A Promise Made (Promise #2) Read online

  A PROMISE MADE

  Copyright © 2016 AG Romance Reads LLC

  Cover and book design by Mae I Design & Photography

  Editor: Erin Noelle

  ALL 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.

  ISBN Ebook: 978-0-9975430-2-5

  ISBN Paperback: 978-0-9975430-3-2

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Acknowledgments

  About Anissa Garcia

  For my parents—

  Thank you for supporting my crazy dreams and helping me bring them to fruition, even when they didn’t work out the way that I thought they would.

  Believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.

  —RAINER MARIA RILKE

  Don’t panic.

  That was my first thought as Evan Matthews poured an obscene amount of salt into the tomato-based sauce I was teaching him how to cook.

  “Um, Marla? I might’ve messed this up.”

  “Don’t panic.” Frantically, I rushed to his girlfriend’s pantry and searched for the needed product to counteract the mishap. Good thing my best friend Grace Clark was stocked with the necessities all kitchens should have, but right now my thoughts were zoned in on the brown sugar.

  Shoving Evan aside, I dumped a spoonful into the boiling pot and stirred. “Crisis averted,” I said calmly, moving back to the kitchen island where my project sat.

  “Marla Sullivan—super cook!” Grace smiled as she entered the kitchen.

  I continued to knead the sticky dough with my hands and added flour in small amounts. “Okay, now put in the oregano, but just a quarter teaspoon. Then the basil. Same amount. Be careful!”

  “I’ll do it.” Grace nodded as she measured out each spice. We were roommates in college, and at first she was an introvert. In many ways, she still was. Writers were known to be that way, but my friend Jaime Caldwell and I really got her to open up. Now she was dating the love of her life, who stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He also happened to be a movie star, although to us, he’d just become any other dude.

  Grace turned, holding up a spoon to his mouth to let him taste the secret recipe I had come up with years ago. Evan groaned in appreciation as he licked his lips. “This is amazing. I can’t believe I almost screwed that up. Why aren’t you a chef again, Marla?”

  “Nobody could afford me,” I joked as I picked up the lump of dough and massaged it, then sprinkled flour over the counter and threw the ball down, continuing to mold it.

  Grace chuckled as she took a taste from the spoon herself. “You could be like Giada and say things like moh-tzerrrr-ella and parrrr-mi-giana in the correct accent.”

  “Put the top on, Grace.” I loved cooking. It was a form of escape, a hobby, a passion. There was something so fulfilling and divine about making a meal from scratch and getting to share it with people you cared for. To see their expression of bliss when they ate something I created was awesome. Cooking for my little sister became a normal occurrence growing up, as we were alone most of the time. Nowadays, I was cooking for one, as my sister Ally lived in San Francisco. “Let it simmer for just a bit. We’re only going to use a little bit for the pizza. The rest will be for the homemade ravioli. Grace, can you get the ricotta cheese and dump it in a bowl?”

  “Sure thing, Barefoot Contessa.” Grace handed the spoon to Evan, who wore an apron around his body that said Kiss The Cook. He would’ve procured a chef’s hat if Grace hadn’t stopped him. Last week he pulled me aside to ask if I was willing to teach him how to make a meal for his girl. I had set up the time and date, but he wasn’t the best at keeping secrets from her, and she wanted in on the lessons.

  They were cute together. Grace deserved a great guy, and he was the kind you hoped to land. She had gone through her share of heartache. Having lost her brother when she was young made her guarded toward most men throughout her life. She didn’t let people close, but this Hollywood heartthrob had won her over. Funny thing was, he was still trying to do that, and I suspected he would continue for the rest of their lives. It was sweet, and as much as I tried to pretend I hated the idea of trying for another relationship, truth was, I wanted one.

  Evan’s laugh caught my attention, and I glanced at him as he pocketed his phone. “I told Josh he should’ve come over here instead of on that date.”

  Date? What date? Josh was on a date? With who? The idea of Evan’s friend gave me uneven emotions I couldn’t comprehend. I hated guys like him. Don’t blame me, you know what type of guys I’m talking about—those meatheads that lived in the gym, swearing they were in it for the health aspect, when really all they wanted was attention for their hot bodies. They took naked selfies and sent them to women who stalked them and sucked their dicks at the drop of a dime.

  Yeah, Josh McKenzie was that. Sexy, with strong broad shoulders, arms covered in ink, and a chest that shielded the expanse of the doorway. That guy oozed sex appeal. Those icy-blue eyes could pierce into your soul and take you over, making you want to do things for him like worship him, give him blow jobs day and night, have his babies, and call him Daddy. There was no way I’d let myself fall for that. No way in hell. Not even with that British accent.

  “Are you okay?” Grace stared at me in shock as I finished punching the dough senseless.

  Strands of loose hair fell over my face and I huffed out in an attempt to blow them away. They settled back over my eyes. “Fine. Why?”

