A Promise Kept

A
Promise Kept

Copyright © 2016 AG Romance Reads LLC

C
over Design
: Regina Wamba with
MaeIDesign.com

Editor: Erin Noelle

Formatting: Jeff Senter with
Indie Formatting Services

A
LL RIGHTS RESERVED
. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

I
SBN
: 978-0-9975430-1-8 (Paperback)

ISBN: 978-0-9975430-0-1 (Ebook)

F
or Melissa
and Marla – Thank you for helping me every step of the way and believing in me even when I couldn’t find a way to believe in myself.

“
L
ead with your head
, not your heart.”
That was the motto thirty-two-year-old Grace Lynn Clark was told to follow by her father. After years of growing up with that saying, along with the constant
“Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
line, she thought she would have eventually found a way to comply with her old man. Instead, that was the opposite of what she had done when it came to her career.

Grace chuckled darkly under her breath and puffed away a stray lock of hair that fell out of her messy bun. It was because she followed her heart that she was now standing outside her new neighbor’s home waiting to evaluate a leak under the kitchen sink. Not all authors had great contracts, not all of them hit the bestseller lists, and only some of them had the opportunity to make writing their only profession.

Grace’s folks had moved away from her the moment she entered college, but the weight of their judgment still lurked. Thoughts of inadequacy couldn’t be helped when she had to ask a family friend for a job. And the
“Why can’t you be more like your brother”
line? Well, that had stopped soon after Nathan passed away, although she sometimes wondered what it would have been like if she had gone to law school instead of getting her degree in English.

At least this occupation gave her more time to write than her customer service gig at a makeup counter at the mall. Plus, she had worked as a property manager long enough by now that everything ran smoothly. Until this particular afternoon. The timing couldn’t have been more wrong, but she hurried her way over, having to abandon a very rare opportunity to have her own book signing at one of the local bookstores.

Grace shifted the heavy toolbox from one hand to the other, her patience starting to wear thin. The door swung open, and every thought escaped her brain. She swore her heart stopped beating as she stared at the strikingly large male specimen who stood before her. She would have taken the time to slowly roam over every inch of chest, arm, and torso muscle hugged by black cotton, or would have gawked at the way those dark jeans hugged his narrow hips, but instead, her eyes widened to the size of saucers as she focused on a face that was completely recognizable.

“You must be Grace.” The smooth tone of his voice wrapped around her ears as he held his hand out and introduced himself. “Evan Matthews.”

Grace quickly gathered her wits, as the personal lump of gray matter that was her brain began to function again. “I…wouldn’t have guessed.” Luckily her sarcasm was taken in stride with a warm smile. She ignored the instant shockwaves the large, warm, and callused hand sent throughout her body when he shook hers.

“You live here?” This wasn’t Hollywood, and although movies were sometimes filmed in the capital of Texas, it wasn’t a typical occurrence running into an A-list actor. Especially one who lived next door.

“For the next six months, according to my lease. I’d figure my property manager would know that already.” His cerulean eyes gleamed mischief. She had just met him and he was already teasing her. The thought gave Grace a slight thrill, then she remembered who this was. He was Evan Matthews, star of the multi-billion-dollar franchise
The Ending Series.
He was a charmer, most definitely.

“Funny, you looked a lot like a man named Zach Collins when you signed the paperwork a few weeks ago,” she quipped.

“Yeah, he’s my stand-in.”

Grace chuckled. Zach looked nothing like the gorgeous hunk in front of her. Evan’s body was drool-worthy. His muscle mass alone flashed a superhero status. The light brown stubble on his strong jaw demonstrated an edge, which was different from the clean-cut character he was most famous for playing on the big screen. She could almost say he looked handsome in a familiar sort of way—a way that made him amenable. A young Paul Newman, perhaps. She hoped a sigh didn’t escape her mouth as she thought of Brick from
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
.

“Come on in.” He held the door open as she passed, and without warning, he seized the toolbox she held in her other hand. Instant relief hit her arm from the released weight.

