Chapter 30 Odin
The velvet box in my pocket feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I stand on Nicola's porch.
My heart hammers against my ribs while I balance a bottle of champagne in one hand and a small gift bag in the other.
Through the stained glass panels flanking her front door, I can see the warm glow of lights inside her newly restored Victorian home.
I take a deep breath. Tonight changes everything.
After weeks of planning, secret meetings with contractors, and more than a few white lies to keep Nicola from discovering my surprise, the moment has arrived. The ring burning a hole in my pocket represents more than just a piece of jewelry—it's my future. Our future.
I ring the doorbell, hearing the restored antique chimes echo through the house. Footsteps approach, and then she's there, framed in the doorway like a vision.
"You're right on time," Nicola says, her green eyes sparkling as she takes in my dress shirt and slacks. "And you clean up nice, Mr. Baxter."
I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "You're one to talk."
She's wearing a simple emerald dress that brings out the color of her eyes, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. The sight of her steals my breath away.
"Come in," she says, stepping aside. "I want to show you everything."
I follow her into the house, immediately struck by the transformation.
What was once a disaster zone after the fallen oak tree crashed through the roof is now a masterpiece of restoration.
The original woodwork gleams with fresh polish, the walls showcase period-appropriate colors, and the antique fixtures have been lovingly restored.
"Nicola, this is incredible."
She beams with pride. "I can't believe how it all came together. The contractors you recommended were amazing—they understood exactly what I wanted."
I hand her the champagne. "I thought we should celebrate properly."
"Perfect timing. Dinner's almost ready." She takes the bottle and the gift bag, raising an eyebrow. "What's this?"
"Just a little housewarming gift. Open it later."
Inside is a framed photo of her grandmother that I had professionally restored from a damaged one we found during the cleanup. It's part of my plan for tonight—connecting her past to our future.
She leads me through the house, pointing out details of the restoration with infectious enthusiasm. The dining room with its coffered ceiling and original chandelier. The library with built-in bookshelves that survived the damage. The kitchen with its blend of vintage charm and modern conveniences.
"You've preserved the soul of this place," I tell her, meaning every word. "Your grandmother would be proud."
Her eyes soften. "That means everything to me."
We move to the kitchen where delicious aromas fill the air. I lean against the counter, watching as she checks something in the oven.
"Where's Stevie tonight?" she asks.
"With my mother. She was thrilled for the grandmother-granddaughter time." I don't mention that my mother is in on the plan for tonight. That she helped Stevie make a special card for Nicola that's also tucked away in my pocket.
"I miss her," Nicola admits. "The house feels too quiet without her running around asking a million questions."
"She misses you too. She asked this morning when you're coming home."
Nicola pauses, wooden spoon in hand. "Home?"
"That's what she calls the pool house now. Home is wherever you are, according to Stevie."
A blush colors her cheeks. "She's going to be a heartbreaker someday, saying things like that."
"She gets it from her father," I joke, moving closer to steal a kiss.
Nicola laughs against my lips. "Her father is a grump who scowls at town council meetings."
"Reformed grump," I correct her, pulling her against me. "Thanks to a certain third-grade teacher who wouldn't take no for an answer."
We stand there in the kitchen, holding each other, and I'm struck by how right this feels. How natural. The ring in my pocket seems to pulse with possibility.
Dinner is perfect—roast chicken with herbs, roasted vegetables, and fresh bread. We talk about everything and nothing—Stevie's latest art project, the boutique hotel's progress, the upcoming school year. Underneath it all runs a current of anticipation that I can't quite hide.
"You seem distracted," Nicola says as we finish our meal. "Is everything okay with the development? Did Greg cause more problems?"
I shake my head. "No, everything's on track. The town council approved the final permits yesterday."
"That's w onderful!" She raises her glass. "To the Redwood Hills Boutique Hotel and Spa. It's going to be amazing."
We clink glasses, and I take a sip of wine, gathering my courage.
"Actually, I was hoping we could talk about something else tonight."
Her expression turns curious. "What is it?"
"Let's move to the living room. It's more comfortable there."
She follows me, settling onto the restored Victorian sofa. The living room is my favorite part of the house—the heart of it. The bay windows look out onto the street where my property sits across the way, where this all began.
I sit beside her, taking her hand in mine. "Do you remember the first day we argued about my development plans?"
She laughs. "How could I forget? I called you a 'soulless corporate machine' in front of the entire town council."
