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A Promise Kept

Page 8

by Anissa Garcia


  “Evan, hi! I’m talking to Ben and Ryan. They’re so nice.”

  “Guys, I’m stealing my date for the night. If you’ll excuse us.” He swept her through the crowd, and felt her push away unsteadily.

  “Date? So tonight’s a date?”

  “No. I told you it’s a date when I kiss you, babe.”

  “Then let’s kiss twice and get it over with.”

  He caught her as she swayed. “Whoa, you drunk already, Gracie Lynn?”

  “I’m not drunk. Just a little buzzed. I thought there would be food here so I didn’t eat.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, I was talking to them, Evan. Don’t try to stake your claim on me tonight if this isn’t a date. I’m here to let loose and have fun.”

  “You don’t party often, do you?” He kept his arm around her, craving to have her near.

  “Why?” She looked up at him and teetered on her shoes, her body leaning into his.

  “Because you should always make sure the drink comes directly from the bartender. What if the guy buying you the drink put something in it? Party safely, Grace.”

  She chuckled, pressing her face into his chest, “Okay, Dad.” Oh, Jesus, she was definitely on the way to getting sauced. Her giggles kept coming and her speech was slightly incoherent. “Ouch, that vest is hard.” She rubbed her forehead and looked him over. “You look hot in that SWAT getup, by the way. What do you guys do? You think to yourselves, ‘What costume could I wear to make myself look even hotter than I already am? Oh, I know! Let me dress like a SWAT guy and BOOM - sexy.’ It’s not really fair, you know that?”

  He smiled at her confession. “You girls do the same exact thing, Miss Clark. Your little skirt and those shoes almost gave me a…”

  “Raging hard-on?” She laughed and stumbled in his arms, her face achingly close.

  “I was going to say heart attack.” She wasn’t wrong though. He could feel her body pressing against him, and she was so lush and warm. She also smelled like whatever flowery perfume she spritzed on that delicate, white skin and looked like a—

  “What the fuck are you wearing, Gracie?” He eyed her olive green shirt and stepped back. He pushed her leather jacket aside and pointed to the symbol near her shoulder. “Are you kidding me?”

  Her thick, black eyelashes fluttered at him innocently as her lips smirked. “What?”

  “You dressed as Captain Kirk?”

  “Live well, and prosper, fool!” She threw the Vulcan sign up and snorted a laugh.

  “You dressed as the wrong Captain, pumpkin.”

  “I can’t help it. That Chris Pine guy is hot. Do you know him? Can you introduce me?”

  Evan growled, hating the idea of her crushing on someone, anyone, else. “You did this on purpose, Grace Lynn Clark. Just to piss me off.” She continued to laugh, his frown suddenly breaking into a wide grin from the sound of it.

  “Okay, okay, I might’ve dressed this way to rile you up. It totally worked, didn’t it?” Her chocolate eyes looked at him brightly as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her legs wobbled and her body kept pressing in all the right areas. It was making his brain malfunction.

  “In more ways than one, Gracie.” He thought about that hard-on she mentioned earlier. Her skirt was torturing him as his mind pictured the treasures that lay under it. He contemplated whether she went commando or wore bikini bottoms, perhaps a thong. His eyes felt hungry as he stared at her lips.

  “That’s Captain Kirk to you, Captain Abrams.” She gave him a mock salute.

  “Captain Kirk doesn’t wear a skirt, baby cakes, and he’s not my type.”

  “Neither am I, Evan.” She hiccupped as her friends made their way over.

  “Grace, there you are!” Jaime called as Dean and Marla followed.

  “Where the hell did you go?” Marla asked, her hands resting on her hips. Evan chuckled knowing the pose wasn’t on purpose, but all she needed was to twirl and the look would be complete. He contemplated asking about her invisible jet.

  Grace instantly held herself up and roamed her hands over the edge of her skirt to make sure nothing was on display. “I was talking to those hotties, Ben Taylor and Ryan Dane, but SWAT guy here interrupted us.”

  “He totally cock-blocked her,” Zach proclaimed, walking up with drinks in his hands. He passed one to Evan, but his friend declined, more interested in keeping his focus on Grace. They all said their hellos and were introduced.