She strolled inside the tidy townhome. It was modern with neutral tones, black furniture dispersed throughout. The living room showed signs of being lived in with papers, scripts, and books scattered across the coffee table.

“I was expecting Zach to be here since he’s the one that called,” Grace commented as she approached the kitchen sink.

He followed and stood near her as she bent low, opening the cabinet and peering inside. “He’s my assistant.”

“He mentioned he had a roommate. I didn’t realize it would be Captain Drew Abrams.” God, could she be more awkward? Bringing up his movie role was probably a great way to alienate her tenant.

The beautiful film star crouched beside Grace and reached forward, ignoring her statement. She caught a whiff of something heavenly, and as he stretched toward her, she decided it was the perfect mixture of sandalwood, amber, and a hint of mandarin.

“Right there’s where it’s seeping,” he explained, glancing over at her. “I’ll try to tighten the screw, but I think the pipe needs replacement. It might be a tear. In that case, you’d definitely need a plumber out here to sweat-solder it in place.”

“Okay, well, I can try to tighten the screw right now, and we’ll see what happens.”

Evan stood after her and watched her movements. “We can try to flush the pipe. You want to flush my pipe, Grace?” His eyebrow cocked up, joy evident in his verbal banter.

God, he was such a flirt. It was a bit of a turn-off because she knew he probably spewed sexual innuendos left and right to all women he encountered. Having just read the latest issue of
US Weekly
, she was well aware of Evan’s appetite for women. In fact, he had just recently dumped reality star Rachel Smith, his flavor of the month.
Get a grip and stop gawking over him, Grace. He’s not for you.

She opened her toolbox, the clang of the lid echoing against the countertop, and a hearty laugh escaped his mouth. She glowered at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Pink-colored tools?”

Grace swore her cheeks flushed the same hue, but gave him an artful grin. “What’s wrong with pink-colored tools?”

He shook his head and stepped back, giving Grace the opportunity to reach for the pipe wrench. “Absolutely nothing. It’s cute, actually.” As he gazed at her, she knew what he was looking at—a petite brunette in her early thirties dressed in yoga pants, a plain shirt, and Nike running shoes. The look didn’t scream sexy, but after Zach stated the leak made a huge mess, Grace thought it best to change into clothes she didn’t mind getting dirty.

“What exactly are you planning to do there?” His voice trailed off as Grace turned on the faucet, bent low, and twisted the valve, allowing the water supply to turn on.

“I’m checking the leak–”

“Shit, I wouldn’t do that…”

Grace yelped as water drenched her face. Trying to stop it, she wrapped her hand around the pipe, which only made the water spray in different directions. She tried to reach for the valve, but lost her balance and fell forward. Two strong hands clasped around her waist and pulled her back. Evan easily shut the supply off, letting the water dissipate to a small trickle. “Way to go, Ms. Fix It,” he chuckled.

Grace wiped her eyes clear of water and nodded with a feigned confidence in her assessment. “Looks like a tear in the pipe.”

“Clearly.” Evan’s body reached full height, and his hand extended to assist her, but she avoided touching him. She pulled herself to standing position as he offered her a dishtowel. Embarrassment washed over her as she patted her skin dry. A smile played across his lips in amusement. “It was a nice attempt. At least I got you all wet.”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest in defense. His gaze followed the movement, lingered on her breasts, until his eyes met Grace’s with impact. She cleared her throat as she tried to push away any thoughts of attraction. “You know, Zach told me this was an emergency, but with the valve turned off it’s not that bad.”

“Zach over-exaggerates.”

“He said he needed it fixed immediately.” Annoyance began to creep in and overshadowed the excitement of standing in front of Mr. Hollywood.

“He’s always been dramatic.” His toothy grin remained as his eyes roamed toward her lips. Discomfort was beginning to set in, along with frustrated lust.

She planted her hands on her hips, her mouth scowling. “I was in the middle of a signing. I had to leave for this.”

