Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[ (8 page)

The blonde must have known what was happening and she rode him harder and fondled herself as she did. She came at the same time as Tristan, but was even louder as she finished. The blonde didn’t even take a breather before she got off the bed, put her clothes back on, and left. Tristan just laughed; she obviously was using him just as much as he was using her.

The minute she slammed the door to his apartment, meaningless sex lost its appeal for Tristan…if he really thought hard about it, it was gone the minute Peyton pushed her way inside his brain. It was time for him to face the fact that his life could no longer be what it was before. Not that he was really going to miss his former life of floating through life, being the asshole that no one gave a shit about in the end anyway. He’d been given the opportunity to have a do over, and the time had come for him to stop feeling sorry for himself. One way or the other, he was going to work to get his ass on the good side of the fence.

Tristan was up the next morning before eight o’clock; showered, shaved and dressed shortly thereafter. He had to use an old razor that he found in the medicine cabinet that was dull as shit, and he had to go over the same strip numerous times, but he got the job done and was ready to go before Uncle Morgan left for work.

The two discussed Peyton for a bit, or who Morgan called, ‘
friend
’, while using air quotes. Tristan growled at the bastard telling him to stay the fuck away with a death glare. He knew how screwed up it was to feel the need to protect someone’s virtue from his own uncle, but also fit exactly how protective Tristan felt towards Peyton already. She was a sweet, tiny little thing capable of bringing him to his knees with her angelic face, sweet nature, and gorgeous curves.

That coupled with the fact that Tristan was well aware of how badly his uncle used many of the women that he brought home for a night. Some of them were so badly bruised up that Morgan had to pay them off to keep quiet. It was one of the many reasons that Morgan did not like having Tristan living in such close proximity; his proclivities in the bedroom were freaky as hell, and he didn’t want it getting around what a sick fuck he was. He was more than fine being known as being the shadiest business man in town, but God forbid anyone knew that he liked anything other than straight old missionary sex.

Morgan had relented after dressing Tristan down, wrote him a check for two thousand dollars, and told him that he could have his job back at the plant in a month. This check would make them even for the time being, but Morgan would keep track of all the living expenses he’d taken care of in the last few months, and those would come out of his first paycheck. There was still the issue of his car that was at least half paid for, and where that ended up, but Tristan was just glad right now to have the one battle finished. It felt like he’d won this part, but not the war, and his animosity towards his uncle didn’t seem to wane.

Whatever,
Tristan thought as Morgan got into his town car and headed off to work. Maybe I will get my shit together and get out of this shit-ass town and move somewhere else to start over.
Someplace where no one knows who I am, where I came from, or how fucked up I am
.

With the money situation handled, Tristan shot Peyton a text, telling her that he was game for going to the gym today. He wasn’t sure if he had much for workout clothes at his apartment, but thought it wouldn’t be too hard to grab a pair from somewhere if he needed to.

Lunchtime came, and as promised, Peyton arrived holding two covered bowls in her hands, and a grocery sack hooked over her arm. “Lunchtime!” she singsonged as she stepped inside the apartment. She was still wearing his ski jacket from last night, and Tristan couldn’t help but smirk at her.

“Pretty cold out there, huh?”

“Ya huh, it is,” she nonchalantly answered before setting the two bowls on the counter. “Homemade chicken noodle soup. I use wheat-based thin noodles, low sodium chicken broth, and lots of fresh vegetables. Tastes just the same.” She pulled out of the bag two very tall reusable water bottles and handed Tristan one, along with a spoon from the dish drainer. “Dig in. I’m starved.”

Tristan wasn’t surprised that Peyton was in another grand mood. She’d never faltered yesterday, even when he made a feeble attempt at a come on. She just blew it off like it meant nothing and moved on. She was eye candy for him to look at, but she didn’t seem to
know
she was hot and used it to her advantage, like his usual women did.

Peyton was already aware of his recent problems and didn’t seem to care one way or the other.
Hey, she’s only nice to you because she’s paid to be,
his faulty subconscious sneered at him. He considered that line of thought for a minute, concluding that it could be possible she was just here because it was a job. Something about her made it seem damn near impossible for the girl to lie though. Maybe he would ask her a few questions? See if he could get a bit more of a read on her?

Neither one of them bothered to take their food from the small island in the kitchen, so they stood up to slurp their soup. In between mouthfuls, Tristan asked, “So, Peyton, do you have family here in Colorado?”

“Nope. Just me, myself and I,” she told him without even flinching.
Okay, so that didn’t really help
, he thought.
Try again…something she has to answer more than yes or no.

“Why did you choose to work at a place that houses handicapped people? I would think that would be extremely difficult to deal with day in and day out.”

Peyton nodded her head as she stared off into the distance and spoke. “Yeah, it is hard. None of my patients can help the situations they’re in, but not a one of them has a bad thing to say about their lives. They are perfectly content and happy to live there, and they are grateful for any bit of kindness given to them. They may have a mental or physical handicap, but that doesn’t mean they can’t give or accept love, kindness, friendship, and they do all of that without pause. Unlike the rest of the cold-hearted world.”

