Page 9 of Blame It on the Bikini
Kaia shrugged, a frown marring her features. "I don't know. I had such a bad date three weeks ago, and I just didn't feel like trying again."
"The guy who keeps texting you?" she asked with concern. "Is that still going on? Do we need to do something to get that to stop? Maybe you should talk to Ben."
"I think he's finally stopped. I haven't heard from him in a couple of days. And the last thing I want to do is talk to my brother about a bad date."
"But Ben's a cop. He could make sure this guy knows who he's messing with."
"I don't need Ben to fight my battles."
Lexie knew Kaia was fiercely proud, and growing up with her dad and two brothers had made her tough. But sometimes pride and toughness weren't enough. "Well, promise me that you'll tell me if you start feeling uncomfortable again, even if you don't want to tell Ben."
"It won't be a problem, Lexie. Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have even mentioned it. And I am moving on tonight with hopefully someone much more interesting."
"What's this doctor like?"
"If we have a good time, I'll tell you more about him tomorrow," she promised.
"You better. And hopefully, tonight will be just what the doctor ordered."
Kaia laughed. "Always the optimist, Lexie."
"It's better than always anticipating the worst."
"True. What about you? What are your plans?"
"I'm going to take off my heels and relax. It was a hellish day."
"For you or the bride?"
"For me. The bride ended up as happy as could be after multiple mishaps that I managed to handle without her knowing."
"Weren't you just there to take pictures?"
"I thought so, but my job seems to encompass a lot more than that. But it's over now. So, I don't want to think about it anymore."
As they got out of the car, she grabbed her equipment from the back seat, then heard Frank's distinctive laugh and another male voice. Moving around the car, she was shocked to see Grayson Holt bent over the engine of Frank's Mustang, his expensive workout clothes replaced by a faded T-shirt and jeans that had definitely seen better days. Oil streaked his forearms, and his usually perfect hair was disheveled. He was holding some kind of tool while Frank pointed at something in the engine compartment, both men completely absorbed in their work.
"Well, that's unexpected," Kaia murmured, following her gaze.
"I'll say. Grayson," she called out, impulsively, too surprised to stop herself.
He jerked upright at the sound of his name, his head connecting solidly with the raised hood of the car. The sharp crack echoed across the parking lot.
"Damn," he muttered, one hand immediately going to his forehead.
"Oh no!" She dropped her camera equipment and rushed over as remorse ran through her. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."
"You should put some ice on that," Frank said, eyeing the rapidly forming bump on Grayson's forehead with concern.
"I'll be fine," Grayson said, his lips drawing into a tight line that was probably a mix of anger and pain.
Kaia stepped up. "I'm a paramedic. Kaia Mercer—we met last night—sort of. Frank's right. You need ice. It's starting to swell."
"I'll do that," he said.
"Do you think he should get it checked?" she asked Kaia. "Maybe he has a concussion."
"I don't think it's that bad," Kaia said.