“Signing?” The curiosity in his voice perked up. “Signing for what?”

“My book.” Grace pulled the top of the toolbox off and began to dig inside the lower compartment. “I had to leave early, and for no reason.”

“You’re an author?”

She found the roll of magic tape and began to unwind it. “Never mind that. I’m kind of pissed off now.”

“How long have you been managing properties?”

Grace’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Evan in confusion. He blatantly disregarded her bubbling anger. Writing was her life. It was her livelihood. It was the most important thing in the world to her. Sure, she didn’t know him, but it was just the type of behavior to expect from a movie star. He only cared about himself. “A while, but did you not just hear what I said? I’m upset. My signing was important to me.”

“And how long have you been writing?”

“A long time.” She bent under the sink again and wrapped the magic tape around the pipe repeatedly to properly cover the affected area.

“So, I could go to Book People right now and buy your books if I wanted?” he inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.

“If you’re into historical romance, then yes.”

The task at hand was complete. She took the time to wipe the water under the sink, then straightened to find Evan standing way too close. He grabbed the towel from her hand as he towered over her. The brushing of his fingers over hers made her legs wobble. An electric current ran throughout her body.

“Thanks for wrapping my pipe.”

They were both quiet for a moment, staring at each other longer than necessary. The tension between them was growing, and Grace had to quickly shut off that part of her brain. He was dangerous, a serial womanizer, a playboy. “If you’ll excuse me, I should go. I have a deadline to meet.”

“What are you working on now?” he asked casually as she shut and locked her toolbox more violently than necessary.

“Do you always ask this many questions?” Her tenor was semi-teasing. A ringtone blared, and she excused herself as she dug into her pocket and glanced at the screen. “I need to answer this.”

He nodded as Grace spoke with force and determination to the plumber on the other end of the line. Hearing that he wasn’t available until late afternoon the next day did nothing to placate her. “Unacceptable. I need you here earlier. If you can’t make it, I’ll go with another company.” The man made another excuse and Grace growled, her voice firm. “It’s a crack in the pipe, and I don’t just happen to have plumber’s putty hanging around my house.”

Grace knew the tape would hold over for a few days, but this plumber only got the job done when she held steady and gave him a scare. Most of the time men thought her helpless, and then revealed surprise when she took care of things herself. “Alright then, I’m calling Al’s Plumbing. Thank you.” He sputtered what she wanted to hear. “Okay, on the dot.” After ending the call, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and saw Evan look at her in a daze with his head tilted in interest. “Plumber will be here first thing tomorrow morning. Nine sharp.”

“You’re a bit of a badass, Grace.”

“It’s a gift,” she joked, tugging the toolbox from the countertop, the weight pulling her shoulder down a notch.

“I like it.” His voice sounded raspy and gritty.

Evan did well in keeping stride with her as she walked toward the entrance, disregarding his compliment. Something caught her eye near the door.

“That baseboard has a gap.”

Evan shrugged. “Is that bad?”

“Well, it can negatively affect the energy efficiency.” Leaning over, she saw it had a small fracture in the corner. “It needs to be sealed. I’ll figure something out with it,” she quietly muttered and made a mental note. Her to-do list was growing longer than she had expected.

“Not only do you fix my leak, but you’re gonna caulk my crack too?”

Looking back to him, she saw his eyes crinkling as he chewed on his lip. No longer able to hold back, they both burst out laughing. “Are you always this ridiculous, Mr. Matthews?”

“Maybe.” He continued to give her a studied look. His stance was confident and calm. It was sexy as hell and making her nervous. “So, what do you do when you’re not writing or property managing, Grace?”

“Fighting crime in my invisible jet, of course.”
Don’t get too personal,
she warned herself.

“And when you’re not busy saving the world?”

She shifted the burdensome toolbox, gripping it with both hands and holding it in front of her. “Regular stuff, I guess. Go out with friends. Go to the bookstore. There’s a lot to do in this city, if that’s what you’re trying to get at. The film festival is next week. You’re not attending?”