8. Chapter 8
TRISTAN
Tristan frowned at his savings account balance. He’d been using his future hiking stash to keep Eve at bay, and it showed.
Although he’d told her that he’d only do this for a few months, he knew he was trapped. If he stopped, then she’d probably storm into The Pointe to destroy his job and Rain’s sanity.
He could put it all out there, have her banned from the wedding hall and possibly their lives, but all she’d done was hang out in the parking lot.
They didn’t grant restraining orders for that; the judge would laugh at him.
Besides, making a huge deal out of this would cause problems at work and with Rain.
He still felt like a fool for ever loving Eve. At least she’d kept her word about Rain, because lately he’d been downright happy building his photography career, protected from his mother’s interference and chaos by Tristan’s contributions, which softened the sting of Eve’s extortion.
And then there was Jax.
After shamefully avoiding him out of embarrassment, they’d shared a strangely hot and intimate kiss behind the building, and Tristan couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Jax had been haunting Tristan since the moment he first saw him, and it had only intensified with each second that they spent together, drawing Tristan in again and again.
On paper, they were so different, and Tristan still had issues with the age gap, but he wasn’t able to choose who he was pulled to; Eve was proof of that. Plus, Jax clearly had physical limitations and mental baggage, but who didn’t ?
Jax’s condition didn’t seem to be as easily fixable as Tristan’s, and he was in pain, so his frustrations were completely understandable.
But they didn’t affect Tristan’s attraction at all.
Every time Tristan glanced upon that striking face, it was like the trees parted to show him a glorious view, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all familiar, that they’d done this before.
It didn’t help that Jax could read him like a book, easily seeing behind Tristan’s hospitality mask and noticing that a particular guest had been troubling him all night.
“I want to drop a piano on that guy,” Gideon hissed as he left the main room and joined Tristan in the corner of the foyer.
Placing his camera down, he stretched his arms. “I’ve worked with a lot of assholes, but he’s in the upper tier, barking orders at me all day.
I can’t believe that his family lets him get away with that. ”
“He must be very insecure,” Tristan wondered aloud, pocketing his phone as Gideon laughed.
“He needs someone to put him in his place, someone who won’t get fired.” Done stretching, Gideon picked up his gear, balancing the bottom of the gimbal on his hip, and as he looked toward the party, his eyes widened. “Oh shit, speak of the weasel, here he comes.”
Seconds later, Paulie was standing in front of them, snapping his fingers in Tristan’s face.
“While you’re gossiping in the corner, my cousin is waiting to cut the cake!”
That wasn’t true. The Pointe ran weddings on a schedule approved by the clients. Sure, they could change things, but the couple had just told Tristan to take a break so they could have their dinner.
“Sir, I understand, but the cake cutting isn’t for another thirty minutes.”
Paulie crossed his arms, eyeing Tristan. He’d been combative all night, trying to goad Tristan into sinking to his level, but Tristan constantly refused, killing him with kindness as his mother had taught him. But it only seemed to make matters worse.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Paulie’s tone was all hostility, yet Tristan’s placid demeanor didn’t crack. In the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t the worst person Tristan had ever dealt with. He wasn’t even in the top twenty.
“Aren’t you waiting on your steak?” Gideon asked dryly, and Tristan winced, knowing that he’d just poured kerosene on the fire.
Stepping over to the videographer, Paulie tried to get in Gideon’s face, but he came up a foot and a half short.
“Why aren’t you working?” he barked.
Gideon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and opened his mouth to retort, but someone else beat him to it.
“Quit bothering the staff.”
Tristan’s jaw dropped as Jax approached, his chef’s jacket gone, replaced with a black blazer and navy-blue tie, as if Jax were a guest, not The Pointe’s sous-chef.
Paulie rounded on Jax, spinning so fast that he almost stumbled. “Who the fuck are you?”
Jax briefly met Tristan’s gaze, gave him the smallest of smirks, and then crossed his arms, mimicking Paulie’s stance.
“Me? I’m J, the bride’s friend and the spokesperson for everyone. News flash, we’re all tired of your bullshit. You didn’t pay for this wedding, and you’re ruining the day by being an insufferable asshat.”
Paulie sputtered as Jax continued, the devil to Tristan’s angel.
“You’ve been hassling these guys like you have small-dick syndrome.
Let them do their job.” Getting closer, Jax seemed to loom over Paulie.
