Page 12 of The Heartbreak Hotel

Riley’s cheeks flushed, and she turned to hide them. She hadn’t been called cute in a long time, not since she’d stopped entertaining the idea of a relationship on the mainland. It was too much effort, and honestly, she just wasn’t up to it. But it wasn’t like she came to Sandy Springs for the gay scene. Good job, too, as the population was in its hundreds, and calling it slim pickings would be overreaching.

She didn’t even know if Ella was queer—not that it made a difference.

They strolled back along the sand towards the cliff, the sun bathing them in warm light. Riley bent to collect her discarded clothing on the way, feeling a flash of adrenaline as the moment saving Ella replayed in her mind. It had all happened so quickly; it felt like a dream still clinging to her eyelids. She watched Ella in her peripheral vision, amazed by how unfazed she seemed about the ordeal.

“Do you need any assistance?” she asked, when they reached the boulders that led up to the top of the cliff. The climb wasn’t difficult, but Ella had almost drowned earlier, and anyway, she didn’t want to make assumptions about someone’s physical capabilities.

“I think I can manage.”

“I should go behind you.”

Ella raised an eyebrow, and a teasing smile played on her lips.

“In case you fall,” she added.

“Right.”

They ascended slowly, Riley guiding Ella up and telling her the best footholds to use. She tried her best not to stare at the woman’s round bum, but it was difficult when it was shaking in her face—and when her red bikini fit her body shape so well. She focused on the climb instead, and soon, they were at the top.

The wind picked up, a welcoming coolness against Riley’s hot skin. She hurried to her canvas, which was standing on a large stone, and covered it with a sheet before Ella could see it. Some tubes of paint had rolled away across the rocks, so she plucked them up and dropped them into her bag. As much as she loved the birds, they were thieving little shites.

“You paint?” Ella asked, circling the covered easel, intrigued.

“Sometimes.” She dug around until she found a bottle of water in her bag and handed it to her.

“Thank you.” Ella took long gulps, and Riley followed the movement down her delicate throat, watching the muscles in her neck shift. Her skin prickled, and she looked away, tidying up the rest of her equipment.

“What do you paint?” Ella asked.

“Erm, mostly landscapes, occasionally some abstract stuff.”

“Cool. Can I see?”

She scratched at her neck. “I–uh–don’t really… No, I…erm.”

Ella sensed her unease and stepped away from the painting, dropping her hand from the sheet. Riley let out a breath. She’d only shown Marco Marcos because he’d suggested there might be underlying messages that could hold the key to curing her nightmares.

So far, unsuccessful.

“You should sit down for a bit,” she suggested. “Here.” She handed Ella her round meditation cushion.

Ella ran her fingers over the blue and white patterns zigzagging over the handwoven fabric. “This is beautiful. And it’s so soft.”

“Thanks. Gloriana made it herself. You’ll see her at the markets in the week.”

Ella placed it carefully on the rock, glancing at Riley as she hovered over it.

“It won’t bite, I swear.”

“I just don’t wanna ruin it with a giant imprint of my arse.”

Riley’s mouth quirked, and she bit back a laugh. Ella sat down with a happy sigh, and she took a seat beside her on the hard rock surface, feeling the heat transfer through her skin. She closed her eyes, letting her energies settle.

“I feel bad,” Ella murmured, causing Riley to peek at her. “You’re on the ground.”

“I honestly don’t mind.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. Riley let her eyes shut again, tuning into the different sensations. Among the calls of the birds and the heat on her face, she sensed something new and strong pulsing around her. She opened her eyes to find Ella staring. Her pulse skipped a little faster, wondering what she was thinking.