Cassidy grinned. "Seems like Mitch is in a hurry to get back to you."
"He's in a hurry to get home," I corrected her.
"Sure, he is," she murmured into her beer.
When they arrived, the reunion exploded into chaos, and all three siblings fired questions at Mitch before he’d even dismounted. Cassidy demanded to know what was going on. Kayden demanded to know who I was, and Declan asked if Mitch had seen Frank. Mitch deflected each question with clipped, evasive answers, and everyone talked over each other.
I stood off to the side, feeling like a stranger watching someone else's life unfold.
This was Mitch's world. His family. His land. His home.
Out in the scrub, it had been just the two of us with no ties to anything but each other. Simple. Raw. Real.
Here, surrounded by his siblings on the steps of this sprawling homestead that had stood for generations, the distance opened between us like a chasm.
I'd been so caught up in falling for him that I hadn't stopped to consider what loving him would actually mean. He wasn't just a man. He was a Branson, bound to this land and these people by blood, history, and obligations I couldn't begin to understand.
I was just a trespasser passing through.
Mitch's gaze found mine across the verandah. “You good?”
I nodded, and for one suspended moment, everything else fell away, leaving just him and me and all the things we hadn't said.
"Mitch, get your ass inside. We need to treat your wounds." Cassidy grabbed his arm.
"But—"
"We’ll pick this up again over dinner." She steered him toward the door.
He looked at me over his shoulder once before disappearing inside.
I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the jagged cuts across his back as he walked away, wondering if what we'd had out in the wilderness could survive here in the real world.
Wondering, too, if there was even a place for me in his world.
Chapter 30
Mitch
* * *
The dining room smelled of garlic and rosemary and the kind of home-cooked meal I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. I sat at the long wooden table with my siblings around me and Charlie at my side, and for the first time in ten years, it almost felt like home.
Bella stepped in from the kitchen carrying a platter that smelled so damn good my mouth watered. I guessed she was in her late twenties. Bella had fiery red hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who’d lived half her life in busy kitchens. She set the platter down in the center of the table, offering a small smile.
“Roast lamb with garlic potatoes and herbed vegetables,” she said. “Gravy’s in the jug.”
“Yum,” Declan said, rubbing his hands together.
“This looks incredible, Bella,” Cassidy said.
“Thanks,” Bella murmured. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Ladies first,” Cassidy announced, reaching for the tongs. She served herself, then passed them toward Charlie. “Better load up now before these savages clean it out.”
Charlie laughed as she took the tongs and served herself a modest portion. Despite the shower and clean clothes, she still looked uneasy, like she wasn't sure she belonged at this table. I didn't blame her. My siblings could be intimidating when they didn't know someone. Or trust them.
When Charlie handed me the tongs, I frowned at her plate. "Is that all you're having?"