Chapter Nine
Ella
Ella woke from her nap covered in sweat. The AC was blowing cold air through the room, but her mind couldn’t peel away the dream fogging her senses. Riley’s touch lingered on her skin, the imaginary sensation of her lips on Ella’s. Her tongue…and how good it felt sliding between her legs.
Ella’s hand dipped into her pyjama shorts. Yep. She was incredibly wet.
With a sleepy sigh, she brushed over herself, the images fresh in her brain. Her dream might not have been real, but the way Riley had caressed her shoulders and chest earlier was. Her touch was somehow firm and soft at the same time. Meaningful.
Her clit ached thinking about Riley’s strong hands.
Would she fuck me the same way?
God . Ella felt herself get wetter. She heard it as her own fingers quickened their movement, and she kicked the blanket off her legs.
Warmth rippled outwards, tension building in her muscles. Her libido had finally sprung from its hiding place and now demanded her full attention.
She’d been in a tangle over whether Riley was attracted to her or not, but the woman’s flushed face and adorable awkwardness had confirmed it. If Ella hadn’t been knocked off her game from the Maeve incident, she might’ve kissed her there and then.
Riley was attracted to her, and that gave Ella a boost she desperately needed. Self-care had multiple forms, after all.
The dream kisses filled her mind again, but it was like having an itch that she couldn’t quite reach. Ella didn’t want to indulge in the fantasy; she wanted the real deal.
But for now, this would have to do.
She closed her eyes, picturing Riley’s face as she rubbed circles over herself. The backdrop of Riley’s cabin fleshed out her imagination as dream Riley pushed her back on her bed. There was no need for longwinded undressing here. Ella wanted it hard and fast, so that’s what dream Riley gave her. Her tall and muscular frame leaned over her, her fingers exactly where Ella craved them. It wasn’t long before the fuzzy feeling tightened in her chest, and her orgasm mounted. Her breathing was laboured as she hovered above release.
The one thing she couldn’t get right was the sound Riley made. Would she moan or whimper? Groan? Would she talk dirty? Tell Ella what she wanted? Fuck. She’d like that. The thought almost made her combust.
“Riley,” Ella murmured, and the sound sent shockwaves through her body. Riley’s face became focused, fresh in her mind. She could see the slight widening of her eyes. The dimples in her cheeks. She said her name again, louder, meaning it as she brought herself to climax, and she tipped over the edge. She came hard, abs contracting and forcing her upright as the feeling consumed her.
The climax faded quicker than she’d have liked, but it still hit a spot. It’d been some time. She let out a chuckle as the dreamy fog lingered in her brain. Riley, she echoed in her head.
Maybe Winnie was right. A good shag was just what she needed.
* * *
Admittedly, the island’s uncertainties made Ella nervous. She couldn’t speak the language and imagined her feeble attempts resulting in finger-pointing and the locals’ uncontrollable laughter.
But Senhor Arenoso’s words breezed through her mind. “ You hold the keys to your own life .”
So, with her phone smashed and the idea of hiding in her room alone more embarrassing than being an English stereotype, she decided to push herself. With a new pep in her step, she ventured down to the courtyard, freshly showered and wearing a yellow sundress that brushed against her calves. Her skin still felt tight from sunburn, but Riley’s aloe vera had eased the pain a little.
She heard the market before she saw it. Voices and chatter carried up from the courtyard in lively Portuguese. Rows of wooden stalls covered the stone slabs, and what must’ve been the entire island’s population was milling between them, browsing homemade crafts and textiles displayed underneath large beige parasols.
Food carts served fresh seafood rice, grilled bacalhau with garlic, crispy cod balls, and roasted octopus, all caught off the island. Senhor Arenoso had spoken about the ebbs and flows of the wildlife, and ensuring a healthy balance between conservation and human cuisine. Ella inhaled deeply, the mix of garlic and seafood making her stomach rumble.