  “I wanna meet Ben and Ryan!” Jaime yelled as Dean gave her a glare.

  “Only if I can meet Kara Jones,” Dean replied.

  Jaime rolled her eyes then looked to Evan. “Think you can get the whole cast to Jake’s party? We’d love you forever.”

  Evan laughed. “Don’t know about that, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “See? I just like this guy, Grace. He’s so cool!” Jaime tugged Grace to move closer to Evan. He knew Jaime’s maneuvers, and wasn’t objecting to her plot to hook them up. “So, when is Evan’s and Grace’s first date happening? Evan, you know, Grace hasn’t been on a date in—”

  “Subject change!” Grace held her hands in the air, interrupting Jaime’s revelation that Evan was more than curious to hear. “Zach, I’ll take that extra drink, as long as it’s not your iced tea.”

  “Done, babe. Here you go.” Zach handed her the glass and winked. Evan shot him an odious glare discerning Grace didn’t need more alcohol.

  “Gracie, watch your intake,” Evan warned.

  “Oh, that’s right, I forgot.” She shimmied to Zach and held the glass up to him. “Take a sip first, Zach.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Dad over here told me to get it straight from the bartender in case it was laced with something from the guy who bought me the drink. So, my question for you Zach is—are you trying to poison Evan?”

  The group laughed as Marla looked over to Josh. “He has tried before,” Josh joked.

  “With what? Carbs?” Marla smirked as Josh eyed her up and down. “Did your super-strict trainer over here not allow for drinking tonight, Evan?”

  “He’s not that bad. There’s an exception for Halloween.”

  Evan saw Josh’s eyes flash with irritation. “I’m not that much of a dick, Supergirl,” Josh growled toward her.

  “I’m Wonder Woman, Doc. I see your costume took no effort whatsoever.” She glanced to his plain white lab coat and stethoscope, then to the bottle in his hand. “Water? No mean green juice tonight? Protein shake?”

  “He had that earlier along with his chicken and broccoli,” Zach teased as Josh kept his eyes on the bold woman in front of him.

  Grace turned her head to his friend, eyeing him up and down. “What exactly is your costume, Zach?”

  “One that wouldn’t piss Evan off, Grace,” Zach answered, knowing her tactic.

  “You’re Justin Timberlake, right?” Dean guessed, pointing to his outfit. “The suit-and-tie bit.”

  Zach straightened his gray tie against his crisp white shirt. “No, I was going for Christian Grey.”

  The women groaned, and Marla pointed out. “Seriously? You did it all wrong, Zach!”

  “I thought this suit was slick.” He ran his hand through his wavy dark hair. “No?”

  Grace stood before Zach and handed her drink to Jaime. She reached up and began to adjust his tie. It took all of Evan’s will to not wish he were Zach at that moment being undressed by her small hands. More than that, the thought of Grace reading the erotic novel made his skin prickle with thoughts of what they could do together. “First, let the tie hang a bit like that. Second, you should’ve brought a riding crop, handcuffs, and a blindfold as props. And third…”

  Her hands began to muss up Zach’s hair. “You’ve got awesome hair, you just need it a little more tussled. Unfortunately for you, he had copper-colored hair, and yours is dark.” She bit her bottom lip as she worked on him, undoing his top shirt button. She stepped back. “Okay, so you look more like Jim Halpert from The Office, but a gi
rl might just be drunk enough to fall for it.”

  Everyone laughed, including Evan. She swayed a bit and Evan stepped beside her, holding her steady against his body.

  “You shouldn’t have brought that bottle of whiskey on the shuttle,” Jaime scolded. “You’re getting so plastered, Grace.”

  “I’m not drunk, guys. Besides, Marla told me to bring it.”

  Marla dismissed her with a shake of her hand. “You’re such a tattle tit.”

  She took her drink back in her hands from Jaime and swigged the rest of it. “I need another one. I’m celebrating.”

  Josh asked, “What are we celebrating?”

  “Grace finished Waiting on Lust,” Marla answered.

