Provoke_ A Seaside Pictures Novella (Seaside Pictures #3.7) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,12

all the time.” Lies. I’d never worked with anyone who had Braden’s magnetism. It was intimidating and impossible to ignore.

He snapped another picture, this time of my face. “So you work with musically gifted savants who have red hair, mad kissing skills, and big hands? Crazy, and here I thought I was the only one.” He winked.

I opened my mouth to say something when he suddenly held out his hands. “Right there, don’t move.” He lifted the camera and took another shot. His blue eyes were intense, locked onto me so vividly that I forgot to breathe, forgot what I was even there for. Because all I kept thinking about was him. I was here for him, in so many ways.

I’d never been the type of person to make it personal—my job. But with him, it felt that way, and I couldn’t figure out why.

On the outside, I was a professional doing her job.

On the inside, I was counting his smiles.

And wondering what I had to sacrifice to get more.

I was greedy for them.

A few days in and the way he looked at me gave me hope that not all guys were narcissistic jerks.

“One more.” He smirked. “Jump in the air. I want to take a picture of pure joy.”

I burst out laughing. “What makes you think jumping would make me joyful?”

“Oh, you know, just thinking that a life coach very much likes to live for the tiny moments because it reminds her that she’s alive.”

I gaped. “That was deep.”

“Musician.” He pointed at himself. “Now jump.”

It felt like a double entendre. The air felt pregnant with tension and unspoken meaning. I didn’t want to dissect what was happening, so I just listened rather than gave orders.

“Like this?” I jumped into the air, throwing sand while he snapped the picture.

He bent over laughing, and then his eyes got wide.

“What?”

“STOP!” He held out his hands. “Just…don’t move!”

I heard “don’t move,” but the ocean was so loud that I didn’t stop moving until I took another step, directly onto something slimy.

“Ew, gross—oh, shit!” I yelped and then went crashing down next to a jellyfish that, even though it looked dead, could still sting the crap out of my foot.

“Piper!” Braden was at my side in an instant. “Thank God it only got the side.”

Fire raged over my foot then headed up my ankle and kept going. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and then dropped down my wind-stung cheeks as I whimpered in pain. “Are you sure? Because it feels like it got my entire leg!”

He swiped his thumbs under my eyes, wiping my tears away. “I’m sorry, I should have thought it through. It’s jellyfish season. There’s more on the beach than usual.”

I sniffled as the wind picked up, matting my hair to my tear-stained cheeks, and messing up my lip gloss.

“Up you go.” He gently picked me up, cradling me in his arms.

“Oh.” I pressed a hand to his chest and watched him steel his expression as he glanced at my foot and started to walk. “You really don’t have to—”

“This is my fault.” I could feel him limping on his bad leg and hated that I was probably adding to his pain, along with his memory of the incident.

“Brad—”

He shot me a glare. “Let me carry you, Piper.”

“Okay.” Part of me wondered if he was carrying me out of the guilt that still clung to his memory or if he was just worried.

My ex would have probably asked if he needed to pee on me Friends style and then would have documented it for his IG stories because, you know, influencers gotta document it all!

I winced.

“You hanging in there?” Braden asked.

I nodded and then ducked my head against his chest as more tears fell of their own accord.

It was painful, like really painful.

“If that jellyfish wasn’t already dead, I’d kill it dead,” I said through my teeth as I tried to blink away the hot tears. “Stupid stingers.”

Braden smiled down at me as we finally made it back to the boardwalk and then to his massive beach house. “I’m sure you would have put up a killer fight, small-fry.”

“Hey!” I sniffled as the burning sensation pulsed around my foot. “I would have.”

“Methinks you would have most likely slipped on your ass after trying to throw your shoe at it.”

I glared, thankful for the distraction.

He chuckled and then opened the front door and walked me into the living room, setting me on the leather couch and flipping on the fireplace.

Before