The stalls overflowed with fruits and vegetables of all colours. Nuts, rice, olives, and more beans than Ella knew existed. A friendly man greeted her as she browsed the fruit, and she replied with a shy “ boa tarde ”, her gaze roaming over large oranges, melons, apples, and cherries. She bought a bag of juicy plums to snack on in her room, then followed a sweet, sugary scent to the next stall. There were people gathered around it, calling out their orders in Portuguese. When she reached the front, Ella understood why it was so popular. Fresh bread, cakes, and traditional sweets filled the shelves, and she practically drooled at the sight of doughnuts, sweet lemon farturas , and creamy Portuguese tarts with flaky pastry and sugared tops. Ella bought two tarts, hoping to gift one to Riley after her surfing class.
She smiled to herself as she pocketed her change; she couldn’t help it. Was it wrong to chase the good feeling? The combination of her best friend’s support, an afternoon nap, and a decent orgasm pointed towards the no.
She and Riley were both just human… Why not have a little fun?
That had been the initial goal of this holiday, anyway.
After circling every stall, admiring a collection of beautiful ceramics, hand-painted homewares, and patterned tiles, Ella concluded there was definitely no alcohol on sale. Shame. A nice glass of white would go down a treat right now.
She picked up a cork “I heart Portugal” keyring for Winnie, considered buying a gorgeous purple-and-white handwoven rug but decided it wouldn’t fit in her suitcase, then headed back along the path to her cabin.
The sun was hiding behind the clouds, giving her a welcome respite from the heat. She didn’t want to jinx it…but things were looking up. She even dared to say she felt happy. Her work worries seemed far away as she took a bite from the plump plum in her hand, savouring the fresh juices.
She wondered when Riley finished work—or if Riley even thought of it as that. Knowing her, she probably had some hippie philosophy that categorised it under a different name.
Ella wanted to see her again, but would turning up at her cabin be weird? She’d been off the dating scene a while, but even she knew the idea came off a little creepy. She could always ask her after their yoga session in the morning. She wanted to stay clear of any game-playing. She only had limited time on the island, better not waste any more.
She dug into her bag for her key, but as she got to the top of the hill, she found her door already ajar and twitching in the breeze.
A chill ran down her spine. Had somebody broken in?
She edged the door open with her toe. Her suitcase was spread wide, her clothes scattered across the floor in a mess. She wanted to say she’d been ransacked, but actually, this was how she’d left her room.
A strange noise came from inside. That sounded quite like—
She rounded the corner and halted.
A…goat.
There was a goat in her bed. And worse, it had her big, comfy underwear in its mouth. The ugly kind that wasn’t supposed to be seen by anyone and was reserved for days with cramps or bloated bellies.
The brown goat barely looked up when Ella entered, and that offended her a little. “Uh. Excuse me. Those are mine.” She edged forward, and the goat’s yellow eyes snapped to her. Oh god. Do these things charge? She swallowed. “Look. Just give me my knickers back and there’s no hard feelings, alright?”
She tiptoed closer, the pungent smell of urine and dirt hitting her senses. Had it relieved itself somewhere in here? She glanced around the room but couldn’t see anything obvious. Unfortunately, the goat took the small distraction by the horns and leaped off the bed, skidding across the floor and out the door—with Ella’s big knickers in its mouth.
“Hey!” She sprinted after it, catching sight of its brown rear end as it dipped over the hill and headed towards the courtyard.
No, no, no!
She ran in pursuit, her sandals kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. As she descended the hill, she was met with a raucous sound. A mix of screams, shouts, and bleats. What the hell is going on?
What was once a peaceful market now resembled a manic petting zoo. Goats ransacked the fruit and veg stalls, running around with broccoli and potatoes in their mouths, being chased by angry people. The stall-holders’ efforts were futile, as the goats jumped on top of the displays, crashing them to the ground.
Ella spotted her goat wielding her underwear like a flag and followed it further into the chaos. The stench of urine intensified, mixed with an assault of seafood, garlic, and a smell that could only be identified as goat. Someone screamed to her right, and Ella looked just in time to see a goat rip a pineapple from Pauline’s hands and scamper off.
An elderly man cornered one of the animals, but it leaped on top of a table and pushed off a bag of flour, sending a cloud of white into the air. When the mist descended, Riley appeared at the top of the steps, her eyes wide as she took in the crazy scene. Her gaze met Ella’s, and she ran over to her, her long hair wet and slicked back over her shoulders.
“What happened here?” she asked, shouting over the noise.