  “Why would she wait on lust? You have to act on that, Grace,” Zach tried to joke.

  “Her book, moron,” Evan corrected him. “Congrats, Grace!” Everyone in the group cheered.

  “I think that calls for dancing!” Grace yelled as they went toward the small stage set up with a local band playing. She dragged Evan behind her as they all went toward the packed dancefloor.

  She stumbled and he reached out, his hands clasping her hips as she turned. “Seriously, SWAT man, I’m okay.”

  He smiled, letting his arms wrap around her. He pulled her against him and let his lips touch her ear. “You can’t walk for shit in those boots, Gracie Lynn.”

  The music was so loud it was difficult to hear and all he wanted was to be in an intimate spot with her, kissing her, hearing her whimper in pleasure. He could feel the silk of her hair brush against his cheek as he leaned down. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she let their bodies grind to the music.

  He could feel every inch of her pressed against him, and it was heaven and hell combined. His hands roamed her body, one moving to the small dip of her back as he tugged her closer to him. Their legs entwined as the beat picked up and the lights twirled. He was getting lost to her until she almost fell. His hands held her up.

  “I’m dizzy!” she yelled near his ear.

  He nodded and told Grace to wait as he strode to Marla and informed her he was taking Grace back home. Marla looked to her friend and nodded, giving a thumbs up as she danced with Ryan.

  “Come on, Gracie. We’re heading home.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re drunk.”

  “So?”

  They careened through the crowd and made their way to the shuttle as he texted Zach and Josh. “Slow down, daddy long legs, I said I’m dizzy.”

  “Sorry, babe. How much did you have to drink anyway?” he asked as he held her against him.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Twenty.”

  “Twenty drinks?”

  “Ounces. Possibly. Is that a lot?” She joked as he led her toward the shuttle. “Honestly, I don’t really know what I’m saying.”

  He helped her sit and grabbed a bottle of water that they had purposefully stocked. “Here, drink this.”

  “You’re so prepared, agent.” She grinned as she attempted to twist the cap off. “I can’t do it.” She threw the bottle at him and laughed as he easily opened the top for her. “Thanks. You’re so strong. And manly.” He watched her with his eyes alight as she gulped the water and then continued. “Do you purposefully wear those tight shirts? Like so you can show off those hunky muscles?”

  He froze as she ran her hand over his bicep. He loved feeling her touch and couldn’t imagine it ever stopping. “I don’t think about what I wear most of the time. I have clothes that get sent to me.”

  “Pshhhh…lucky bastard. You have money to shop but get everything free.” Her wandering eyes moved from his eyes to his mouth. She gently let her fingertip trail over his bottom lip. “And you’re really handsome, but you must be told that all the time. All those women chasing you.”

  His smile grew as he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “It’s nicer when it’s said by someone you care about.”

  She drew closer to him, her breathing amplified as she stared at his lips. “You always know what to say, Mr. Matthews. So suave, so perfect.”

  He had no words, because she was on him in a second when she grasped the back of his neck and pulled him close. Nothing existed around him except her. Not the music that filled the busy streets, nor the rattling of the engine that drove them home. God, if he were drunk this whole situation would be fair. They’d both be inebriated and chalk it up to a crazy night. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was the girl who had invaded his every single waking thought for the past month.

  Her mouth roamed his, and for a moment, he got caught up; her soft lips tasting of whiskey and honey. The sweetness invading him was something he couldn’t begin to compare. His body was beyond aching for this woman as her hands traveled over the nape of his neck, but he knew this wasn’t the way he wanted it to be. This meant more to him than it should. Finally, he found his raspy voice as she parted for just a second to catch her breath. “Gracie, not this way, honey.”

  “Yes, this way.” She whimpered against his lips and he drew back. It felt beyond torturous and unnatural to pull away from her. He let his hands cup her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. Her skin was like rose petals, softer and even more beautiful than he had imagined. He caught her pouting as she tried to jerk away.

  “Grace, no. Look at me.”

  “I’m not your type, Evan.” She twisted her body to look out the window and rested her forehead on it.

