Where’s Teddy? And Timmy?” he says loudly, catching everyone’s attention.
Sandra glances toward the yard. “Oh, they slipped off whilst everyone was chatting. They’re outside.”
My stomach dips. I didn’t even notice him leave—and I feel like I should’ve. Guilt punches through me as I push back my chair. “I’ll go check on him,” I say quickly, already rising.
The air outside is cooler now, fresh. Timothy’s on the trampoline, mid-flip, shouting, “Watch this!”
Teddy sits alone on the wooden deck, cars lined up in front of him, head bowed. I ease down beside him, careful not to crowd. “Hey, champ. Not feeling the trampoline?”
His fingers continue tracing the grooves in the wood. He doesn’t respond straight away, then murmurs, “It’s too noisy.”
His honesty tugs at something deep in me.
I swallow back the urge to tell him I love loud.
That noise feels like life to me. But that’s not what he needs.
I remember something I read late one night—some article about supporting kids like Teddy: validate first, then offer tools.
“Yeah,” I say gently. “It can get too much sometimes, can’t it?
When it feels too loud out here, you can tell me, and we’ll find a quieter spot together. Just you and me.”
His fingers pause on the car he’s nudging.
He glances at me, quick as a dart, then drops it to the ground, shoulders noticeably relaxing.
I think he liked that answer, even if he won’t say it out loud.
I fill the silence so it doesn’t turn heavy.
“This morning, I helped my older brother with the cattle. Nearly lost my boot in the mud. Again. Pretty sure the cows were laughing at me.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make my chest lift. “You work on a farm?”
“Sure do.” I lean back on my hands. “Born and bred. Even if my brothers think I’m useless half the time.” His eyes lift. I’ve got his attention now. “How about this? One day, I’ll bring you out to my farm. You can meet Blue. He’s one of my horses.”
His gaze narrows, testing me. “You have horses?”
“Mhm.”
“Promise?”
It’s the second time he’s asked me that word. Promise. My chest squeezes. Trust must not come easy for him. I hold out my pinky. “Pinky promise, bud.”
He hooks his small finger around mine, lips tugging into the faintest smile. My heart warms like I’ve won the bloody lottery. We sit in the quiet for a while after that, until the boards creak behind us and a familiar voice rolls over my shoulder. “Making pinky promises without me, are we?”
I turn around, wide-eyed. Sebastian stands by the door, one brow raised, with a smirk tugging at his mouth. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know you two are keeping secrets from me.” His gaze shifts to Teddy. “Dessert will be out soon.”
Teddy shoots up the second he hears him, posture snapping straight like dessert is a command.
I take my time, brushing my palms over my jeans before standing.
When I lift my eyes, Sebastian’s already watching us.
His eyes stay on Teddy a moment too long, soft in that way he probably doesn’t realise he wears, before they shift to me.
To me, though? His expression is unreadable.
Heavy. Like he’s trying to work something out.
It’s not the first time I’ve caught him looking at me like that lately, or maybe… I’m just noticing it more now.
“Everything all good?” His voice is low as he speaks.
I tilt my head. “With Teddy? Yup, we’re cool.”
He studies me for a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly. “Didn’t mean with Teddy.”
Oh. My stomach dips again. He meant me?
“I—yeah. Fine.”
It’s not the full truth, but it’s all I can manage under that stare. He’s not supposed to ask questions like that. Not about me. Not when I’m already toeing lines I shouldn’t even look at. His mouth twitches. Almost into a smile. Almost not. “My family can be… a lot. They love to ask questions.”
That softens me. Just a little.
“They’re lovely,” I admit. “Really. It’s just…
hard being Bradley’s sister all the time.
Feels like I’m walking around with someone else’s name tag pinned to my chest.” I force a grin back onto my face before the moment can get too heavy.
“Come on. Let’s have some dessert. I should probably go help your mum. ”
I move to step past him, but his voice follows, quieter this time. “What was the pinky promise about?”
I pause, glancing over my shoulder. “Now that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”
My tone is light, teasing. Deliberately vague. And before he can press, I step forward, brushing past him toward the house, pretending the warmth blooming in my chest is just the afternoon sun.