Chapter 20 Odin
I wake with a smile on my face. A dream of city lights and smiling green eyes is just fading as I turn off my alarm.
Memories of Nicola and our time in Atlanta flood my mind—her soft sighs, the way she arched beneath me, how perfectly we fit together.
I stretch in my bed at the pool house, savoring the lingering scent of her on my skin.
My phone buzzes with a text notification from my calendar - material deliveries for the hotel renovation are scheduled for today. Business as usual. But nothing feels usual anymore. Not since Nicola crashed into my life.
I step into the shower, letting hot water cascade over my shoulders. As steam fills the bathroom, my mind drifts back to last night. Nicola's green eyes darkening with desire. Her lips parting on a gasp. The silky feel of her skin against mine.
My cock hardens instantly. I wrap my hand around it, stroking slowly at first, then faster as images of Nicola play through my mind. Her body moving beneath mine. The way she whispered my name. The perfect tightness of her around me.
"Fuck," I groan, bracing one hand against the shower wall as pleasure builds. I imagine her here with me, water sluicing down her curves, her hands replacing mine. The fantasy is so vivid I can almost feel her breath against my neck.
My release hits hard and fast. I come with her name on my lips. I stand there, catching my breath, letting the tension roll off. When I towel off and step out of the shower I’m already three steps ahead, planning my day.
The world outside my window is transformed. What started as freezing rain last night escalated into a full-blown ice storm. Tree branches sag under the weight of their crystal casings. The entire landscape glitters dangerously in the early morning light.
I frown, checking the weather app on my phone.
The storm is already turning to rain as the temperature continues to rise.Too late for the morning commute.
Schools and businesses are closed. I text my mother to confirm she will keep Stevie for the day.
Then I grab my keys. I need to check on Nicola, but walking over is out of the question at the moment. .
The driveway is treacherous, ice making every surface slick and unpredictable. I drive carefully, tires crunching over frozen patches.
Then I see it.
A line of emergency vehicles parked haphazardly on the boulevard. Flashing lights cutting through the icy morning. All parked in front of Nicola's Victorian.
My heart stops. I barely remember to put the car in park before I'm out the door. Ice crunches under my boots as I head toward her house.
The massive oak tree that has stood sentinel over her property for more than a century has fallen.
Its enormous trunk crashed through the corner of her house, splintering the roof and collapsing part of the second floor.
Ice coats every branch, adding hundreds of pounds of weight that finally proved too much for the ancient tree.
"Nicola!" I shout, scanning the crowd of neighbors and emergency personnel. "Where is she? Is she okay?"
A firefighter steps forward, holding up his hands. "Sir, you need to stay back. The structure isn't stable."
"I don't give a damn about the structure. Where is Nicola Williams?" My voice comes out as a growl. Panic claws at my chest. If she was upstairs when that tree fell...
"Odin?"
Her voice cuts through my terror. I whirl around to see her standing on the sidewalk, wrapped in a thick coat, her face pale but unharmed. Relief crashes through me so powerfully my knees nearly buckle.
In three strides, I reach her, pulling her against my chest. "Jesus Christ, Nicola. Are you okay?"
She nods against my shoulder, her body trembling slightly. "I was in the kitchen. I heard this horrible cracking sound, then a crash that shook the whole house." Her voice wavers. "If I'd been upstairs..."
I tighten my hold on her, not wanting to think about what could have happened. "You're okay. That's all that matters."
Over her shoulder, I survey the damage. It's extensive. The tree has demolished the corner bedroom and bathroom, exposing splintered beams and broken pipes to the elements. Ice continues to form on the jagged edges, creating a macabre crystal sculpture.
A fire captain approaches us, clipboard in hand. "Ms. Williams? We've completed our initial assessment. I'm sorry, but the house isn't safe for habitation. The structural damage is significant, and with this ice storm continuing, there's risk of further collapse."
Nicola pulls back from my embrace, her face crumpling. "But... it's my home. My grandmother's home."