  It had been twice that night that he heard it from her mouth, and it upset him that she thought so. “Yes, you are, Grace. You’re precisely my type. That’s why I don’t want to continue kissing you when you’re not fully coherent.”

  Stillness pervaded the space as he exhaled. “You have your stuff here?” He rose and looked around to the seats nearby and spotted a brown leather bag. He knew it had to be hers, it was just her style. He picked it up and moved back, sitting down beside her again. “Grace, is this your purse?”

  He waited for her answer. Great, she was playing the silent game with him. “Grace.” He shook her shoulder, and realized she was fast asleep. Sitting back, he studied her and laughed under his breath as he then dug inside the purse for her keys. This woman was just too much for his heart to handle.

  Grace attempted to pry her eyes open, but they instantly shut again, feeling heavy and dry. Her throat was on fire, and her nose was stuffy. She gave a slight cough, but groaned as her throbbing head informed her how that was a mistake.

  “Shit,” she creaked and shifted her sore body. The muscles felt tight as she twisted and turned, trying to tuck the pillow behind her neck. Sleeping forever seemed like the perfect solution for her hangover from hell.

  “Morning, cupcake.”

  The deep voice startled Grace and she sat up way too quickly. “Ouch, fucking hell, shit-fuck.” Clasping her head, she stared at the man who sat in the corner of her room on her recently reupholstered lounge chair. His feet rested on the footstool she matched to it. He rested with a book in his hands and looked positively delicious. Did he look that great last night too? Grace barely recalled.

  She tugged on the ponytail holder that had kept her hair in place and yanked it out along with stray strands of hair. Her hands worked through her aching scalp as all of it tumbled down. She groaned and fell back. “What are you doing here, Matthews?”

  “Making sure you wouldn’t vomit in your sleep, Captain Kirk.”

  “Shit.” She grimaced in humiliation. “God, it feels like Thor is hitting my head with his fucking hammer.” She propped herself up in a sitting position against her headboard. She’d never fall back asleep now. “Did you see me throw up?”

  “You didn’t throw up, Grace.” Evan moved beside her and pointed to the nightstand. Grace grabbed the water and gulped. “But you sure kept me entertained.”

  “What? Why?” Her mind swirled, trying to figure out what happened. “Did we? We didn’t…”

  “We’re still clothed, doll.”
>
  Grace shut her eyes in relief. “Thank God!”

  “Don’t sound too relieved.”

  “Well, that’s the last thing I’d want to happen.”

  “You do wonders for my ego, you know that?” He kept his eyes on her, a smile playing over his lips like he had a secret. “Never seen your hair down before, Grace.”

  She closed her eyes, not wanting to imagine if she looked as horrible as she felt. “I don’t give a flying fuck if I look like shit right now, Evan, so go ahead and make fun all you want.”

  His husky laugh still did things to her body even though she wasn’t up for any type of silly banter. “You’ve got a dirty mouth on you, Gracie. Who knew?”

  “Only when I feel like dying. What happened? Where is everyone? Where’s my phone?” She glanced around and noticed her boots sitting neatly near her dresser. He had taken them off of her? Took care of her. A wave of degradation coursed through her body. She never lost control, especially around a man, and not one like him. She prayed she hadn’t said anything stupid, but judging from the look on Evan’s face, something must have happened.

  “It’s here.” He handed it to her from the nightstand and Grace blushed at the oversight. She needed coffee to get her brain working properly. “Don’t worry, I’ve kept up with Marla and Jaime.”

  “How?”

  “They came back to the house after I put you to bed. They left when I promised I’d watch over you.”

  “Bed?” Grace tried to reconnect the dots slowly. “I passed out?”

  “On the bus.” They remained quiet as she tried to think back. For some reason she had flashes of Evan’s lips—of a kiss—but she hadn’t wanted to assume that they actually shared something that passionate. It had to have been a dream. “What do you remember, Grace?”

  She shook her head as she tried to grasp at memories. “I remember talking to Ben and Ryan. I think Ben was supposed to call me for something.”

  “Yeah, let’s not worry about him,” Evan said, trying to change the subject. “What else?”

  “Oh, you were pissed off because of my costume. And was Zach dressed as Christian Grey?”

 

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