Always, Ella

by Sofia Sawyer

  “What’s wrong, doll?” Natalie asked, plopping next to her on a plush chaise lounge, making herself right at home at the posh Dewbury spa.

  Maritza fiddled with the tie on her robe as she sunk further in the cloud-like material, making her seem even smaller than her already petite frame. “Max and I are still kinda newish to dating. We’ve been together for like six months, but we haven’t like slept together or whatever.”

  Ana handed her a cup of hibiscus tea and sat on the other side of her. “At your age, I would have been all over that. He’s a cutie. What’s stopping you?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “You’re what? Early thirties? When you hit my age, then you can say things like, ‘When I was your age.’”

  Maritza tried to smile, but her eyes were still filled with worry. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that we haven’t had the right moment yet. We both work at the same hospital⁠—that’s how we met. But as a nurse, my schedule can be all over the place. He’s an EMT, so it’s not much better. There have been some weeks where we literally only saw each other in the hospital cafeteria. Not quite a romantic place for dinner.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I get that,” Ana said. “Zach and I are very career-driven, and both work long hours. We’ve had some lulls in our sex-life, too, because of it. But it ebbs and flows, you know? That’s just how it goes in long-term relationships.”

  As a VP of marketing, Ana Yu was a force to be reckoned with. Elena had read about her career path and watched her TED Talks. She was small but mighty. Her boyfriend also had an impressive career, selling an app in his twenties that made a pretty penny. Now, he consulted on a number of impressive projects.

  Both had come on this show with the idea of it being a vacation, something neither of them had taken in some time. They came with open minds, hoping to reconnect after a year of nonstop work.

  Elena perched herself on the end of Maritza’s chaise, nodding in agreement. There had definitely been times where she and Brad had gone through lulls of no sex.

  She frowned. Maybe it was because he didn’t need her since he was getting it from other women. Elena looked at Maritza’s hopeful, confused face and decided to keep that little tidbit to herself. Not every man was a Brad, she needed to remember that.

  Natalie took a sip of her tea and relaxed on the lounger as if she were sunning by a pool. “Honey, this is the prime time in your relationship. You should be having fun with it. And, more importantly, confirming that he’s the right guy. You’re too young to be wasting months of your precious life on a guy who isn’t right for you.” She raised her eyebrows. “Or might suck in the sack,” she added. “Love is important, but so is chemistry.”

  She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice. Natalie and Hari had met two years ago on a dating site and had fallen fast and hard. But they were at a crossroads in their relationship. Natalie, a woman in her forties, was ready to settle down and get married now that she found a nice guy. But Hari, once divorced, was against the idea of marriage, arguing that they could be in a committed relationship without the legality of it.

  They came on this show to remember why they were together and determine if they could work together, compromise, or figure out if the issue they were facing was a deal-breaker.

  “It’s just that we haven’t gotten to that point in our relationship yet,” Maritza explained. “I don’t want to take it to the next level in this setting.” She eyed the cameraman in the corner. “With all these eyes on us,” she whispered despite there being a mic on her robe to capture every word.

  Elena rubbed comforting circles on Maritza’s back. “If you aren’t ready or comfortable for this sensual massage, that’s okay. Don’t feel like you’re going to be forced into something just because it’s on the agenda. There are plenty of other ways to build trust and intimacy that doesn’t require you to strip down.”

  Elena gulped, realizing she was about to do that with Jackson. After the stunt she pulled last night at the yoga studio, she was a little worried about his payback.

  “Like what?” Maritza asked.

  “Maybe it’s a nice foot, hand, or shoulder massage. You can still work on making each other feel good, but it doesn’t have that pressure of the full massage. You can learn some techniques here for if and when you’re comfortable enough to get to that level. But for now, do what works best for you. And more importantly, be honest with Max. I’m sure he’ll understand where you’re coming from. You want it to be special because it’s what you’re ready for, not because it’s for a show.”

  “Exactly. You’re so smart, Ella. I’m so glad I got to meet you. You’re so good at this.”

  For a second, Elena felt like she truly was Ella, the writer people had come to trust. Being here with these couples and coaching them through their challenges felt natural. And seeing how she was helping them in real-time was the most satisfying thing she’d experienced.

  More importantly, she didn’t feel like a fraud. She listened, watched, and then provided honest suggestions. Some based on her own experiences, much like the advice she gave Maritza. How many times had she felt like she had been pushed into situations she wasn’t ready for? Sure, stepping out of your comfort zone helps you grow⁠—just like she was doing now with the book and the show⁠—but there were plenty of situations over the years that hadn’t served her. Martiza was young, sweet, and had a good heart. She didn’t want her to feel pressured into something that wasn’t right for her.

  How was it that being thrust into this crazy show had her feeling more like herself? She’d thought being surrounded by strangers, and the constant cameras in her face would only amplify the fact that she was an imposter, but instead, she felt the opposite.

  Because of Jackson.

  Oh no. She wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. But if she were to nudge at it with a fifteen-foot pole instead, she could at least admit she was having fun with him. He challenged her in a way that made her forget her anxieties and had her laughing more often than not. She almost forgot how his easy-going nature had a calming effect and how infectious his humor was. It brought back a ton of great memories from when they were kids, before their relationship went south.