"I understand, ma'am, but we can't allow anyone inside until a structural engineer has cleared it. Even then, repairs will take time."
I watch as the reality sinks in. This house is everything to her—her heritage, her security, her connection to the grandmother who raised her. Now it stands broken, vulnerable to the elements. Just like Nicola herself.
"She'll stay with me," I say firmly, my arm still around her shoulders. "I have plenty of room at the pool house."
The captain nods. "Good. We'll need a contact number for the insurance adjusters."
"I' ll handle it," I tell him, already mentally listing the contractors I'll call. The best structural engineers. Restoration specialists who understand historical properties.
"Odin, you don't have to—" Nicola begins.
"Yes, I do." My tone brooks no argument. "You took care of me in Atlanta. Let me take care of you now."
A familiar voice cuts through our conversation. "Well, well. Trouble in paradise already?"
Greg Hoyston stands at the edge of the yard, surveying the damage with barely concealed satisfaction. His tailored coat and polished shoes look ridiculous against the backdrop of emergency vehicles and ice-covered destruction.
"Not now, Greg," I warn, feeling Nicola stiffen beside me.
He ignores me, stepping closer. "Quite a shame about this beautiful old home. Though I suppose it opens up interesting possibilities." His gaze slides to Nicola. "If you're looking to sell what's left, I might be interested. The lot alone has value, even with the cleanup costs."
Red flashes across my vision. I step forward, putting myself between Greg and Nicola. "She's not selling. And if you're here to capitalize on someone's misfortune, you can get the hell off this property."
Greg's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Just being neighborly, Baxter. After all, we're both businessmen. We recognize opportunity when we see it." He glances meaningfully at Nicola. "Some opportunities are more... personal than others."
My hands curl into fists. "Last warning, Hoyston. Leave."
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "No need for hostility. I'm just offering options." He turns to go, then pauses. "By the way, I heard the council is reviewing your permit applications for the hotel. Seems there are some... concerns about your plans. Might want to check your email."
As he walks away, I resist the urge to put my fist through his smug face. Greg has always been a problem, from high school rivalr y to business competition. Now he's using his connections on the town council to interfere with my development project.
"Don't listen to him," I tell Nicola, turning back to her. "He's just trying to get under my skin."
She nods, but her eyes remain fixed on her damaged home. "What am I going to do, Odin? That house is all I have left of my family."
"We'll fix it," I promise, taking her cold hands in mine. "Better than before. But first, let's get you somewhere warm. You can stay with me and Stevie as long as you need."
"I couldn't impose—"
"It's not an imposition. It's what people do when they care about each other." The words come out before I can filter them. I'm not used to being so transparent about my feelings.
Her eyes meet mine, searching. Whatever she sees there must reassure her, because she nods slowly. "Okay. Thank you."
"Let's get whatever you need from inside. I'll have someone come for the rest later."
The fire captain allows us a brief, supervised visit to collect essentials. We step carefully through the kitchen and living room, which are mostly intact but covered in debris. The staircase creaks ominously under our weight.
In her bedroom, Nicola moves quickly, grabbing clothes and toiletries. I notice her hands trembling as she reaches for a framed photo of an elderly woman—her grandmother, I assume. The glass is cracked, but the image is undamaged.
"She would have been heartbroken to see the house like this," Nicola whispers, tracing the frame.
"She'd be more concerned about you," I reply softly. "Houses can be rebuilt. People can't be replaced."
Nicola looks up at me, tears shimmering in her eyes. "When did you ge t so wise?"
"I've had my share of losses," I say simply. "You learn what matters."
We finish gathering her things and make our way back downstairs. Outside, the ice continues to accumulate, transforming the world into a beautiful, deadly crystal palace. Tree branches crack in the distance, the sound like gunshots in the quiet morning.
As we load her bags into my car, I make a silent promise. I'll protect her from this storm and whatever comes after. I'll rebuild her home and make sure she never feels this vulnerable again.
Because somewhere between arguing about zoning laws and making love in Atlanta, Nicola Williams has become essential to me. And I protect what's mine.