Cover Spell (7 page)

“Ok, keep me posted and say hi to Evan for me.” She laughed and made a kissing sound in the phone.

“Again, not funny. Bye, Holly.” I put the phone back in my bag and headed to the door. I wanted some fresh air and gossip.

The hotel lobby buzzed with the sounds and activity from the production crew. Everyone had gathered around the bar and adjacent sitting area, waiting to hear the latest on Emmy. I spotted Evan at the end of one of the long, pale yellow velvet couches sitting as close to the television as he could. He had a cup of coffee in his hand. I noticed he had changed back into his boots, a pair of jeans, and another T-shirt I imagined smelled like clean soap. I walked up to him and cleared my throat a little.

“This seat taken?” I pointed to the open spot on the couch next to him.

“Ivy, hey.” He half-smiled at me. Small worry lines ran along his forehead, and he was distracted. “Yeah, darlin’, sit. Sit down.” He patted the cushion, and I planted myself next to him.

“So, what’s going on down here? I didn’t feel like waiting up in my room anymore.” The sound girls were on the couch across from us, whispering to each other. I ignored them.

“Eh, I’m trying to figure it out too. I don’t know where Emmy could have run off to.” He rubbed his free hand on his knee. “You drink coffee?” I nodded. “Ok, good. Let me get some coffee for you.” He jumped up and disappeared around a potted palm tree.

Oversized crystal chandeliers hung from the ornately painted ceilings of the Hotel François lobby. The marble floors tiled in a checkered pattern, and oriental rugs rolled under plush velvet and mahogany furniture. The center table of the lobby greeted guest with a cascading pillar of delicate white and purple orchids. I studied the fragile petals while I waited for Evan to return.

Seconds later, Evan reappeared with piping hot coffee in a china cup. “Here you go.”

I took the cup from his hand and balanced it on the saucer it accompanied. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Aw, Ivy, that’s nice, but I don’t think so. I’m sure she’s just shopping somewhere or something.” He started rubbing his knee again.

I was afraid to ask him, but more afraid of my rampant imagination if I didn’t. “Evan, if you don’t mind me asking, why was she so steamed at you today?” It really was none of my business. I bit my lower lip, waiting for his response.

He stopped, sipped his coffee, and faced me on the couch. The room was a little quieter, and I was afraid some eavesdroppers might have heard my question.

“Aah, that? It was nothing. I was giving her some acting tips. Pointers to help her with the scene. She’s still sorta new to the business, and I thought I could help her. We just couldn’t get in a groove. The porch didn’t feel right to me; it was too big for the scene. You know.”

Finally. Someone else saw the same issue I did with that disastrous exchange. He smiled at me again and took another sip of his coffee.

“But, she didn’t take to the advice too much. I guess you and everyone else saw that. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.” He examined the room. All eyes were on us and our coffee drinking as we huddled in front of the television.

I considered Evan’s response and waited for my witchy instincts to tip my thoughts forward or backward. Before I registered a direction, Evan stood.

“Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed my cup and saucer, rattled them onto the marble coffee table sitting two feet in front of us, and pulled me off the couch with both hands.

I looked up at him. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here, darlin’. Anywhere but here.”

With a smile, I followed Evan out of Hotel François and into the New Orleans heat. The doorman called a cab for us, and Evan shuttled me into the car.

The driver deposited us on the edge of town. It didn’t look familiar. Surely, this place wasn’t on the Big Easy travel brochure.

“Where are we?” I looked at Evan as I examined the rundown, white shack situated on the gravel lot in front of us.

“Somewhere we can hide out for a little while.” He looked happy.

He opened a squeaky screen door for me, and I ducked into the restaurant. The ceiling hung low, and red and blue rope lights draped along the exposed wooden beams. Cajun music resonated, and I saw a three-piece band playing in the corner. There was a single bartender talking to a customer over a plate of fries. I didn’t see any fruity, umbrella drinks.

“You like it?” he asked.

It was quaint, non-touristy, and no one was looking at us. I loved it. “Yes.”

“Bartender, two beers.” He held up two fingers, and the bartender, wearing an “I-heart-Louisiana” T-shirt, nodded at us.

I had a feeling as long as we stayed here we would make it through the night without ending up online. I had something I wasn’t sure was possible—alone time with Evan.

He guided me into a booth in the corner that had peeling vinyl seats. White stuffing poked out of the ripped seams, and I scooted to the side to avoid the rough edges on my legs. Evan ordered a large platter of crayfish from our waitress. She delivered the steaming pile of shellfish, a few bowls of butter, and spicy cocktail sauce. We laughed while we devoured our meal. He showed me how to eat the shrimp-like creatures, and we drank more beer.

“How did you find this place?” I asked through a mouthful of crayfish.

“That’s a secret, darlin’.” He laughed at me. I was glad to see he was having some fun. “Naw, I’m just kiddin’. I used to play football when I was in Texas, and sometimes we traveled this way. The coaches liked this place.” I remembered seeing some of his college football pictures during his movie promos. “There are still a few people out there who remember me from before I was an actor. They treat me like a regular person—like you do. They don’t want pictures or autographs, and they don’t want to be introduced to my Hollywood friends. They know me—the real Evan. That’s why I like hanging out with you, Ivy. You’re like that.”

I knew I was blushing now. He grabbed my hand across the table. “I’m sorry about the videos.”

Did he know I was upset about seeing our gyrating hips online? “It’s not your fault.” I squeezed his hand and leaned forward so that most of my body crossed the table. “You did warn me. And I liked the dancing.” I locked eyes with the sexy star.

He tilted forward and waived his lips in front of mine, almost grazing them. “I know you liked it. I definitely did.”