  “What did that dough ever do to you?” Evan asked. Grace smiled knowingly at him, then stared at me.

  Those two weren’t smooth, not by a long shot. “What? I was concentrating. This is how you make the pizza dough.”

  Grace began to stir the ricotta into the freshly steamed spinach and kept her eyes down, but a sly grin shot again between the two of them. “I’m not into Josh, guys.”

  “We didn’t say anything,” Evan’s voice sang as he took out the pizza toppings from the fridge. He moved over to the sink and washed the fresh button mushrooms. “Just that, if you were interested, I could put in a good word.”

  “No good word needed, Evan.” I couldn’t believe they would even assume I would like Josh. We didn’t even get along.

  “That confident, are you?” Evan�
�s gorgeous eyebrow had a mind of its own when it cocked up like that. I wished I could wax the entire thing off of him in one gooey pull.

  “No. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t need a good word, it’s just—I wouldn’t need one with him because I’m not interested.” I punched the dough one more time for good measure and violently swathed it in saran wrap, placing it in the fridge. “Let’s move on to the ravioli, please. And Evan, chop those mushrooms.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted me with his signature Captain Abrams salute, the character he was world-famous for playing on the big screen. If he wasn’t so darn adorable and Grace’s favorite man, I would smack the life out of him.

  I helped Grace along with the spinach stuffing and then moved to the pasta maker. My mind went over their chatter. Why did they think I was into Josh? I hated the guy. He reminded me of my ex. Well, not my last ex, my other ex. Ryan Dane was my last ex, and he was almost as horrible as the first.

  Ryan was a co-star in The Ending Series with Evan. I met him at the cast’s Halloween party. He was handsome, charming, and climbing up the Hollywood ranks. But not all guys were as kind as Evan Matthews, and Ryan Dane certainly wasn’t. With his boyish charisma, dark brown eyes, and lopsided grin, Ryan was the guy I hoped would be someone I could find myself loving. Someone I thought who would love me.

  Cut to a few months later and I find him making out with some hoochie. What did he do when I found him out? He didn’t beg for my forgiveness or try to apologize. Nope. He asked me to join in with him and Jenny, some skank on the set of their movie.

  I may have given him a black eye to match his black heart. Okay, two black eyes. I gave him two. But I couldn’t control when my fist shot out. And although it hurt like hell, it felt so damn good to get out that pent up anger, I did it to the other eye as well.

  “So, who’s Josh on a date with?” Crap. Did I just ask that out loud?

  “A girl from the set. I warned him about her, but he didn’t listen,” Evan said as he dried the mushrooms and worked his way to the cutting board. He was so damn slow; it would be a miracle if this was done for dinnertime.

  “Who is it? Not that Jenny chick,” Grace groaned.

  My head shot up, my gaze straight to Evan. He nodded. “Yep. That girl is quite the troublemaker.”

  “Jenny Davis?” My eyes narrowed and all I could see was red. Red, almost like the color of my hair, red. “Of course he’d be out with her. Typical.”

  My hand clutched onto the side of the counter as the other held out the pasta to help Grace feed it into the machine. “How do you know her, Marla?”

  “She’s the whore that Ryan was making out with when I caught them.”

  “Oh, shit. No threesome with Jenny?” Evan tried to stifle a laugh, and I grabbed the empty container of ricotta and hurled it at him. He, of course, dodged it on time.

  “I can’t stand her,” Grace declared as she continued to run the pasta through until it became smooth and straight. She laid each piece on the counter. “She tried to make up these rumors about Evan when I visited him on set. I told her to shut her mouth real quick.”

  “And that’s why I love my girl,” Evan moved toward Grace and kissed her temple.

  They were too cute for their own good, I couldn’t help but respond. “Gag me.”

  “Thought that was Ryan’s job,” Evan laughed as I grabbed a knife and pointed it toward him. I tried to keep my mouth from turning into a grin, but it couldn’t be helped, and I laughed along with the both of them. “Why don’t you get closer, Evan? I can cut off your tongue and cook it for dinner,” I joked.

  “You can’t take away his tongue. I enjoy what it does too much.” Grace gave Evan a sweet kiss and I looked away. Public displays of affection made me uncomfortable.

  “Okay, enough you two, I don’t need to lose my lunch.” Grace and Evan had the perfect relationship. Like my mother and father. They were disgustingly in love, even after over thirty-some years of marriage. What? Don’t ask me specific numbers, I never remembered that shit. Besides, it wasn’t like I was that close with them. They were too busy as international investment bankers, traveling all over the planet helping everyone except their own children. I didn’t resent them, but I had to grow up fast, step up my role as caretaker to my sister.

  Anyway, it was only a matter of time before Evan would ask Grace to get married. I knew it was inevitable. I just had to wait for when he would want my advice for a wedding ring. He’d better ask me, because nobody knew Grace’s taste better than myself.

