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Meg lowered her camera and burst out laughing. “West. Did you just call me a beach babe?"
I almost grinned, but held on to my scowl. “I saidchirpybeach babe, Daniels. Don't let it go to your head."
"Wow, what a compliment. I hope you didn’t strain anything coming up with that one.” She snorted, mirroring my scowl as she lifted the camera to snap another shot, but I caught the smile tugging at her lips.
As she leaned in to help direct my stance, the faint scent of coconut sunscreen mingled with her shampoo enveloped me and I was transported back to high school, just like that.
Shifting on my feet, I averted my gaze from her bare skin, glistening with some kind of shimmer lotion.
Damn.Focusing on the photoshoot was proving really effin’ difficult with her proximity.
"There, much better. You almost look human now.”
I slanted her a wry glance at the backhanded praise, which only made her grin widen. Her brown eyes glinted gold in the bright sunlight when she tipped her face up at me. I noticed flecks of amber and copper scattered through the irises.
"Now try to relax your expression a bit. Half the town probably thinks you're incapable of smiling."
I clenched my jaw instinctively. "Does this look like the face of a smiler to you?"
Meg chuckled, glancing down and fiddling with her camera settings. “Don’t worry, we'll get there, West. Just think of something that makes you happy."
"Excel spreadsheets. Avoiding people. Not taking photos––”
"Har har. Okay, bad idea. How about this... "
She proceeded to make the most ridiculous faces I’d ever seen her make - puffing out her cheeks, crossing her eyes, waggling her tongue - until I caved and busted into a begrudging laugh. Meg's entire face lit up, her eyes crinkling at the corners with her smile as she lifted her camera, moving around me to catch different angles. I could hear the faintsnick, snick, snickas she snapped shot after shot.
“There it is! That wasn't so hard was it?"
Laughter trailing off, I cleared my throat, shrugging. "Don't get used to it. I have a reputation to uphold."
"As the world's grouchiest Grinch, I know."
I tried to shoot her another glare but couldn't keep a straight face and gave up. We soon fell into an easy creative flow, volleying lighthearted jabs at each other as Meg adjusted settings and angles with obvious enthusiasm. Her passion for capturing the perfect shot was contagious. I found myself gradually relaxing into the process.
As the golden hour light gradually blanketed the beach, I exchanged my tee for a tank at Meg's prompting. She asked me to bring it because she wanted me to "show off those CEO guns,” as she so crassly phrased it. Even tried coaxing me into doing some shirtless poses, but I killed that plan with a look. Meg gave an exaggerated catcall as I tossed the tee aside, which I chose to take as a compliment.
"Work it, baby! I bet we can get the local tabloids fighting over some exclusive beefcake photos of Ryker West," Meg joked.
I glanced down with an unfamiliar a twinge of self-consciousness, wondering if she really still thought I was attractive. We weren’t teenagers anymore, not by along shot.
Sure, I was lean and tan, thanks to a daily running regime up the beach, and regular Jujitsu. But I was also older, with some silver in my hair, some lines on my face. I never gave a thought to my looks because I never had complaints. Besides, there was no one whose opinion held weight anyway.
But this woman––this woman’s opinion mattered. "Let's not get carried away,” I grumbled, tugging the tank over my head and casting her a look of disdain mixed with discomfort. She erupted in a peal of laughter when she noticed my expression.
“I’m kidding, West. Really. I wouldn’t do that to you, but c’mon. Don’t act like you don’t know you’re a photographer’s dream.” She gave me a lazy once over, and my blood heated. I lifted a brow and she just grinned. “Now… gaze thoughtfully into the distance like you're unraveling the secrets of the universe.”
I shook my head but played along, settling into my best thoughtful model mode and trying my damndest to give her some less uptight poses.
After reviewing a few of the shots, Meg nodded once, then handed me the camera. “Ok, you’re turn. You get to play photographer for awhile. Let's get some pics foryourportfolio."
She winked.
My mouth went dry as she let her hair down and began striking playful poses, radiant and carefree. The camera suddenly felt bulky and cumbersome in my hands. I fumbled with the settings, trying to match the easy artistry Meg displayed.
"Relax, you're doing great," she encouraged. "Just aim for natural and follow your instincts.”
Eventually I found my flow, emboldened by the unselfconscious confidence Meg exuded in front of the lens. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, we took turns as model and photographer.