The huskiness in his voice rumbled over my ear, causing my legs to go weak for a second. I was glad I was sitting down in the booth. Regaining my senses and reeling in my shameless flirting, I settled into the seat again.

I looked around, wishing this were the kind of place where people danced. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my time with Evan right now.

“So, how long have you been writing?” He disturbed my plan to end up in his arms.

“Uh—” I blushed. He flustered me more than I wanted to admit. “Not long. I wrote
Masquerade
two years ago, and after that, I wrote
Vegas Star
. I’m supposed to be working on something new.”

“I saw
Vegas Star
. That was awesome. How do you come up with all of the ideas?” He took a sip of beer.

It was funny to take a compliment from such a big star. “Thanks.” I smiled. “I’m inspired by things around me. I do a lot of people watching.” It was my standard answer to that question. Part of me wanted to open up to Evan. Not tell him any of the witchy stuff, but tell him something. He felt safe.

“Well, you’re obviously talented. You’ve got two hit movies and I’m sure whatever you write next will be just as big.”

I hadn’t thought about the next book being anything yet. I had no idea what it was going to be. “I don’t write for the screenplays. I don’t actually plan on that. It’s going to be a book first.”

“Aah, ok. Well, can I read it?” He chewed on his lower lip and I thought I probably hadn’t seen anything sexier in my life.

“Sure. But I don’t know what it is yet. I’m waiting for inspiration to hit me.”

“You know, I’m pretty good with brainstorming.” He motioned to the waitress to bring us another round.

“Are you?” I liked the idea of Evan helping me come up with a list of plot ideas. He could help me anytime he wanted.

“Yep. As a matter of fact, I have an idea for a movie.” He arched his eyebrows.

“Really?” I watched as he stood from the booth and relocated next to me. He extended his arm behind my shoulder.

He smiled. “Maybe if I sit close to you, no one will hear. That ok?” He took another swig from the bottle.

I nodded. I would sit here as long as he wanted. If he read the dictionary, it would probably be sexy.

By the time we left the off-the-beaten-path bar and restaurant, the Cajun trio was playing to a full house. There was a line forming outside of the squeaky screen door. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one keeping one of New Orleans’s best secrets.

As we rode to the hotel in the back of the cab, I wrapped my arm through Evan’s tanned, muscular arm, and rested my head on the clean-smelling space below his shoulder. His hand rested on my waist. It fit perfectly. Everything about Evan seemed perfect. I was glad we had miles to go before reaching the hotel. I could stay here all night.

I was surprised when we walked through the glass doors of the hotel that the lobby was empty. Evan and I exchanged looks.

“I wonder if there is any news.” I considered the possibility we had missed Emmy’s return during our escape. Evan pushed the button for the elevator.

“No, probably not. I would have gotten a text or call.” He waved his phone in front of me to indicate the screen was blank and there was no news on Emmy.

“What floor?” he asked.

“I’m on the fifth, please.” I almost whispered it to him.

The beers were swirling around my head, and I felt warm and relaxed. Dinner was fun. Being with Evan was fun. It was easy, apart from the constant paparazzi hounding his every move. Tonight he had managed to ditch them and it felt like a normal date. We were like regular people eating dinner, sharing drinks, and cuddling in the back of a cab.

He shoved his phone in his back pocket and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The elevator started the slow climb toward my floor. I wanted to nuzzle back in his chest, but the doors retracted and Evan pushed his hand onto the side of the sliding doors so I could exit. He followed me down the hall. I reached in my bag and fumbled for the key card.

“Here it is.” I waved the card in my hand and punched it into the door’s lock. I turned around, and Evan was standing inches from me.

He brushed my hair back from my cheek and tucked the loose strands behind my ear, letting his fingers trace my cheek. “Good night, Ivy.” He whispered to keep his deep voice from carrying through the hallway. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on the heels of his boots.

My heart sank. He was backing up. “You wanna come in?”

“Darlin’, I’d love to. But with everything going on right now, I think I’ll take a rain check.”

My eyes widened as he leaned in. I had wondered all night what his lips would feel like. They looked like they were meant for kissing. I tried not to pout when he kissed me on the cheek. His lips lingered for a second next to mine, just long enough for me to inhale the soapy clean scent that I now knew as Evan Carlson’s signature scent. Part of me wanted to grab him, pull him closer, and steal a kiss from the movie star I had been flirting with all night. I thought he was going to relocate his mouth onto mine, but instead he rocked back on his heels and smiled.

“Night.” He tipped a salute at me from his forehead. I had lost count of how many beers Evan had consumed during our great escape. He might have been drunker than I realized.

“Good night, Evan.” I returned the salute and laughed.

I retreated into my room. Using my back, I closed the door behind me, and then sighed.
Too fast, Ivy
.
What were you thinking?
I tossed my bag on the dresser and sank to the floor, resting my back against the door. An actual kiss would have been nice.
One kiss isn’t too fast, is it?
The past month had been anything but easy on my heart and mind. I knew I needed to move slowly with Evan, but we were having so much fun. Besides, he had a reputation with women despite his Texas gentleman side. There was no way he thought a kiss was too much. I had almost forgotten I knew how to have fun until Evan emerged. I giggled. Was I turning into one of those dreaded girls in one of his romantic comedies?

I heard a light
tap, tap, tap
on the door. I smiled and jumped up. Butterflies flitted around my stomach. He had come back to kiss me after all. Perfect movie scene ending to a perfect night. Without even looking in the peephole, I threw open the door with a bright smile on my face.

“Change your mind—” I halted in mid-sentence. “Finn?”

My gorgeous, crystal-blue eyed, hotter-than-hell ex leaned into the doorframe and winked. “Hey, babe.”