  It was nice, and for a fleeting moment, she tried to imagine life with a guy like Jackson. He was a far cry from the Brad-types she’d dated through her twenties, but maybe that was the point. Clearly, they were all wrong. Maybe she needed to reevaluate the type of guy who would treat her right.

  She shook her head. That’s as far as she’d go with those thoughts. He may be in town for longer than normal, but he was bound to leave again for one of his many trips around the world. She shouldn’t entertain any thoughts of exploring whatever it was between them if there even was anything. Plus, she wouldn’t do that to Mae. It goes without saying that a best friend’s siblings are strictly off-limits.

  Elena sighed and sank into her seat. That damn smile. Just thinking about that slow grin and his sparkling blue eyes that seemed to only focus on her⁠—like she was the only thing worth looking at⁠—made her go all warm inside. He definitely had the loving boyfriend role down pat, maybe even better than she had envisioned it.

  “Ladies, we’re ready for you,” a woman from the spa said in a soft, soothing voice.

  The women followed the spa attendant to their respective rooms, where Max, Zach, and Hari were waiting for them. Lastly, she led Elena to her and Jackson’s room.

  Elena tried to breathe, reminding herself that nothing would happen between them. It was just a massage. It’s not like she jumped her masseuse every time she got a rub down. She needed to think of Jackson in the same way. That’s all.

  When she entered the room, Jackson stood and shot her the young Marlon Brando-esque smile. Toe-curling. Delicious. Sexy.

  Good God, so sexy.

  Heat formed low in her belly. That wasn’t a reaction she’d typically had with Jackson.

  It’s because of the setting. Naked skin. Ro
mance. That’s it. You do not have feelings for Jackson St. Julien. He’s Mae’s brother for Christ’s sake.

  “Hello, Miss Ella,” the masseuse greeted. “I’m Beatrice. I’ll be working with you today to show you the techniques for a sensual massage with your lovely boyfriend here.” Jackson turned his smile Beatrice’s way, making her giggle.

  Such a charmer. Which was a perfect reminder that the heart-stopping smile he just gave Elena was a dime a dozen. It wasn’t special for her.

  “With sensual massages, it’s all about creating a mood. That includes not just the massage itself but the atmosphere, visuals, and so on.” She pointed around the room. “Here, we’ve set the lighting to be soft and inviting. The aromatherapy candles we’ve chosen are scents that stimulate your desire. The music is meant to relax.”

  Elena gulped.

  “Miss Ella, if you’d take a moment to get under the blankets here. I’ll be showing Jackson how to use some of the techniques.”

  For the next fifteen minutes or so, Beatrice showed Jackson and Elena the tips and tricks on how to offer a relaxing, sexy massage that would feel good for both partners.

  “Any questions?” she asked. Both of them shook their heads. “Very good. I will leave you to it then. Miss Ella, since you’re already on the table, it would be best to start with you.”

  “Is the camera crew coming in?”

  “No.” She handed Jackson a remote. “We have several cameras hidden in the room to give you a certain amount of privacy. Of course, we know many couples prefer to get massaged in the nude, so you need to use this call button to let the crew know when to turn the cameras on and off. For example, when you’re switching out. Or for other things…” she added suggestively.

  “I see,” was all Jackson could muster, the sound of his swallow audible from where Elena was resting.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you. There will be a soft ding that sounds when it’s time for you to switch.” With that, Beatrice closed the door gently behind her, leaving them alone.

  The tension in the air was thick. “Are you ready for this?” Jackson asked, his voice low and deep.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. And don’t you peek when I’m switching positions,” she half-teased with a shaky voice, trying to ease the awkwardness between them. But nothing would change the super-charged room.

  “Okay. I’m going to turn on the cameras.”

  “Okay.”

  “Alright,” he said again, his uncomfortableness apparent. “I’m going to put the oil on your skin and start.”

  Elena signed. “Jackson, I don’t need a play by play. Just do what you’ve gotta do.”

  He let out a low laugh. “Do you trust me?”

  “I trust you enough.”

  She heard him rubbing his hands together, the sound of wet slickness on his skin, the anticipation of it made her nerves fire off. His fingers grazed her shoulders tentatively, followed by a sweeping of his palms along her back. She exhaled, breathing out the tension she had held onto waiting for this moment.

  His hands moved over her back, his thumbs moving down the center near her spine, the rest of his fingers grazing along her sides. He kneaded her shoulders, putting pressure on the knots residing there, helping release them.

  Jackson let out a slow, unsteady breath as his hands moved down her arms to her hands. His thumbs pushed into her palms, his fingers then entwining with hers to help stretch her wrists. Her body reacted, gripping his hand for a moment to hold him there. That simple movement made time stand still.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. He made no motion to release himself from her grip.

  “I’m...I’m okay.” She reluctantly let his hand go.

  His hands continued to slide along her body, moving to her hips, taking extra care to work his thumbs into her lower back, easing the pain she held there from long days sitting at work. His fingers lingered just above the swell of her ass, a tease to her. His breath and the steady way he moved with the perfect pressure stirred something in her.

