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Chapter 5

Breakfast at Peyton's

At nearly five am Peyton gave up the idea of any further sleep. Climbing from bed, she snatched her robe from the foot of the bed. Making her way to the bathroom, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "Ugh!" she thought last night's late evening and even later phone call taking their toll across her sleep deprived face. After hanging up with Stephen, sleep had been fitful at best. Every time she managed to doze off the sound of his lilting Irish brogue would flitter through her head.

Starting the shower, Peyton absently ran her fingers through her hair, as she waited for the water to become hot. As the water heated up, Peyton raced to the kitchen and started the coffee brewing. Slipping into the shower, Peyton sighed nothing to fresh hot water for tired weary bones. Nearly twenty minutes later, Peyton wrapped in fuchsia colored cotton bath robe hurried to her bedroom. Mumbling to herself about long showers and no time; she plopped onto the end of the bed staring into her open closet. Standing she ran hand her along the hangers, rummaging for something to wear. As she made her third pass through her small wardrobe she stopped. "This is silly," she admonished "you're a grown woman. Stop acting like a giddy school girl." Her little self-pep talk sure sounded good, but did little to calm to warring butterflies competing for the lead in her stomach. Settling on her long dark wash denim skirt, Peyton felt a little better. As she searched for a matching blouse, she smiled when her fingers brushed her favorite cotton top. A gentle mix of deep purple and cream it would be the perfect fit with her skirt. Kneeling in front of the closet, she began to search for shoes to complete her outfit. Rummaging through her small shoe rack, she thought she heard noise coming from the living room. Stilling for just a brief moment she listened. Hearing nothing further she resumed her scrounge for shoes. As she came across her black leather boots, she heard the noise a second time. Tossing her boots on to the bed, she stood and headed to the living room.

Preparing to knock a third time, Stephen began to wonder if he had the right apartment. He wasn't prepared for the instant total mind and body reaction he had as the door slowly opened. This was obviously a different side to the woman he spent last night with. The woman last night intrigued him with her air of gentle softness. As he took in the woman before him; with her hair wrapped turban style above her head, no makeup, and bare feet – he was overwhelmed by the vulnerability he sensed from her. "Stephen" she whispered a little breathlessly.

Smiling warm and hearty "Goo' Morning lass, am Ah' a little early?"

After last night, Peyton found herself strangely, nearly uncomfortably drawn to the large Irishman. Although she had been the one to extend the breakfast invitation; she was suddenly debating the wisdom of that idea. She had created a comfortable single life for herself. Stephen standing so larger than life at her front door called into question, all of her thoughts and emotions for more than the last five years. As they stood silently watching each other, she wondered idly if he could sense her inner struggle; she prayed not. Suddenly as if awaken from a dream, she snapped out of her musings. "I'm sorry" she murmured blushing hotly "Please come in." She moved hesitantly from the door way motioning for him to follow.

As they moved towards the kitchen, Stephen took a minute to gaze around at his surroundings. The apartment was a little bigger than it appeared from the outside. Gazing briefly towards the living room in noted the long cream colored leather sofa that dominated the far side of the room. With the large pink afghan lying neatly across the back, it appeared warm and inviting. With a last glance towards the living room he noticed the entertainment center with its moderate sized television; and what appeared to be a huge movie/dvd collection.

Peyton moved towards the kitchen counter, looking for the two mugs that she had set out the night before. The smell of fresh coffee filled the room. 'Thank-goodness,' she thought rather absently as she poured herself a cup. Glancing over her shoulder, she raised the empty mug asking "Coffee?"

"Yes please" nodding silently he smiled at the thought of fresh hot cup of coffee. Picking up both mugs, she turned to the table; noticing for the first time the large take out bag sitting in front of him on the table. Sitting his mug on the table, she pointed to the cream and sugar near the center of the table. Adding cream and sugar to her coffee, she gestured towards the bag, "what's that?" she asked curiously.

Quickly unpacking the bag, Stephen smiled obviously pleased with himself "This lass, is breakfast. Ah wasn't sure what yeh might like, so Ah picked up a lil' bit a' everythin.'" He explained as he covered the same table with covered take out dishes full of scrambled eggs, waffles, sausage, and fresh fruit.

Peyton smiled shyly "Stephen you really didn't have to do all this. If I remember correctly I promised you a home cooked breakfast."

"Yeh did lass…yeh did, but Ah couldn't let yeh go to all that trouble after keeping yeh up so late."

Reaching into the cupboard, Peyton took out some plates and silverware. "This is all very sweet of you Stephen, but you really didn't need all of this food." Turning back to the table, she felt her towel slipping from around her head. "Excuse me just a minute," she mumbled sitting the dishes on the counter, she raced from the room. Watching her go, Stephen couldn't stop the grin that crept across his face. He was enjoying this slightly rattled – softer more vulnerable Peyton.

