Our Secret Summer, page 12
It was a lot and quite a few things seemed impossible yet, as always in life, she’d just have to do it. Hardest of all would be to pretend Dylan barely existed in her life, that Dylan was anything more to her than Connor’s mother whom Raffo had spent some time with in Big Bear, but nothing more than that.
“This gives us three days to get our story straight,” Raffo said, watching Dylan’s profile. “When you tell him we were here together, he’ll assume we became friends—it’s the only explanation that makes sense for why I stayed.”
“We’ll just tell him that we got along but we need a break from each other after spending so much time together.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Raffo assumed her relationship with Connor was very different than the one he had with his mother. She and Connor shared information that you didn’t tell a parent, no matter how close you were. She also predicted that Connor would scrutinize her in a very different manner than his mom. With Dylan, he’d need to get over the fact that she lied about her whereabouts for so long first. Raffo, on the other hand, would probably need to answer a fair few questions about Dylan’s state of mind and exactly how worried Connor should be about her.
“Some things we will have to play by ear. We can’t rehearse a few lines and then repeat them to Con verbatim. That’s not going to work.”
Raffo cleared her throat. “Have you ever asked yourself whether it would be easier to just tell him the truth?”
“No.” Dylan’s voice was firm, but she kept staring at the ceiling. “It’s none of his business.”
“It is, though.”
“I get that it’s more difficult for you.” Dylan’s voice softened and she turned on her side. “You’re friends. It’s not the same.”
“Ordinarily, me sleeping with someone new would be huge news.” Raffo tucked a strand of golden hair behind Dylan’s ear. “I was already with Mia when I met Connor. He’s only ever known me with her.”
“I get that you’re worried, but it’s always better to assume things will work out.”
“You’re so philosophical about this. It baffles me sometimes.” Raffo curled an arm around Dylan’s waist, now that she still could.
“In the grand scheme of things, of our lives, this is just a tiny blip. When I look back on this summer, I’d rather remember the amazing time you and I had together than the money I lost or that I couldn’t tell my son about it.”
“Oh, god,” Raffo groaned.
“What?” Dylan painted on one of her sexy half-smiles.
“When you say things like that, I like you even more.” Raffo scooted closer. “And I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
“You’re going to Raffo-Shah the hell out of life.” Dylan pushed her nose into Raffo’s hair. “You have so much to look forward to.”
“I’m a verb now, am I?”
“You’re everything,” Dylan whispered, the words barely audible but striking Raffo’s heart like thunder.
Chapter 23
Three days was nothing. Three last days with Raffo might as well have been three minutes for how quickly they vanished.
After dinner on their final evening together, Dylan wanted to stretch out the night as long as possible, because she didn’t want morning to come. She had a whole life in Los Angeles. She had friends—and a son she had missed the hell out of. She had a house with neighbors who believed she’d been living it up in Europe all this time.
Maybe it was the time pressure they were under or maybe it was the simple fact that Dylan had fallen deeply, hopelessly, and recklessly in love with Raffo. She’d only fully admitted this to herself the day before, when Raffo had revealed the painting of the lake house, and Dylan had felt it so bone-deep, so clearly, it simply could no longer be ignored. She had to ask.
“What if we did tell Connor?” Suddenly, even for Dylan, it was a viable option to be explored.
“What?” Raffo turned away from where she’d been silently gazing into the fire. “Where does that come from all of a sudden?”
“Raffo—I—” But Dylan couldn’t put that kind of pressure on Raffo. This was never supposed to be amorous. It was a summer fling—all the ingredients had been present. She shook her head. “Forget it. It’s crazy.” Though she’d admitted to having feelings weeks ago, Dylan couldn’t confess she’d fallen in love. Raffo’s heart was still raw from Mia, even if her ex’s name had barely crossed her lips this past week. Moreover, Raffo was thirty-two years old and things were happening for her, while Dylan was considering her final professional hurrah before retirement. And Connor would never accept it. What would they even do? Go on dates in LA? Have Sunday brunch with her son? None of it seemed remotely plausible.
“I’m going to miss you,” Raffo said, her voice rough. “So fucking much.” The smallest smile touched her lips. “It’s okay to be sad it’s over. It is sad. But it’s only sad because we had such a great time.”
“Yeah.” Dylan took in Raffo’s face, the gravity of it—and how different it looked to when they were in bed together.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” Raffo asked. “Get a job or sell this place?”
