Page 43 of The Heartbreak Hotel

Ella scoffed. “There’s no way I can sit like that. I’ll break my back.”

“You don’t have to sit like me. Just find what works.”

Ella laid on her stomach, moving the canvas in front of her. She could at least work on her tan if nothing else. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Riley chuckled. “I usually sketch the scene first. Just a quick outline for positioning.” Her hand moved across the canvas, black pencil lines marking the white. “Don’t try to paint everything, but pick a focal point and think about what it is you’re trying to capture.”

Ella wished she had the capacity to capture the details in Riley’s expression. The way the tips of her eyebrows raised in concentration. Her lips, and how they puckered as her sharp blue eyes flicked across the landscape and back to the canvas. The flex of her long fingers as she worked, the twitch in her strong forearms, the way her vest clung to her body like it was sculpted to her. Watching her at work drummed something fierce in Ella’s heart, and she found it hard to look away.

Riley looked at her, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “What?”

Oh god. I am ogling her. “Nothing.”

Feeling flushed, she picked the spot in the orange grove where Riley kissed her and worked outwards, drawing the two trees and their outstretching branches. The lines came out messy and wobbly, unlike Riley’s precise, effortless ones.

They moved to painting, starting with the shadows in the scene, like Riley suggested. Ella was a little heavy-handed with her colours, and her attempts to even them out only ended with paint licking up her forearms, much to Riley’s amusement.

In between stealing glances, an ease fell over the two of them as they chatted beneath the afternoon sun, shadows stretching across the grass. Admittedly, Ella’s painting wouldn’t be winning any awards, but time passed quickly, and spending time doing something Riley loved warmed a little space in her chest.

“Are these your favourite clouds?” she asked, dabbing her brush in the white and trying to recreate the soft texture in front of her. “Crickets or something?”

Riley offered a playful smirk. “Cirrus. And no, these look more like cumulus clouds. They’ve got those lovely puffy heads, see?”

“I just see Simon Cowell on a skateboard. Looks like something’s chasing him.”

She cocked her head, squinting up at the sky and biting her lip. “A dog, maybe? Or an angry contestant.”

Their eyes met, and everything around them faded away. Riley’s brush stilled in her hand, and Ella set hers down. She wet her lips, feeling suddenly dry. “Well…I think I’ve finished.”

Riley snapped out of her trance and turned her attention to Ella’s painting. She beamed, her dimples popping. “Hey, it’s good.”

The paint had glooped in parts, and the trees resembled angry monkeys more than the peaceful pull of the orange grove, but Ella appreciated her enthusiasm, nonetheless. She’d actually really enjoyed creating something. She snuck a glance at Riley’s canvas, and her eyes bulged.

“Oh my god, Riley.”

The mix of greens, oranges, peaches, and blues brought the grove to life. Riley had managed to capture the location with realism while giving it a dreamy quality. The hues of the mountains merged into a half-finished blue sky, swirls and dabs giving the canvas texture. How on Earth had she painted that in the same time as Ella?

“Hey, it’s not finished yet.” Riley moved it out of her view, but it was no use, she’d already seen it.

“You’re so talented.” She angled her head to peek back at the canvas. “You could sell that.”

“No one would want to buy this.”

“Yeah, they would.”

Riley’s brush stilled in the paint, and she shook her head, letting her chin drop. Ella moved to catch her face and stroked her thumb over her cheek. A new habit she couldn’t seem to shake. “I’m not joking,” she continued. “You’re really good.”

“I don’t think so.” She peered at her through thick lashes. “It’s just a hobby.”

“It could be more than that if you wanted it to be. If I could paint as well as you do, I’d be living in a millionaire’s mansion right now with fifteen flamingos.”

“Fifteen?” Riley blew out a small breath of laughter, and Ella dropped her hand. “That’s a lot of names to remember.”

“I love how that’s your response and not ‘why do we need fifteen flamingos?’”

Ella hadn’t realised what she’d said until Riley’s gaze warmed her face. “I’m there too in this wee mansion of yours?”

Her heart thundered against her ribcage, and she attempted a playful shrug. “Yeah. Who else is going to massage my feet and pick up all the flamingo poop?”