Tossing the towel over the edge of the tub, Peyton grabbed her brush from the sink; quickly she pulled her hair back into a slightly messy but completely easy pony tail. As she neared the kitchen she stopped in the doorway and watched; Stephen sitting at her small kitchen table filling the small room with his presence. His mere presence made the room seem smaller. She didn't know his exact height, but he was definitely over six feet. Admiring his gorgeous red hair she thought 'I wish I could bottle that color – I know women who would pay a fortune for it.' She continued to silently watch him for another minute or two. His well fitted black cotton t-shirt, fit snug across his broad wide shoulders. He wore simply light wash jeans, well-worn and frayed softly, along the seams and pockets; paired with a pair of plain white Nikes. Before quietly re-entering the kitchen she wondered 'Why' with an air of feminine annoyance 'does he have to be so damned good looking.'

She noticed that he had set the table, placing all of the food within easy reach. He was politely waiting for her to return before eating. She smiled "Sorry about that," she murmured heading towards the refrigerator. Grabbing a small jar of raspberry jam, she hastily sat at the table across from him. As they both tucked into their respective breakfast, Peyton found herself watching him every-time she thought he wasn't looking. After several minutes he asked with an amused chuckle, "what is it luv, do Ah have food on ma' face?"

Nearly mortified for being caught staring, Peyton shook her head "no…No…" she mumbled before returning to her own breakfast. Returning his attention to his plate, Stephen was glad that he wasn't the only one whose curiosity was piqued. He too found himself looking whenever he thought she wasn't paying attention. He found himself noticing even the smallest things. He noticed the way she obviously preferred to dip her waffle in raspberry jam rather than use butter and syrup. He noted the way she nibbled at fresh cantaloupe, apparently enjoying each small delicious bite. He liked that one long dark strand of hair escaped the confines of her ponytail. Watching her repeatedly tuck that one strand behind her ear was easily captivating his imagination.

Neither spoke much as they ate, both choosing instead to concentrate on the hot food before them. As they finished eating, Peyton began bustling around the kitchen. As she set about clearing the table, Stephen spoke "allow me ta help lass." Quickly quietly they set about clearing the table, putting away the left-overs, and loading the dishwasher. She poured them each another cup of coffee and led them into the living room. They each took a sit on the long sofa facing one another. Peyton fought to control the shiver than ran down her spine every time he looked at her with those big clear blue eyes. 'Why now' she wondered 'I'm finally ok with life – why did you walk into my life now?' The silence was overwhelming and fast becoming a little unbearable for her; when she finally spoke. With a teasing lilt and a smile to match "You do know Mr. Farrelly, that you never answered my question last night?"

"What question might that be lass?"

She shook her head "I think you know Stephen…I think you know."

Stephen could see the wheels turning in her pretty little head. He knew instantly that she was choosing her next words very carefully. 'Probably tryin' to decide if she really wants the answers or not,' he thought almost giddily to himself. As he watched he noticed that one long strand once more caressing her right cheek. Scooting a little closer, he reached out, allowing the silky strand to pass between long pale fingers before tucking it back behind her right ear. He didn't want to push, but the temptation to touch her soft skin was too much. Slowly he brushed his fingers down her cheek before withdrawing his hand altogether.

Growing uncomfortable Peyton scooted a little further back from him. Noticing instantly Stephen quickly apologized "Ah'm sorry luv, I didn't mean to offend."

Uncomfortable with the sudden turn of conversation, Peyton changed the subject "so tell me why wrestling?"

Stephen smiled, he knew a less than subtle change of subject when he saw one. A part of him wanted to pursue their previous course, but he didn't want to push so he thought quickly how best to answer her latest question. "Ah wasn't always a wrestler. Ah've worked nightclubs as security….worked in computers for a while." As she listened, she couldn't contain the slight giggle that escaped or the matching twinkle in her eyes. "What luv?" questioned Stephen with a little twinkle in his own eye?

"You" she smiled "I mean look at you…I just can't picture you running around in a suit and tie all day fixing computers."

Puffing up proud as a peacock, Stephen chuckled I'll have you know lass that Ah' look might fine in a 'suit and tie' as yeh put it."

Reaching along the back of the sofa, Peyton unconsciously placed her hand atop his. As if soothing a small child she murmured "I'm sure you do dear…I'm sure you do." Although it came across a little more teasing or sarcastically than she intended – deep down she had no doubt that he would cut a mighty fine figure in a suit and tie.

"As it happened lass, I couldn't see myself spending the rest of ma life that way either. Ah' had always been into sports, later in life Ah started watching wrestlin' – after that Ah' was hooked. Within a couple of years Ah had the chance to meet with Bret Hart who recommended someone that Ah could train with. And, well, the rest they say is history."

