Grumpy Billionaire Rock Star (Grumpy Billionaire Protector Daddies #1)
Chapter 1 Nicola
The organized chaos of dismissal begins, and I navigate through hugs and high-fives, seeing each child out the door and into the waiting arms of parents or onto the yellow school bus.
By the time the last student departs, the room is strangely silent, amplifying the exhaustion that hums beneath the surface all day.
I sink into my desk chair, the worn fabric sighing in protest. My to-do list, scrawled in frantic handwriting on a sticky note, glares back at me:
Groceries
Banking
Hardware store – paint samples, faucet.
Call Riley.
Replace Bathroom faucet
Just reading it makes my shoulders tighten. A relentless cycle of bills, repairs, and the constant struggle to stretch my teacher’s salary beyond its breaking point. All to keep, “It .
“It”, being. Maple House. The Victorian house stands proudly on the corner of Maple Avenue—wraparound porch, gingerbread trim, and the lingering, faint scent of Grandma Ruth’s lavender sachets clinging to every room.
My legacy. My burden. My sanctuary. All of those things, wrapped in peeling paint and shadowed by a leaky roof.
Grandma Ruth left it to me, her most prized possession, with a whispered promise on her deathbed: “Keep the house, Nikki. No matter what.”
I’m trying, Grandma. I really am. But sometimes, ‘no matter what’ feels like an impossible promise to keep.
Sighing, I shrug into my worn denim jacket and head out of the school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the empty playground. The walk home is usually my calming ritual. But today, a knot of unease twists in my stomach, a premonition I can’t quite shake.
Turning onto Maple Avenue, the familiar sight of my house, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, should bring comfort. Instead, my steps falter. Unease prickles my skin.
Curiosity, laced with a prickle of apprehension, propels me forward. I cross the street, my gaze locked on a fluorescent orange notice, BYLAW AMENDMENT APPLICATION. The words scream in bold, bureaucratic lettering, each one a hammer blow against my already frayed nerves.
My eyes scan the dense legal jargon under the headline, words blurring into an incomprehensible wall. Then, phrases leap out, sharp and distinct, chilling me to the bone. Multi-use zoning… Commercial development… Boutique hotel and spa.
Hotel. Spa. Here? Maple Avenue? In our quiet, residential haven of historic Victorians and manicured lawns?
Absurd. Impossible. Yet, the orange sign, with its official town seal, remains undeniably real.
Tucked into a plastic sleeve attached to the bottom of the sign, a smaller, less obtrusive notice. Applicant: Baxter Properties.
Baxter Properties. The name rings a faint, unwelcome bell.
Riley Baxter, my bestie... Riley’s brother.
.. Odin? Could it be? No, surely not. Odin Baxter, the rock star who vanished from Redwood Hills years ago, swallowed up by the roar of stadiums?
And the flash of paparazzi cameras? What would he have to do with property development, let alone a boutique hotel in our sleepy little town?
My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic tattoo of panic. A man is locking the front door he just came out of. Is that him?
Shaking my head, I pull out my phone, my fingers trembling slightly as I scroll through my contacts and tap Riley’s name.
It rings twice before she answers, her voice bright and bubbly as always, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me.
“Hey, Nic! I was just going to call you.”
“So you know? About the development proposal, your brother’s planning for my neighborhood?
“Odin just called me to surprise me. I had no idea. He’s on his way there now to check on his new property.
“I think he’s here. This is going to ruin the neighborhood!” The blood is pounding in my ears.
“Okay, okay, deep breaths.” She signs off, promising to find out more.
“Okay,” I breathe, feeling a surge of determination wash over me.
“Excuse me, Odin?” I call out to the tall man’s backside.
His eyebrow lifts, “And you are?” the droll tone sent shivers down my back as he turns towards me.
“I’m Nicola, Riley’s friend. It’s been a long time.”
“Did you buy this lot?” I ask as the breath leaves my lungs. Damn he's hot. When he left to pursue his music career, I was still in highschool, Everyone thought he was a heartthrob back then. His slow smile is only one grade above a smirk.The’s one thing that hasn’t changed .
“Sure did,” Odin says. “I thought it was high time for me to come home. Also, I want to do some good with driving new business to the town that gave me my start.”
“But you don’t mean you’re building a hotel here? This is a heritage neighborhood,” I blurt out.
“That's the plan. I owe a lot to Redwood Hills. I want to revitalize this community,” he begins, his voice smooth and commanding.
“This project will bring in the necessary jobs and tourism needed to encourage economic growth.”
As the reality of the situation sinks in, I feel anger rising in my chest.
“If you think progress means tearing down homes, you’re sorely mistaken. What about the families, the history?”
Odin meets my gaze with a mixture of annoyance and something darker, a flash of regret that passes too quickly for me to interpret.
“This is about bringing Redwood Hills into the future. An opportunity to make something better.”
“Better for who?” I challenge, gesturing to the people behind me.
“Your ‘future’ means tearing down our past.”
“This town needs to evolve, or it will die,” his parting words don’t leave much hope that he will change his mind easily.
I can’t let this happen. My resolve sets like concrete as I watch him drive away.
I have to fight this.
If grumpy billionaire Odin Baxter, thinks he can just land in town and bulldoze through my neighborhood, he’d better think again!
You want a fight Odin? Bring It.On!