A Promise Kept

by Anissa Garcia

  They both laughed, but Grace felt a surge of nausea hit. “I might be sick.” She fumbled from the covers and ran toward her master bathroom, barely making it to the toilet.

  Evan rushed over, standing beside her, and pulled her hair back as she heaved out the contents of her stomach. God, she was puking in front of Evan Matthews. “Sorry, shit.”

  “It’s okay, you’ll probably feel better now.” He rubbed her back then handed her a wet wipe from the case on top of the toilet. He waited, holding her hair as she wiped her mouth. A few minutes passed before he spoke softly. “Can you stand?”

  She nodded as he pulled her up with firm hands. “I’ll get you some fresh clothes and you can take a bath. Is it alright for me to go through your dresser, Grace?”

  Grace sat on the edge of her tub and nodded in exhaustion. She heard him rummaging through her dresser, but at this point she didn’t care. Her body felt feverish and she wanted to just feel normal again. He walked in and set a pile of things near the sink. He started the water in her claw foot tub and checked the temperature. “Shout out if you need something.”

  She nodded again, feeling enough energy to muster a small grin. “Thanks, Evan.”

  He closed the door behind him and Grace stared at the running water and bubbles. He added bubbles. Butterflies were instantly being blamed on her current stomach issues. Grace approached her sink, reaching for her toothbrush. Glancing up, she gasped in fright. Smudges of mascara painted her lids black, making her look like a raccoon. Her hair was a teased and ratted mess, and her pallid complexion made for one hell of a scary post-Halloween look. She brushed her teeth and tried to construct all that happened, and for some reason the taste of Evan’s lips kept coming to mind.

  Grace took her time in the bath, dunking her head in the hot, sudsy water and letting her muscles unwind. A light knock took her out of her secret daydream. The one of a delicious kiss she couldn’t stop envisioning with the very man who opened her bathroom door.

  “Hey.” Evan stood with a cup in his hand. “Can I come in?”

  Grace gave a hesitated nod, hoping there were enough bubbles to cover her body. He lowered himself to the edge of the tub. His eyes were a beautiful cobalt, and she focused on those instead of that mouth she kept lusting over. He still donned the tight green shirt and camo pants from his costume last night, and scruff covered his perfect jaw.

  “I brought you some ginger tea.”

  Reaching up, she brushed her wet hand against his and felt that familiar jolt in her stomach whenever their skin touched. Despite how awful she felt, those sensations of craving him hadn’t subsided. “Where did you get ginger tea?”

  “I asked Zach to pick some up.”

  “Oh, God, he didn’t make it, did he?”

  Evan laughed and shook his head. “I hope not.”

  “Making him work for his money though?”

  “I’m supposed to pay him? Oops.”

  She chuckled, but felt the throbbing in her temples and winced.

  “Yeah, you had quite a bit to drink last night, little one.”

  “Never again.” Upon opening her eyes, she caught him grazing her legs that peaked out of the water. Clasping her thighs together was the immediate response, along with making sure suds covered the proper places. She slowly moved more of her body back under the water and tried to push away the instant heat beginning to creep between her lady bits.

  He moved his eyes away and Grace saw him swallow as he shifted his body. “I’m going to head home, but I want to take a look at your car and work on it today.”

  “You don’t have to, Evan.” The tea instantly made her stomach settle, and she took another sip in appreciation.

  He leaned over and brushed his lips on her forehead. “Rest up, Grace. Eat something. Toast and eggs. That’ll help.”

  Relief came flooding over her as he shut the door behind him. Grace could exhale the oxygen she held in her lungs. A kiss on the forehead? What was she, twelve? That was it. Whatever attraction Grace assumed Evan held toward her, it all fled out the window like a gust of winter wind. How could he possibly be attracted to a woman who not only got completely trashed, but also barfed in his presence?