Stephen noted the distant look that clouded her eyes at the mention of Bret Hart. He hadn't pegged her as fan-girl ring rat type although the look in her eyes and the faint color in her cheeks did give him pause. Shaking her head, she re-joined the conversation "Sorry about that…."

He didn't want to ask – really wasn't his business, but he just couldn't help himself. "Yeh looked a million miles away for a minute their luv."

Peyton blushed instantly a deep scarlet painting her cheeks. Misunderstanding the color in her cheeks, Stephen moved his hand from the back of the sofa. Before either of them gave much thought to their words they both began to speak at the same time.

"Yeh have a crush on the Hit…What?" he questioned.

"My grand-dad was huge Hart found…What?" she questioned.

You laughed brief and low. "You actually thought I had a crush on the hit-man."

He laughed blushing a little himself now "Yeh grand-dad was a fan of the Hart Foundation?"

They talked for a few minutes more, Peyton expertly avoiding most all questions about her childhood; or what really drove her into teaching. Glancing over her left shoulder, Peyton looked at the small clock in the corner. Realizing it was nearing seven a.m., she was shocked that they had been talking for nearly forty-five minutes. Stephen watched her glancing at the clock as he silently cursed father time for drawing their time together to a close so soon. Turning once more to face him, she saw many of the same thoughts and emotions reflected in his eyes. She also noted thoughts and emotions that she could not quite put her finger on; emotions that she was sure she wasn't ready to identify yet – if ever. "I've enjoyed this Stephen – thank you again for breakfast, but I'm afraid I really need to get moving if I'm going to make it over to the school on time."

No…No… thank you luv for sharing your morning with me." Stephen did not want this little…what was this he struggled; was this a date, just friends, or just simply wrestler / fan. Stephen reckoned he didn't rightly know, and funny thing was he didn't rightly care either. He was simply enjoying spending the early morning with a beautiful woman. "Do yeh mind if Ah hang aroun' a few minutes. Maybe I could walk yeh to yeh're car?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to protest, but with such childlike happiness radiating across his face – how could she refuse. "That would be nice," she replied "I should only be couple of minutes. Please help yourself to more coffee. I'll be right back." Turning she headed down the small hall towards her bedroom to retrieve the black boots she had tossed to the bed earlier. Moving into the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head she struggled with the image looking back at her. Grabbing her small make up bag from the shelf, she quickly applied a little dark mascara. Rummaging through the bag she found her favorite clear lip gloss. Tossing the bag back onto the shelf; she reached for her favorite perfume. It wasn't the most expensive scent on the market, heck she had bought this bottle at Wal-Mart, but there was something about the lavender and vanilla scent that she simply adored.

As Peyton prepared for work, Stephen took the opportunity to wander around the small living room. He noted the framed photographs lining both the top of the small entertainment center and the matching medium sized book-case. There were a couple of candid photos of kids he assumed where her students. There were two of her and a shorter woman both clowning for the camera. All the others appeared to be photos of her family. Most of her photos were candid shots; the one lone studio shot drew his attention. Peyton stood between two slightly older gentlemen, the three of the surrounding a much older white haired man and a woman he presumed was his wife. The family resemblance between Peyton and the two men was uncanny. There was no doubt the three were closely related – older brothers he guessed. The older couple didn't look like parents to him, but maybe grandparents. Moving away from the entertainment center, he glanced at the photos lining the bookcase. Glancing through the small collection of frames, he saw none that appeared to be of her parents – 'How strange,' he thought. He was impressed by the size of her small book collection. Scanning the titles, he noted several teaching manuals, some poetry, and several of Maya Angelou's works. Moving through the shelf he smirked not completely surprised when he found the Twilight series and the Harry Potter series. However he was surprised when he found the Fifty Shades of Grey series. A few minutes passes as Stephen continued to take in his surroundings; his attention always returning to the simply studio photo of her and her family.

As Peyton left the bedroom, she silently entered the living room coming to stand just behind and to Stephen's right. A little startled, he was surprised that he didn't hear her enter the room. She immediately noticed his interest in her favorite family photo. Her face glowing with love for family she smiled, "those are my two older brothers Alex and Matthew, along with my grandparents Caroline and Daniel Ross."

Stephen nodded "You're Da's parents," he stated with understanding.

"No" corrected Peyton a little more forcefully than was absolutely necessary "my mother's parents," she replied. Reaching around him she picked up two identical wide silver bracelets, cuffing one to each wrist. Watching her brisk actions, he noted, that while beautiful – the cuff bracelets did an excellent job of hiding her scars from the world. Peyton could see the questions swirling his beautiful clear blue eyes, but she wasn't prepared to give voice to any answer, choosing instead "You ready to walk a lady to her car?"

Author's Note: Special thank you to everyone who is reading this little tale….Your comments make me smile in the best way.