“I don’t wanna see you botherin’ anyone for the rest of the night.
” He sounded like he was in a gangster movie, and his words echoed across the foyer.
By this point, some guests and servers had gathered by the door, but Tristan didn’t see any of the bridal party yet.
Despite how angry Jax claimed to be, Tristan trusted him not to cross the line because he was using his powers for good, standing up for everyone like it was something he did all the time.
Sure, his approach was unconventional and it might blow up in his face, but Jax was brave enough to try.
Tristan could learn a thing or two from him.
“Y-You wanna take this outside?” Paulie stuttered after a good ten seconds of silence. There were more people watching now, and Tristan recognized the groom’s brother as he broke from the pack and walked over.
“Naw, Paulie, pack it in. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this guy’s right, and I don’t want you pissing off my brother.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Paulie snapped back, not at all deterred.
“You want me to go get my friends?” He took a threatening step closer, radiating the same kind of energy as Jax. “Because you can leave now, or we can make you leave.”
“I’ll help!” Jax offered, raising a hand. Tristan met his gaze and Jax grinned this time, winking at him and making his heart race.
“But, I’m helping, Antonio! I’m making sure their day is on point!” Paulie went straight to defensive, and Gideon huffed while Jax rolled his eyes.
“And you can help even more by leaving .” Grabbing Paulie by the collar, Antonio quickly hauled him off. “I’ll tell the bride and groom you said goodnight!” he declared as they exited through the glass doors.
“I should have gotten that on camera!” Gideon exclaimed, laughing as Jax walked over.
“That could’ve gone really bad if the wrong people saw that.” Tristan couldn’t help but be impressed. “But thank you. The rest of the night will go much more smoothly now.”
“You’re very welcome.” Jax dusted off his hands. “Although the other guy did most of the work.”
“Still, I appreciate you coming to the rescue,” Tristan chuckled, enamored with how Jax looked in his makeshift suit.
“I heard he was giving you a hard time. And you know what? That’s my job.” The way Jax said it, along with the smirk on his face, had Tristan flushing.
“Oh, look, a wedding!” Gideon exclaimed, heading back into the main room as most of the audience dispersed, leaving Jax and Tristan alone in the corner.
“Buy me a drink after work?” Jax asked, their eyes still locked, and Tristan replied automatically, the last of his resistance crumbling.
“Of course.”
A few hours later, they walked into Bar None, the official post-Pointe hangout spot, half-owned by Marci’s new husband.
She’d met him years ago when he was the bartender and, according to her, she’d never felt so strongly about anyone before.
Tristan couldn’t help but compare that to the way he’d been feeling about Jax; it was like all of his doubts didn’t matter, and Tristan wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.
“What can I get you?” Tristan instinctively put his hand a couple of inches out from Jax’s lower back, being a protective layer between him and any wobbly patrons in the crowded bar.
“I know I said drink ,” Jax looked a bit sheepish, “but I would really like a cup of tea with one sugar. You can ask at the bar, they’re cool about it.”
Tristan smiled, lighting up. “I’m not a fan of alcohol myself, but tea is another story. And we take it the same!”
“I don’t understand people who use a ton of milk and sugar. I want to taste the tea!” Jax stopped in a less-populated corner.
“Agreed.” He looked around as if they were being spied on and continued in a hushed tone. “Sometimes I feel like an outsider because I don’t enjoy alcohol or coffee.”
Jax tossed his head back with a laugh.
“I’m in friendly territory! I’ve tried coffee but…” He scrunched his face. “Too bitter. I can take it as flavoring, but not as a liquid. Tea is my only addiction.”
“Then I can’t let you go without!” Tristan smiled. “Be right back.”
Heading to the bar, Tristan placed his order, and the bartender handed him two large mugs full of an impressive herbal blend.
“Thanks!” Quickly paying, Tristan weaved back to Jax, liking the quieter area he’d chosen.
“Sick!” Jax stated as he grabbed his mug. “One of the bartenders is into tea, so they always keep the good stuff on hand.”
“They do! By the way, is standing better? Or do you want me to get us a table?” Tristan asked, gesturing at the free one next to them.
Jax gave him a faint look of surprise before grinning.
“Standing is good.” He paused for a moment, as if he were contemplating what he wanted to say. “I can sit, but only on tall chairs with no cushion. Obviously, I sit in the car, but even with the adjustable seat, I can’t drive more than an hour without taking a break.”