  Wasn’t that what she wanted though? She kept nudging him over to friend territory. He had finally caught on and took it. Of course, she busted him staring at her legs, but he was a typical man. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he’d want sex. But that was something Grace was unwilling to give him. She should’ve admitted that from the start. Been upfront with him like with all the others.

  The concern was that she enjoyed his company more than she had anticipated, and that selfish part of her wanted him to stick around. If she confessed to him what she always told other men, he would do exactly what they always did. Drop her like yesterday’s newspaper and never look back. No matter how much she prepared for that to happen with Evan, the action of it would hurt much more than the idea.

  Grace felt renewed after her bath and eating some food. She walked over to the window and peeked between the open blinds to see Evan hunched over the engine of her car. He looked gorgeous, his hair gleaming in the late afternoon sun that broke through the gloomy sky. Muscles moved tautly through his plain white shirt, and his jeans sat low on his hips. Big hands moved around the engine with expertise as he shifted tools around with precision.

  Grace grabbed a bottle of water and walked to him, watching as he poured in windshield wiper fluid. Even though the temperature had dropped a little, beads of sweat had formed on his temples, and she let herself gaze at him with awe. He really was quite handsome. Part of her wished she had the guts to tell him that.

  “Enjoying the view?” He looked up at her with a slight smirk.

  She held out the water as he stood straight, wiping his hands on a small towel. “It’s alright, I guess.”

  “Not what you said last night.” He winked as her eyes popped open and he grabbed the bottle.

  “What did I say last night?”

  He ignored her question. Evan began to gulp down the water quickly, and Grace stared fixedly as his throat bobbed. She could see dampness on the corded muscles of his neck, and she suddenly wanted to lick him. She trailed her eyes down his shirt, abs showing slightly through the material.

  “I fixed some issues with the air conditioning. Hopefully the sealant will keep the holes in the hose closed for a while. I replaced the spark plugs and PCV valve. Put some new windshield wipers and some fluid in there and changed your oil.”

  “Is that all? I mean, I was expecting a new paint job too.”

  Evan gave a boisterous laugh as he lowered the hood. “That’s tomorrow, doll.” He handed the keys to her and leaned against the car. His arms bulged from the sleeves of his shirt and she couldn’t help staring at him. “Glad you’re feeling better, Gracie.”

  She looked away and tried to hide her smile. “What did I say last night, Evan?”

  “You complimented my big guns.” He raised both arms up and flexed making her burst out with laughter. “You did. Totally serious.”

  Her small hands squeezed his biceps. “Hmm. I must’ve been pretty wasted if I thought these were worth praising.”

  “You’re so full of shit right now, Grace.” He grabbed her wrists and tugged her forward letting his hands wrap around her waist as she braced her palms on his broad chest. Her eyes stayed down, looking at the fabric that separated them from the sexual tension that overwhelmed her senses. She could feel his breathing pick up, her hair ruffling from the gentle breeze. Every receptor was heightened as her skin prickled with awareness.

  When her gaze met his, she felt something familiar. “Evan?”

  “Yeah?” His lips were getting dangerously close.

  “Did this happen last night?”

  A gentle smile played on his mouth as he pulled her closer. He bent forward and Grace shivered in anticipation. Should she let this happen? Who was she kidding? There was no way she could stop. So much for the friend
zone. Closing her eyes she awaited his kiss.

  Instead, his lips touched her ear as he whispered, “I’ll never tell.”

  Grace pushed herself off of him, rolling her eyes and headed toward her door. “Goodbye, Mr. Matthews. Thanks for fixing my car.”

  “You’re welcome, sweets. I’ll see you later.”

  She turned and gave him a final salute. Keep that promise, Grace.

  The cold and rainy November day proved to be daunting for the cast and crew of The Ending Series. The weather fit the scene that was being filmed—the cloudy exterior, the consistent rainfall, and the muddy terrain—but it made for a grueling shoot. Evan’s fight scenes were extensive and brutal.