"And I called your preservation efforts 'impractical nostalgia.'"
"We were terrible to each other," she says, shaking her head.
"I was terrible," I correct her. "You were passionate and principled. You were fighting for something that mattered."
Her expression softens. "You weren't so bad. Just... focused."
"Stubborn. Arrogant. Closed off." I squeeze her hand. "I'd spent three years shutting everyone out after losing Stevie's mother. It was easier than feeling anything."
"Odin—"
"Let me finish." I take a deep breath. "Then you came along with your determination and your kindness to my daughter and your refusal to let me hide behind my walls. You challenged me at every turn."
Her eyes shine in the soft lamplight. "Someone had to. "
"When we started this fake engagement, I thought it was just a convenient solution to a problem. A way to protect your reputation and quiet the gossip." I shift to face her more fully. "I never expected it to change everything."
"For me too," she whispers.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the small velvet box. Her eyes widen as I slide off the sofa and onto one knee before her.
"Nicola Williams, nothing about my feelings for you is fake anymore. I love your passion, your kindness, your strength. I love how you've brought light back into my life and Stevie's. I love that you fight for what matters and never back down—especially from me."
Tears fill her eyes as I open the box, revealing the vintage emerald and diamond ring I chose because it reminded me of her eyes and the history she cherishes.
"This was never part of my business plan," I continue, my voice rough with emotion. But it's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
I take the ring from its velvet nest. "I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to build a real life with you—renovating old houses, raising Stevie, maybe adding to our family someday. I want to wake up to your smile every morning and fall asleep holding you every night."
A tear slips down her cheek. "Odin..."
"Will you marry me, Nicola? For real this time?"
She slides off the sofa to kneel in front of me, framing my face with her hands. "Yes," she whispers against my lips. "A thousand times, yes."
I slip the ring onto her finger with trembling hands, then pull her into a kiss that contains every promise I want to make to her. When we finally break apart, we're both breathless.
"I have something else for you," I say, reaching into my pocket for the card Stevie made. I hand it to Nicola, watching as she opens it.
Inside is a crayon drawing of three stick figures holding hands—a tall one with yellow hair, a medium one with brown hair, and a small one with pigtails. Above them in Stevie's wobbly handwriting are the words: "My Family."
Fresh tears spill down Nicola's cheeks. "Oh, Odin."
"She approved of the ring, too," I say. "Said it, the green matches your eyes and is sparkly like your smile."
Nicola laughs through her tears. "She's definitely your daughter."
"She's going to be over the moon when we tell her the engagement is real now."
"And Riley? Your mother?"
"They've been not-so-subtly hinting that I should make an honest woman of you for weeks now." I pull her close again. "My mother actually said, and I quote, 'If you let that girl get away, I'm writing you out of my will and leaving everything to Stevie.'"
Nicola's laughter fills the room. "I've always liked your mother."
We move back to the sofa, Nicola curled against my side, her head on my shoulder. The ring catches the light as she examines it.
"It's beautiful," she says softly. "How did you know I'd prefer vintage over modern?"
"Because I know you," I say simply. "You value history and connection. Things with stories matter to you."
She looks up at me, her expression tender. "This ring has a story now too. Our story."
"The beginning of it," I correct her. "We have a lot more chapters to write."
"Speaking of writing," she says, reaching for her phone. "Should we tell Riley and your mom now, or wait until tomorrow?"
"Let's wa it until morning. Tonight is just for us."
I pull her closer, marveling at how perfectly she fits against me.
Outside the bay window, I can see my property across the street—the place where our story began with arguments and misunderstandings.
Now it represents our future—her Victorian legacy and my new development, different but complementary, just like us.
"What are you thinking about?" Nicola asks, following my gaze.
"How sometimes the best things in life are the ones you never planned for." I press a kiss to her temple. "I came back to Redwood Hills to build a hotel. Instead, I found a home."
She turns in my arms, her newly ringed hand coming to rest over my heart. "And I was trying to save my home, never realizing home isn't just about a place."
"It's about people," I finish for her. "It's about family."
"Our family," she agrees, leaning up to kiss me.
As I hold her close in the house that means so much to her, surrounded by the legacy of her past and the promise of our future, I know with absolute certainty that I've found what I never knew I was looking for.
Not success or wealth or acclaim, but something far more valuable—love, belonging, and the chance to start again with the woman who challenged me to be better.