Page 57 of Branded Hearts

“Yep,” I call back, throwing up a thumbs-up.

“Just needed to catch my breath,” surprisingly, Amelia calls out, and the group turns back around.

“Righto. Chop chop,” my brother says, waving us to continue.

As we walk, I can’t shake the feeling that I might have crossed a line. Should I have flirted like that? Should I have made those comments? Am I being too friendly with her? Maybe it was the kiss that did it, making everything more complicated. Now, I find myself acting differently around her because of it. So much for those fucking rules I put in place. And now, all I can see is Olivia’s confused face.

As we catch up to the group, my heart pounds fiercely in my chest, a rhythm of guilt and confusion. Or maybe it’s clarity I’m denying. It’s wrong, what I’m doing. Kissing my sister’s best friend behind everyone’s back. But every time I see her, it’s like I’m shedding a layer of my armour.

Feeling less... guarded.

That kiss... It’s astounding how such a seemingly simple act can flip everything. But deep down, I know it’s not just about that kiss.

It’s something that’s been simmering, ignored for years. A longing, a connection I never acknowledged.

Fuck.

Sitting by the fire outside, near the balcony, I stare into the flames, lost in thought. Citronella sticks flicker, keeping mosquitoes at bay. Crickets chirp, and the river flows steadily. What a life it would be, living out here—secluded, peaceful. My mind drifts to an idyllic vision: a wife, kids, dogs, and family visiting occasionally.

But just as she has lately, Amelia intrudes on these thoughts.

Why am I picturing her like this suddenly? Could I see myself spending my life with her? It’s only been a few days and one kiss.

Settle down, champ.

Goosebumps prickle my skin, and I reach for my beer, taking a big sip to quiet my thoughts. The girls start talking, their voices tinged with disappointment.

“I can’t believe we have to go back to work soon,” Isla sighs.

“Ugh, I know,” Imogen groans. The guys chime in with low grumbles of agreement.

“Yeah, back to the grind,” Harrison mutters, taking a swig of his beer. “Joe will have our asses if we don’t.”

“Tell me about it,” Michael adds, shaking his head with a smile.

I listen quietly, the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of nature forming a soothing backdrop. Truthfully, I don’t mind the idea of returning to work. The routine, the busyness—it’s grounding.It gives me purpose, a sense of structure that I’ve come to rely on. While the others express their reluctance about going back, I find solace in the prospect of normalcy. But I keep that to myself, sipping my beer and letting the conversation wash over me.

“Has anyone seen my phone?” Isla asks out of the blue.

“Think I saw it on the table inside,” Xavier answers.

“Gee, thanks for grabbing it for me,” Isla says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry, ma’am. I’ll get that right away for you,” Xavier retorts, equally sarcastic but unmoving. Harrison makes a whip-cracking noise, and Xavier responds with a middle finger, eliciting a snort from me.

Amelia breaks the banter, saying, “I’ll grab it for you. I’m heading to the loo, anyway.”

“Oh, you’re a gem, Amelia. Thank you!” Isla says with a genuine smile.

I watch as she stands and disappears inside. I want to follow her, but I can’t. Since our kiss yesterday, all I’ve wanted is another momentalonewith her. I pause, unsure whether to follow her. The group has settled into conversation again, so slipping away shouldn’t raise eyebrows, right?

Ah, to hell with it.

What was that bullshit I spouted the other night about doing something selfish for myself? Yeah, this feels like one of those moments.

“Anyone else want another beer?” I ask, already heading towardthe screen door. Harrison and Xav nod, so I step inside and close the door behind me, making my way quietly to the kitchen.

I hear the faint sound of Amelia washing up, and soon enough, she emerges from the bathroom. Our eyes meet in the dim light of the house. Outside, the fading daylight offers us privacy unless someone stumbles upon us. The situation feels tense, my instincts at odds with reason. Yet, I can’t deny the pull toward her, like some damn magnet defying all logic and caution. She walks up to me, looking timid.

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