  He was aching and tired, and was constantly trying to hide the semi hard-on he had whenever he thought about Grace. She was driving him senseless. He even felt a consuming need to have her all for himself. Ben and Ryan had asked if he was dating her, and Evan had no idea what to say. What he did know was he didn’t want her to date anyone else. But he also knew she was wanting to take it slow, and he was willing to be patient. Flat out, he wanted her, badly. And the more he got to know her, the more he wanted.

  Evan stripped from his constricting costume and took the time to hang it up in his trailer. He knew it wasn’t necessary, but his mother always taught him to clean up after himself even if he had others to do it for him. He walked over to the shower and washed off the day’s work.

  He grabbed his sides and schedule left for him, ready to head home and relax. The gloomy weather did nothing to appease his grumpy mood and when his phone rang he groaned and debated whether to answer.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Evan. Got a moment, buddy?”

  “Sure.” His voice didn’t sound as enthusiastic as his agent’s. Mike had worked with Evan since he’d first arrived in Hollywood over fifteen years ago. He’d helped him rise through the ranks. Mike’s decisions weren’t always the best, but Evan trusted him.

  “I got this great script I’m sending. Tell Zach to print it out for you. It’s going to be big.”

  Evan ran his hand through his wet hair as he put his Bluetooth on and walked toward his car. “For directing or acting?”

  “Why do you even bother asking?”

  Evan heaved a sigh as he turned on the ignition and made his way out of the studios where filming took place. “Mike, come on, man. I’m looking for a directing gig.”

  “You have to strike while you’re hot, Evan. This is a John Whitford film. It could mean an Oscar win for you.”

  “You said that about Meet Me in Moonlight.”

  “And you were nominated. You won a Golden Globe.” Evan stayed quiet as his agent continued. “Come on, Evan. It’s a solid script. They’re willing to pay you fourteen mil.”

  “You know I don’t care about the money.” He had enough money to last him over three lifetimes.

  “You will when you’re mentioned on Forbes List of one of the highest paid actors in the world.” Evan scoffed as Mike was insistent. “Evan, the Ending Series will be over. Don’t you want to show your diversity in the roles you pick?”

  “I thought I did already. I want to direct, Mike. And if I do take on a role I want something more independent.”

  Evan’s mind went over what it would mean to win an Academy Award. Most actors dreamed of winning one. It was never something he aspired to like some actors he had met. Sure, an award would be nice, but with that gold statue came added pressures, expectations, and loss of privacy. The bigger he got, the smaller his world became.

  “Evan, I got you Captain Drew Abrams, and you’re glad you took it.”

  He thought that over and knew it was true. Without the push from his agent and the persistence of the studio heads wanting Evan, he’d still be fighting for the roles he wanted instead of having the luxury of choosing. “Where’s this thing filming?”

  “Atlanta.”

  Evan moaned. He hated the humidity and heat, but put up with it when having to be on location. “When’s principle begin?”

  “Principle photography starts in May.”

  He finished filming in Austin around March or April. That would be a quick transition, but maybe it would be for the best. Evan still hadn’t found the script he wanted to direct, and having a project lined up meant he would have something on his plate instead of nothing. “Send the script. I’ll read it and call you to set up a meeting with John if I like it.”

  “Great. I know you’ll love it.”

  Evan threw his headset off and continued his commute in the Austin traffic—one of the small downsides to staying in the quirky city that was beginning to grow on him.

  When Evan pulled up to his driveway, he saw Grace’s garage open. He debated being around her at that moment. A shit day made for a shit attitude, and he didn’t want her to see his cranky side. Besides, pictures played back in his head of the way she looked in that damn bathtub, and if any man had seen her the way he had, he’d win an award for restraining himself from taking that sweet mouth. Instead he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, knowing full well that wasn’t the right time to make his move.

  He walked over and peered inside, listening to her as she belted along to Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, a smile sneaking on his face as he studied her hips swaying to the beat. Her hair was bunched at the nape of her neck and a red bandana was tied around the top of her head. She wore those old, paint-stained overalls that were two sizes too big with a long sleeved Henley underneath. Worn-in boots and yellow working gloves completed her look as she swung to the music and sanded the top of an old desk sitting in the middle of her garage.