  For as nervous as she was to be in this situation with him, for exposing her body in a vulnerable way, she couldn't stop herself from praying his hands would dip lower. Her breathing became more labored as he slid the sheet over just slightly, so he had access to her legs. His hands roamed up her calf and thigh, working all sides.

  So close to the place between her legs that was now wide awake and wanting.

  Elena let out an involuntary moan, the pleasure of his hands overwhelming her.

  He stilled and tensed.

  “Elena,” he breathed, his fingers moving further up her leg. He paused as if debating how much higher he wanted to go.

  Soft music played, telling them it was time to switch.

  She wanted to kill someone.

  He pressed the button to turn off the cameras and turned his back while she slipped into her robe. She wobbled from lightheadedness as she stood, partly from relaxation and partly from the intense desire Jackson had instilled in her.

  He knew just how to touch her. Where to touch her to make her go insane. Would he be that perceptive in other areas? In other situations?

  She turned to him, finding his blue gaze gleaming in the flickering candlelight. With a closer look, she noticed his hooded eyes were dilated. His chest rose and fell heavily as if trying to catch his breath.

  Jackson’s Brando smile suddenly seemed shy. “Mind turning around so I can get under?”

  She nodded wordlessly and turned away to give him privacy. A moment later, Jackson gave the okay, letting her know she could turn the cameras back on.

  Elena’s hands shook with anticipation as she squeezed the oil into her palms and placed them on his broad back. She had seen Jackson shirtless before⁠—it was hard not to with him being a beach bum. But something about seeing it up close and actually touching it was different.

  She ran her hands along the muscles of his shoulders and upper back, perfectly formed from years of paddling on his board. They were corded and thick. And manly. And hot.

  Using her weight, she pushed into the hard, sinewy muscles, working out his tight areas. A soft groan escaped him as she rubbed her elbow in one particularly tough spot, the noise almost had her melting right there.

  His hand that dangled off the side of the table grazed her leg. Her heart jumped into her throat as she wondered if it had been intentional or an accident.

  Electricity crackled between them. Her emotions were on high alert. It wasn’t like her to react to a man like this, especially not Jackson, but the feeling of his hands on her body had wound her up in ways she’d never been before. There was a dull throb between her legs, and she had half a mind to climb on top of him and take care of it.

  Thank God for the cameras. She might have followed through on that insane thought had they not been there to act as a reality check.

  “You’re good at this, you know,” he commented as she ran her hands down his tricep, now adorned with more tattoos than she’d remembered. The ink curled down to mid-forearm, full of intricate, colorful designs.

  “What happened to your back?” she asked as her fingertips traced a scar slashed across his side.

  “I wiped out while surfing in Belize and got pummeled by the waves. There were some shallow reefs in the area. Unfortunately, I hit one when the waves pushed me under.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Hurt like a bitch. But it gave me a new idea.”

  “Hmm?” she mumbled as she worked his palm, loving the feel his large hand and strong fingers.

  “Creating a new product for my surfing line and donating the proceeds to protect the coral reef.”

  She paused, her lips tugging up into a grin. “Leave it to you to want to save the thing that sliced and scarred you. You must really love what you do. I mean, you’d have to in order to be a nomad all these years.”

  “I do. Honestly.”

  As he let out a sigh, she continued the massage. Her hands moved over the roundness of his
shoulders and glided along the defined muscles of his upper back.

  Elena couldn’t help but admire him. Over the years, she had heard how his parents had been disappointed he’d skipped out on college and went this unstable path instead of following in his father’s footsteps.

  For some time, their words had tainted her view on him. Elena and Jackson had already had a strained relationship during their late high-school and college years. When he disappeared for parts unknown, it was hard to see him as anything but the man she remembered⁠—the guy who constantly picked on her during her vulnerable moments⁠—and what his dad had said.

  Foolish. Unreliable. Flaky. Unrealistic.

  She cringed. None of those words were right when it came to describing him. Maybe back then, but definitely not the man she was getting to know now.

  After spending these last few days with Jackson, she wondered if maybe they’d had him all wrong. That she’d had him all wrong. He hadn’t been home enough these last few years for her to hear what he’d been up to or to see the kind of man he’d grown into. Sure, Mae had bragged about his mission to support surfers and the environment, and how he tried to make his sustainable products more accessible. But Elena hadn’t really wanted to hear it. Truthfully, she had tuned out most things said about Jackson over the years because she’d been so frustrated by how he’d treated her.

  Elena had assumed he’d never grow out of his childish behavior. Yet, in spending more time with him, she realized just how much he had changed.

  Gone was that flaky guy. He’d shown up for her. In her gut, she felt she could depend on him to see this through.

  He’d gone above and beyond to save her from the mess she’d gotten herself into. He was striving to make a better world, and he cared enough to support her even when he didn’t have to.

  And damn if that didn’t hit her straight in the heart.

  11

  Jackson

  Jackson had never been more relieved and frustrated than when the soft music played, telling them their massage session was over. Somehow, the thick fabric of the robe had managed to cover his hard-on, one he could thank Elena for.