A Promise Kept (10 page)

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

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

T
he 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 grabbed 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?”

“When I actually complete a painting, yes. I’ll go to the Blue Genie Art Bazaar or sell online.”

Grace stood and began to reach for the can of wood stain in the corner. Evan followed and placed his palm on the desk. “And this desk? Where’s this going to sit?”

“I’m going to sell it.”

“What?” His voice dropped in disappointment as he took off his gloves. “Our first project together and you’re selling it?”

“We can’t all be paid millions for our work, Evan. Gotta pay those student loans off somehow.”

He unexpectedly felt his profession was unfair and absurd. Here he was getting paid an obscene amount of money for memorizing lines while Grace put so much energy in working to make ends meet. Her eyes were on him in a flash. “Don’t you dare, Evan Matthews.”

His eyes crinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t feel bad. I was teasing you.”

“I know, but it is outrageous what I get paid. I feel guilty sometimes.”

He exhaled in frustration and saw the gleam of inspiration in Grace’s chocolate eyes. She tugged her gloves off and moved near him. Her voice was firm. “Your work is just as important as anyone else’s. People are happy when they see your movies. They get transported and escape their lives. It’s just like reading a book. You deserve your success.”

Evan shrugged unconvinced, but Grace grabbed his shoulders, turning him toward her. “Evan, you’re a very gifted actor. There’s no reason for you not to get paid well. If it wasn’t you getting the money the studio heads would get it all. And why should they when you’re the one selling the film? You give up your privacy, your vulnerability, and all of yourself on that movie screen. It’s your art. Don’t ever feel guilty for that.”

This woman eased his concerns in a moment, making him feel as though everything was right in the world. He could no longer hold back. He dropped his head to hers and let his lips descend, taking the sweetness of her mouth to his and demanding it without regret. His hands cradled her face gently, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. The kiss was passionate and slow. He took his time, pacing himself under the circumstances.

His tongue gently slipped between her lips and a moan escaped her under the sensual movements. His hands motivated, he pushed her bandana off and tangled his fingers in her soft brown hair. Their urgency grew and they savored and drank each other in as she fisted his shirt at his waist. He had her, but only for a flash of a moment until he felt her body tighten.

He let his lips withdraw, taking a tiny last taste before moving back. He studied her as she tried to get her bearings. Her forehead rested against his chest and he kissed her crown as their breathing steadied and his heart rate decelerated. “You alright?”

“No,” she whispered and moved away. Her back was now to him as she grabbed and fixed her bandana and Evan wondered if shit was about to hit the fan.

Instead of saying anything, however, she disregarded what happened and moved toward the can of wood stain and began to pry it open. The heat between them had left and was replaced with uncertainty and hesitance. “Grace?”

She grabbed two large brushes and handed one to him. A tiny smile strained on her lips, but Evan knew a million thoughts were running through her brain as they were his. “Let’s finish this desk, Captain.”

He watched as she dipped the brush in and began to buff the top of the wood. Her eyes stayed down, but her breathing was labored and her cheeks flushed. He started on the other side of the desk following the same direction she went. He cleared his throat after some time passed and Nat King Cole transitioned into James Taylor.