Chapter 14 Odin
Dinner gives me, a gentle sense of something I haven't felt in years.
Contentment? Yeah, maybe that's it. Contentment.
It's been a long time since I've felt anything close to that.
Usually, it's just a dull ache of... something.
Loss? Guilt? A mix of both, probably. But tonight, with Mom and Riley chattering away, and Nicola's laugh warm and pleasant, the ache is. .. quieter. Muted. Almost gone."
I watch Nicola across the table at the Italian place, the candlelight flickering over her face, making her green eyes sparkle.
She’s animated, telling a story about a kid in her class who tried to convince her that his dog ate his homework – literally ate it, chewed it up and swallowed it.
Mom and Riley are cracking up, and even I find a smile tugging at my lips.
It’s... nice. Just nice. Simple. Normal.
Words that haven’t been in my vocabulary for a long time.
“You should see the look on his face,” Nicola says, wiping a tear from her eye. “He was so serious! Like, ‘Miss Williams, I swear, Buster just devoured my fractions!’”
Riley laughs. “Only you could make math sound entertaining, Nic.”
“Hey, it's important!” Nicola protests, playfully shoving Riley’s arm. “You need it for so many things! To bake, to share... to build!” She throws a pointed look my way, but there’s no real heat behind it. Just a teasing glint.
I raise an eyebrow. “It's also important for business, sweetheart.” The word slips out before I can stop it, and I see a flicker of something in her eyes.
Surprise? Maybe a little heat after all?
I kind o f like it. I realize how much I've missed this kind of easy banter, this feeling of connection around a table.
It reminds me of family dinners I haven't had in far too long.
“Oh, business,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically. “It’s always about business with you, Odin.”
“Someone has to be,” I murmur, taking a sip of my wine. It’s a rich red, smooth and dark, just like I usually prefer. But tonight, even the wine feels... lighter. Brighter. Like everything else.
The conversation flows around us, comfortable and warm.
It’s been years since I just relaxed and enjoyed the company of people who actually.
.. like me. Not Odin Baxter, rock star. Not Odin Baxter, billionaire developer.
Just... Odin. Riley’s brother. Mom’s son.
And now, apparently, Nicola’s fiancé. Even that ridiculous label doesn’t feel so heavy tonight.
Maybe because it’s fake. Maybe because of Nicola.
After dinner, Riley suggests bowling. Bowling. Seriously? The last time I went bowling, I was probably in high school, trying to impress some girl with my terrible bowling skills. But Riley is insistent, and Mom is all for it, and even Nicola seems intrigued.
“Come on, Odin,” Riley pleads, giving me her best puppy-dog eyes. “It’ll be fun! You haven’t done anything fun in ages.”
She’s right. Fun. Another word that’s been missing from my life. “Fine,” I grumble, pretending to be annoyed, but a small smile is already forming. “Bowling it is.”
The bowling alley is exactly what you’d expect in a small town like Redwood Hills. Slightly sticky floors, the smell of stale popcorn hanging in the air, and the clatter of pins echoing through the lanes. It’s... charming. And surprisingly normal.
We get shoes – mine are a size twelve in the two tone color of cream and rede that screams retro – and head to our lane. Stevie is bouncing with excitement, practically vibrating with energy. She’s wearing a sparkly pink dress and her own tiny bowling shoes, looking like a miniature disco ball.
“Daddy, can I go first?” she asks, her eyes wide and pleading.
“ Sure, kiddo,” I say, handing her a lightweight ball. “Show us what you got.”
Stevie takes her stance, mimicking the moves she’s seen on TV, and sends the ball rolling down the lane. It veers wildly to the left, ending up in the gutter with a pathetic little thunk . But she doesn’t care. She claps her hands and jumps up and down, giggling.
“That was a great try, Stevie.”
Nicola is surprisingly good at bowling. Not like, professional-level good, but she actually manages to knock down pins, unlike me, who seems to be perpetually stuck in the gutter.
Riley is decent, and Mom is... well, Mom is enthusiastic, if not exactly skilled.
And me? I’m a disaster. But I’m laughing.
Actually laughing. Like, real, honest-to-god laughter. It feels good. Really good.
Between turns, Nicola and Stevie are inseparable.
Nicola helps Stevie pick out balls, shows her how to hold them, cheers her on when she manages to knock down a pin or two.
Stevie is completely smitten with her, clinging to her hand, chattering away about school and princesses and unicorns.
It’s a lot to take in. Seeing Nicola with Stevie and seeing them connect so easily stirs something in me.
Something warm and hopeful. A feeling I haven’t allowed myself to entertain in years.
At one point, Stevie gets tired and curls up on Nicola’s lap, her head resting against Nicola’s chest. Nicola wraps her arm around her, stroking her hair, and starts humming softly.
Stevie drifts off to sleep for a few minutes, completely relaxed and peaceful.
Nicola looks down at her, a soft smile on her face, and my chest tightens.
Damn it, this woman is dangerous. Dangerous to my carefully constructed walls, dangerous to my icy heart.
“She’s out,” Nicola whispers, looking up at me. Her eyes are soft, the green flecks warm and inviting.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “That’s amazing. She really likes you
Nic ola’s smile widens a fraction. “I like her too, Odin. She’s a sweetheart.”
“She is,” I agree, my gaze lingering on Nicola’s face. The fake engagement, the town gossip, the hotel development... all of it fades away for a moment, leaving just us. Just Nicola and me, and the quiet hum of something... real.
Mom orders Sundays for everyone. Stevie, of course, wants a mountain of whipped cream on hers.
It’s chaos, spoons clinking, ice cream melting faster than we can eat it, and Riley and Nicola arguing about the best flavor combinations.
I’m mostly just watching Nicola, the way her eyes light up when she laughs, the way she licks a stray bit of ice cream off her lip. It’s something. Something good.
Back at my place, Stevie’s already yawning.
Bowling and ice cream are apparently exhausting work for a five-year-old.
Mom scoops her up, all grandma-mode activated, and carries her straight upstairs.
I hear Mom’s voice, soft and soothing, promising a story about a brave knight and a dragon who just wants to be friends.
Stevie’s giggling, and then it’s quiet. Mom comes out, smiling.
“She’s out like a light. The story will have to wait until tomorrow night. ”
Nicola’s gathering her things, and suddenly the thought of her leaving feels wrong. “I’ll walk you home,” I say before I can overthink it.
The air outside is cool and quiet, a nice change from the noise of the diner and the bowling alley.
We walk in comfortable silence for a bit, just the sound of our shoes on the pavement.
Then Nicola turns to me, her eyes serious but soft in the dim streetlight.
“Odin,” she says, my name sounding different coming from her, softer somehow.
I stop walking, and she stops, too, right in front of me. “Yeah?” My voice is rougher than I want it to be.
She steps closer, just a breath away. “Thank you,” she whispers, “for today. For everything.”
And then she’s leaning in, and I don’t hesitate. Her lips are soft, warmer than I expected, and it’s perfect. Just a quick kiss, but it sends a jolt right through me. When she pulls back, she’s smiling, a real, genuine smile that makes my chest ache in a good way.
“Goodnight, Odin,” she says, her voice still soft.
“Goodnight, Nicola,” I manage, my voice still a little rough. I watch her walk to her door, then turn and give me a small wave before she goes inside.
I stand there for a minute, just breathing, the taste of her kiss still lingering.