  The day from hell was instantly forgotten. All Evan could think about was how perfect the words to “Tupelo Honey” fit Grace as it started to play, and how he wanted to hold her in his arms and dance with her. Kissing that angel was something Evan had to make happen. And soon.

  Grace turned and yelped as they caught each other’s eye. “Evan, you can’t creep up on me like that. How long have you been there?”

  He smiled and approached. “Not long enough. You started working on the desk without me, Gracie Lynn. I’m hurt.”

  She put the sandpaper down and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Well, we haven’t done much in the way of cashing in on that bet, so I figured we’d drop it.”

  “Hah, nice try, beautiful.” He stood beside her and looked at the desk. “Okay, tell me where to start.”

  Grace began digging through a box sitting on some wire shelving. She tossed a pair of gloves toward him and then brought him an apron. He scrunched his nose. “You want me to wear that?”

  “Unless you don’t care about your clothes.”

  He removed his leather jacket and placed his keys and phone aside along with the apron. “I can always work naked for you, Grace.”

  “Although I would just love to see you sand my desk completely in the nude, the neighbors may not approve.”

  He chuckled at her sarcasm and put the gloves on. He then grabbed the sandpaper and put it over the completed desktop. She stopped him. “Whoa. Slow down, Hollywood. You’ll work on the drawers. Most of it I already did with the power sander, but we’re just catching the intricate areas I might’ve missed.” She pulled a drawer toward him and motioned for him to sit. She followed and dragged another drawer towards her, settling it between her legs as he copied her position.

  “You want to go against the grain. Not too hard, we don’t want to get down to the wood completely. We’re going to stain it.”

  Evan watched as her hands operated and he caught on quickly. He let himself get lost in the work and began to enjoy himself, listening to the sounds of ol’ Louis Armstrong fill the air. It was nice to use his hands and feel creative, like he was doing something useful.

  “When did you start doing this type of stuff, Grace?”

  “Collecting antiques or fixing them?” She finished her drawer and grab
bed another. She was much better at this than he was.

  “Both.”

  “A little after college. I went to the City-Wide Garage Sale they hold at the Palmer Events Center, and just loved it. The first piece I refurbished was that hall tree at the entrance of my house. It’s fun and keeps me busy.”

  “That chair I sat on in your room, did you fix that one too?”

  “Yeah, I reupholstered that one. It was pretty old. The wood on it was in great condition. I stuffed the cushions and fixed the foot stool to match.”

  “It was a damn comfortable chair.”

  Grace paused her work and stared at him. “Did you stay there all night?”

  He grinned, hoping his answer would give him some brownie points with her. “I did. I started nodding off a few times, but kept myself busy.”

  “What were you reading anyway?”

  “Jane Eyre.”

  Grace laughed. “You serious? You read Jane Eyre?”

  “Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

  Grace shrugged. “Just surprised. You don’t seem like a Charlotte-Brontë-type reader to me.”

  Evan moved the drawer aside and grabbed another and continued his work. “I’m not. But it was there, and I saw you underlined all your favorite parts.”

  He saw the flush on her cheeks as she bowed her head, concentrating on the task at hand. Glancing around the garage, a few other things caught Evan’s eye. An easel and canvases were set up against the wall. Most of them were blank, but one canvas had an unfinished landscape. “You paint, Grace?”

  She hummed an answer as she followed his gaze to the supplies. “I haven’t had much time to focus on it lately. I need to buy more paints and new brushes.”

  “That’s my new favorite thing about you.”

  She chuckled, that rosy hue appearing on her skin again. “That I paint?”

  “Yeah. Not everyone can do that. You’re very creative.” The sounds of Nat King Cole filled the garage space and Evan found himself in awe of this woman. She knew what her passions were and worked on them without apology or fear. “Do you sell your work?”