Peyton snapped her eyes back to Tristan, and gave an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry. That was a bit philosophical. Yes, it’s full of hardships, but it’s also full of some rewards that don’t come easy in life.”

Peyton was quick to focus on her soup again, and picked up her bowl and drank the remainder of the contents. Her words spoke volumes to him and even though she was embarrassed, Tristan was feeling much better about their arrangement, and Peyton’s motives, if she even had any. Either way, he knew they were finished with his little question and answer session.

Tristan smiled as he watched her set her bowl back down, and then wipe her face with a napkin; it was damn cute and he laughed before picking up his bowl, drinking the broth as well. She was right, it was damn good soup.

“Did you bring any more? That was good.”

“No, I didn’t. But, I brought peanut butter protein bars for dessert.”

Tristan tore into his and polished it off in two bites, before grabbing for hers. Peyton snatched it off the counter and shook it at him.

“Mine, you bastard!” she laughed. “Come on, let’s get on with this. I need to burn off some of this energy.”

Tristan couldn’t help the words that basically fell out of his mouth, “I know a really good way to work off some excess energy, babe.”

Peyton rolled her eyes and patted his chest with her cute, little hands. “I’m sure, stud. I don’t fall over with my legs in the air, though. You’ll have to work for it with me.”

Tristan couldn’t help the belly laugh that left his lips, and he slapped his thighs before he bent over to clutch his stomach with his forearm. “Oh hell…I like you, Peyton. You’re a straight-shooter, aren’t you?”

She just shrugged and pulled her coat back on and flipped her long ponytail out. “Something like that. I’m a simple girl. You don’t need a fuck buddy; you need someone that’ll help you to get better. I highly doubt that a quick screw will help you get there.”

Tristan set his elbow on the counter and rested his chin on his hand, tapping his fingers against his face as he pretended to ponder her question. “Hmmmmm. I don’t know, it might,” he shrugged.

They both laughed and Tristan pulled her in for a quick hug and then released her. “No, I get it. You were hired to babysit me,” he teased.

Peyton sobered up quickly. “You honestly don’t know anything about Chris, do you? That’s exactly the opposite of why he hired me.”

Tristan pulled on a winter coat of his own, and asked, “Why did he hire you then? Enlighten me, please.”

“You need to have this discussion with Chris, not me. I’m here to help you get better. End,” she lightly tapped his forehead with the tip of her finger. “Of,” flicked his nose. “Story,” tapped his chin.

They both stepped out into the late fall sun and were down the stairs, heading towards Peyton’s car in the driveway before he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Peyton. You know, it really doesn’t matter to me. It’s really nice to have someone around that isn’t looking for something from me. I appreciate it.”

She smiled at him, showing him her full megawatt grin, and she crinkled her cute little nose at him. “No problem. Let’s get to the gym before we freeze to death out here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted.

Chapter Nine

T
ristan and Peyton worked seamlessly together at the gym for the better part of an hour, each taking a turn at the different stations around the small, nearly empty gym that she was a member of, and now Tristan was, too. She was always encouraging and had hung by his side, even when she’d finished her work out.

Peyton looked adorable in her hip-hugging work out shorts and the matching tank that she wore; her long dark hair was pulled up, but cute little curls still framed her face. Her skin tone was a bit darker than most, and he wondered about her nationality. Hispanic, maybe mulatto, but in all honesty, he really had no clue.

There was a large tree tattoo covering her right bicep, and he could see a bit of an owl peeking out the back of her tank top on her shoulder blade. She had a lip piercing and small gauges in her ears. When her tank top would ride up, he could see a huge colorful flower tattoo that must have covered her entire rib cage and hip on the one side. She wasn’t completely covered in ink, but had the perfect amount of color on her body that added to her overall hotness.

When Tristan did his final sets on the shoulder press, he felt the strain all the way up into his neck and he grimaced when he finished; he rubbed at the tight muscles, but it didn’t help. Peyton didn’t hesitate in massaging his neck after he tried rolling it a few times to ease the pain, and it just made him growl in frustration.

Her soft hands felt like heaven as they loosened the knots that had formed as he did his reps. Tristan had forgotten how much trap movement was involved in the exercise, and his neck was tense as hell. It helped immensely when she worked his sore muscles, but wasn’t so much of a help down south, where a new muscle was aching.

“Great job, sweets,” she complimented him after they finished. “Won’t take much for you to get your body from hot to smokin’ hot. I’ll shower quickly and meet you out front.”

They both headed into their different locker rooms to get showered and changed. Tristan had been proud of all the hard work that he’d previously put into his body and the muscle mass that he’d built up. He knew what he lacked in height, he made up for in bulk; cut muscles down his arms and chest, including a solid core that led to a strong v-pack set. But he also knew that he had lost a good portion of that fitness, and was getting soft around the middle again.

To hear Peyton compliment his body was a sure confidence boost and had him seriously preparing himself to get back into the land of the living. He could take things slowly, see how each day progressed and try to go easy on himself. It sure beat the fuck out of sleeping all day in bed and eating greasy takeout on the floor. Maybe this wasn’t exactly what he
wanted
right now, but it was what he
needed
. It had been a seriously long fucking time since he felt this good about
anything
.