“I’ve no idea. I was just…” Ella spotted the goat trotting past, still chewing on her underwear. “Minding my own business.”
Riley shook her head. “This has got Romeo’s name written all over it.”
“What do we do?”
“We need to herd them somehow, but everything is too manic. There are goats everywhere.”
Ella combed the scene, thinking of something to use. “I’ve got an idea. You ring the yoga gong and get everyone to meet at the yoga cubbies.”
“I don’t think breathing exercises are going to calm the goats.”
Ella nudged her in the ribs. “Not for bloody breathing exercises. Just do it and meet me there.”
Riley sounded the gong, gathered the locals’ attention, and then instructed everybody over to Ella. The locals resisted, looking on at the destruction the goats had caused in horror. They muttered in Portuguese, giving Ella uncertain looks.
“You’ll have to translate for me,” Ella said to Riley, then cleared her throat. “Okay, everyone. Grab a yoga mat, and let’s round these goats up. We’ve got to work together to form barriers, and then we can guide the goats back to their pen.”
The people looked on while Riley translated, and understanding dawned on their faces. A few gave Ella nods of approval, but she was trying not to melt at Riley speaking in Portuguese. Is there anything this woman can’t do?
Ella and Riley handed out yoga mats from the cubbies, and they started organising themselves into groups to pin the goats into one place. Thankfully, apart from one particularly naughty goat that could ascend the walls, the mats held strong. With a quiet focus descending on the group, and a dedicated team sent to rescue the escapee from the roof, the goats were rounded into submission and guided back up the path to their pen through the wide-open gate.
Once the last goat was inside, everyone cheered, offering Ella hugs and kisses on the cheek. Under usual circumstances, Ella would rather eat rusty nails than touch a stranger, but their genuine appreciation for her struck a chord, lighting a small flame in her chest.
They headed back to the courtyard to start the clean-up, but Riley lingered at the back, a huge grin on her face.
“Well done,” she said, securing the lock on the gate and giving it a tug. “That was a clever idea.”
“Thank you.” The praise fanned the glow in Ella’s centre, but she tried to brush it off. “The free-thinking voodoo of the course must be rubbing off on me.”
Riley chuckled, glancing down at her feet. “Then Senhor Arenoso will be pleased.”
“And you?”
“Me too.”
Their eyes locked, and the air around them buzzed. Ella could almost sense Riley’s hands on her back, feel the dusting of breath at her neck. She wanted more.
“I want to thank you again for yesterday. I really appreciated making a phone call.” She swallowed. “And the aloe vera.”
“You’re welcome.” A blush coated Riley’s cheeks, but she wouldn’t look at her. Instead, she cast her attention to the courtyard behind them. An unsettling feeling gripped Ella’s insides. Being around Riley was like riding a loop-the-loop rollercoaster; she never knew which way was up.
“Shall we go help clean up?” Ella asked.
Riley looked over the fence at the goats grazing the pasture like they hadn’t just wreaked havoc on Sandy Springs. “Oh…uh, I think you’ve done your part. There’s no need for that.”
The comment stung, dropping Ella back to Earth abruptly. “Don’t you want me there or something?”
“Ella…” Riley scratched at the back of her neck, and the sinking feeling enveloped Ella’s whole body. “I just… You… There’s no easy way to say this—”
“Here we go.” Bile crept up her throat. This might be a new record for Ella rejection. What would the reason be this time? Too loud, too fat, too emotional, too much? How had she got this so wrong?
“It’s not like that,” Riley said, but she still wouldn’t look at her, and that made anger twist in her gut.
“Riley, if you’ve got something to say, just say it. I’m a big girl. I can take it.” Ella gritted her teeth. She didn’t really want to have this conversation now, to shoot the possibility of exploring her relationship with Riley in the foot, but the feeling steered her, and the words tumbled out. “Why are you fighting this? I know you feel something here.” She took a step towards her. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
The goats bleated in the background. Riley shuffled her feet.
“Ella, I just…can’t.” Her gaze finally met Ella’s, and the sadness there struck her. “I can’t do this with you.”
The rejection stung, slapping Ella across the face and pouring salt in old wounds. Tears threatened her eyes, and she suddenly felt very, very stupid. How many times was she going to put herself in this position? Just to get torn down by a beautiful woman?