  I wasn’t considered a romantic. Men made me too angry over the years, and the more I dated assholes, the more cynical I became. For the most part, I didn’t think true love existed. But every now and then, there were the exceptions… and two of them were standing in front of me.

  Screw that Jenny Davis. Ryan Dane and Aiden Rhodes were included, and all the other idiots who took my heart and stomped on it, leaving it almost deflated. Screw them all. I wouldn’t let them win. Cynicism be damned. Somehow, someway, someone would be the right guy for me. I wouldn’t date some man with issues. I needed a guy I could depend on. And he didn’t have icy-blue eyes, lush lips, and a voice like silk. His name was not Josh McKenzie.

  I felt like I was in purgatory, only with better food. Why did I do this to myself? This date was pure torture. My attempt to focus on the woman eating her salad in birdlike bites was waning as she continued to prattle on about something Kim Kardashian had done the day before. The words Kanye and North were sprinkled in as I rested my arms on the table and lamented not taking her for a simple coffee instead. But I was old fashioned that way. I thought a lunch date would be the way to go.

  I couldn’t be blamed for trying, the girl was highly attractive. With long legs, a lean body, and golden wavy hair, she was most men’s idea of a wet dream. Her fairylike features, tanned skin, and light green eyes made her worthy of magazine covers. Of course, her large rack had a bit to do with that as well. It was unfortunate she had the personality of a wet noodle.

  The weather outside summoned me to leave. February in Austin was what Los Angeles felt like in the spring. That meant it was sunny and cool, and I wished to take my boxer Hank for a nice outing to Zilker Park. I desired to escape, be free of this girl, who waited for me to answer a question that went over my head. I nodded and pushed my empty plate forward, having enjoyed the order of enchiladas from Mr. Natural, a vegan and vegetarian restaurant that Jenny, my current date, had insisted upon.

  The thought of her healthy dining choice spurred me to think this might be a good match. Health was my main concern. After all, I couldn’t preach to my clients to live a healthy lifestyle if I wasn’t the epitome of it. Live by example. That’s what my mother always taught me. The food was excellent; I gave Jenny that. However, her company was less so. This woman’s conversations were like running on a treadmill. You went forward without actually getting anywhere, which left you tired and bored. I couldn’t wait for it to stop.

  I glanced at my phone as it pinged, and I held back a groan.

  Evan: How’s the date with Jenny, loser?

  Me: You shithead, thanks for the warning.

  Evan Matthews was my long-time friend. I had met him eight years prior when he was looking for a personal trainer to prepare for his first film in The Ending Series. The studio hired me, and I continued to help him ever since. He was now filming the last installment of the franchise.

  Evan had in fact, warned me about this girl, but not in a way that was obvious. He’d given a look, shook his head, and smirked when I’d told him I asked out the cute assistant to the assistant director. I’d insisted Evan elaborate on his reaction, but he’d only laughed and wished me luck. Now I knew why. I would bust his arse in training tomorrow. Even though Evan claimed to hate it, he employed me regardless. It was because I was great at my job, and I loved it.

  Evan: Red’s here. Bet you wish you were.

  Red. That’s what we called her behind her back. Marla Sullivan
was the woman with a witty mouth and fiery personality. She was the woman I had fantasies about every single day since the moment I laid eyes on her.

  Evan’s neighbor, Grace Clark, was on his radar the moment we arrived in Austin. It was four months ago that he forced me to tag along to the author’s home when her pizza accidentally got delivered to Evan’s house. It was evident Grace’s friend, Jaime, had sent it to him on purpose in order to meet the famous movie star. The tactic proved to work, and now Evan and Grace were in love and inseparable.

  That pizza accident was also the day I met Grace’s other friend, the sexy little lady/ woman with deep red hair and plump lips that had been seared into my brain. She had been the most stunning thing. However, I had a feeling she wasn’t too fond of me. I wondered what it would be like to tackle her into bed. Pull on all that red hair on her head while shutting her mouth with a hot kiss. The grin across my face must’ve told my current date something it shouldn’t have.

  “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

  The girl’s overly eager eyes focused on me, and I sensed desperation as she moved forward and clasped my hand. Her foot stretched forward rubbing against my calf, making its way up. She moved fast. Perhaps a quick go with Jenny wouldn’t be too bad. Stress could be relieved. It was a fleeting thought. The last thing I needed was for her to run her mouth around the set. The director, as well as the other actors, were my clients, and I didn’t need shit spread around, especially when I knew it would only be a one-time deal.

  “My dog. He’s… hungry.”

  She huffed, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re thinking about your dog?”

  “I love my dog.” She cowered at the intensity of my glare. Hank was important to me, and someone who wouldn’t understand that, wouldn’t understand me. I had found the helpless boxer hiding next to a trash bin in the alley near my home. He’s been my closest companion ever since.