“Tell me I’m wrong,” she said again, a quiver in her voice. When she was met with silence, she scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re a coward, Riley.”
And she spun on her heels, putting as much distance between them as possible. Horrible, ugly sobs crept up her throat, but she held them in until she was out of sight.
No more women. Ella vowed never to let someone hurt her like this again. This was stupid, so stupid.
She cursed, realising that everything people said about her was right.
She was stuck. She had no purpose. She was looking for a quick fix. Something to make her feel better and to stick a plaster over the problems. But all that meant was the next time it was ripped off, it stung twice as badly, pulling off all the ugly scabs.
Her feet moved quicker, taking her further away from Sandy Springs and up the hillside. She didn’t know where she was going, but she didn’t care. Sweat beaded her forehead and ran down her neck, but she pushed on, until her feet ached and her lungs struggled to breathe.
Winnie had said a good shag might sort Ella out, but she realised she didn’t want that. She didn’t want a rebound. She wanted something that would last, like what Maeve and Annabelle had.
God. Now I’m jealous of them?
She admitted the truth. She longed to find someone who wanted her for who she was. Not a condensed version of herself—a quieter, thinner, smarter Ella 2.0—but an Ella who was intrinsically Ella. With all her loudness and flaws and imperfections.
Ella didn’t need to fly all the way to Portugal to be rejected again. She could’ve easily done that back home. She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand.
You need to break the cycle.
She heard Senhor Arenoso in her head and cursed, shouting to the wind. It frustrated her because he was right. If nothing changed, then this was going to be her life. Ella didn’t want that.
She needed to focus on herself.
That hit her brain like a skimming stone, reverberating outwards.
I need to focus on myself.
This whole time, she’d been chasing something she thought would make her happy. Getting back with Maeve. Sleeping with Riley. The easy fix. A dopamine hit that would ultimately leave her feeling shitty. She couldn’t do that anymore. She needed to put herself first.
A new sense of energy rushed through her. Her world of possibilities was blown wide open.
Ella could do anything she wanted to do, and she knew exactly where to start.
* * *
Pauline was right—the ruins were stunning. Ella ran her hands over the cool, crumbling stone and let out a sigh. She didn’t know how long it’d taken her to get here—she had no watch and no phone now that it’d been smashed to pieces—but judging by the sun’s position in the sky, hours had passed.
Huge overgrown bushes sprouted colourful flowers around the ruins, nature finding its way back through the cracks in the masonry. She made a mental note to ask Pauline about the history here; she’d not been listening to her before and probably owed her an apology.
A profound sense of calm descended on her as she walked through the ankle-length grass and looked out over the cliff edge. Dark clouds gathered above, but that feeling of foreboding never came. It felt as though each wave lulling against the shore far below was reaching out to her, coating her in a calm she’d never felt before.
She hadn’t meant to snap at Riley, or call her a coward, but she’d hated the feeling of her pulling away, and she hadn’t been able to stop herself. Still, she shouldn’t have done it. She knew better than anyone how mixing work and pleasure brought many complications, after all.
After a few more minutes of watching the waves, she started her journey home.
Luckily, the worn path had been easy to spot on the way up, and the castle’s towers poking out from the trees had acted as a good guide. Ella could do the same with Sandy Springs on the way down and use the village as a guide. She followed the path as it wound down and around the hillside but stopped dead in her tracks when it disappeared into a body of water.
Weird. I’m sure it was this way.
She spun around, looking for another option, but the lone path that joined the two hills was now hidden by the tide.
Shit.
The water lapped at the earth around her. Was it still rising? She retreated up the path and concluded, after a few minutes of watching, that, yes, it was.
A prick of fear crept up her spine.
Not ideal. But she could make it work. Her tree-climbing skills were proving to be competitive—as long as she didn’t drop anything—but having no water or food might be a bit worrisome.
Her belly rumbled on cue. With all the goat—and then Riley—palaver, she’d missed dinner.
Her hopes sank along with the light in the sky as the tiniest of raindrops landed on her skin. Were there wolves in Portugal? She couldn’t remember. It would be quite the tragedy to finally rediscover her mojo and then be eaten alive by a rabid pack.
She supposed she’d find out; she was going to be stuck here all night.