Dylan shook her head. Right now, as they were sitting by this glorious lake, on their last night together, Dylan couldn’t fathom selling her Big Bear house, and all the memories they’d made in it. First, she would tell Connor about losing her savings. Then, she’d try to pick up her life in LA, after which she would try to make a decision.
“Can I ask you something?” Dylan didn’t know how Raffo would react, but she still thought it a fair question for their last night.
“Sure.” Raffo nodded.
“What if as soon as you’re back, Mia comes to see you and claims she made the biggest mistake of her life when she left you.”
Raffo scoffed. “Fuck that.” That, too, was such a Raffo response—economical with words even now. Still, Dylan gave her time to elaborate. Raffo looked into the fire again. “Maybe, one day, I will be able to accept that she fell out of love with me. Rationally, I know that is something that happens to couples all the time. That it can just be over like that. I can forgive her for that but never for how she handled it. For how she treated me.” Raffo shook her head. “It’s not going to happen, anyway, because she doesn’t love me anymore.”
But I do, Dylan thought, the words burning in her chest. I’m so stupidly, crazily in love with you.
When Raffo woke, Dylan was no longer in bed. She groaned as reality washed over her. Dylan was leaving today. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Raffo had suggested it, but now that it was about to happen, she wished she’d never proposed this particular compromise. Because their last night together hadn’t just been sensual and explosive and passionate—it had cracked something open between them, something raw and honest and terrifying.
Raffo would never get the image out of her head of a naked Dylan straddling her underneath the sheet, like some super-sexy ghost who couldn’t get enough of her, with breasts so improbably perfect, Raffo might just have to paint them all over again. Maybe that’s what she would do as soon as Dylan left. Paint her. A full-body work this time—completely naked.
She could already see it in her mind: Dylan stretched out on the lounger, sunlight playing across her skin, those knowing eyes fixed on some distant point across the lake. The painting would capture everything—her strength, her vulnerability, her impossible grace. But Raffo would have to keep it hidden away, like so many other memories of their time together. Another secret to carry home.
“Where are you?” she shouted, because, for one final minute, she wanted Dylan back in bed with her.
“I’m here.” Raffo couldn’t make out where Dylan’s voice was coming from, but she appeared in the room a moment later. “I’ve been awake for a while. Going home jitters. So much to pack.”
“Come here, please.” Raffo opened her arms.
Dylan was already fully dressed in crisp linen pants and a blue blouse that made her eyes look like pieces of sky—maybe that was for the best.
Raffo pulled her into a fierce hug. Because she didn’t know what to say she sighed deeply into Dylan’s soft, sun-streaked hair. They lay like that for long seconds, moments Raffo never wanted to end.
“It’s so hard.” Raffo breathed in Dylan’s familiar scent—expensive moisturizer, coffee, and something uniquely her—trying to memorize it. In a few hours, this would all be just another memory, like the way Dylan looked in the morning light, or how she laughed when Raffo said something unexpectedly funny. All these little details that had become so precious. “Why is it so hard?”
“You probably can’t imagine life without access to my breasts,” Dylan joked, but there was a clear sadness to her tone.
“That must be it.” Raffo held onto Dylan a little tighter. “Why are you Connor’s mother? Why can’t you be someone else?” It wasn’t a rational question. Nothing about this was rational. It was all emotion.
“Why?” Dylan’s voice was muffled because her face was pressed against Raffo’s neck. “Would you ask me on a date in LA if I weren’t his mother? Am I not too old for you?”
Raffo didn’t reply because it was futile, although she didn’t consider Dylan too old for her in the least.
“I will never forget our time in Big Bear. Thank you for everything. For all the meals and the excellent company and the mind-blowing orgasms.” Raffo loosened her embrace a fraction.
“Thank you for the amazing works of art.” Dylan pushed herself up and gazed at Raffo, her eyes all moist. “And for being my third woman.” Dylan swallowed something out of her throat. She swept at her cheek. “Sorry. I’m just, um—you made me feel good about myself again, Raffo. That means so much to me.” Tears streamed down her face. Dylan didn’t bother catching them any longer. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Me too.” The tears that pricked behind Raffo’s eyes soon rolled along her cheeks, onto the sheets of this bed where everything had changed.
They sat still, looking at each other, only the sound of sniffling between them. Then there was nothing left to say, though a thousand words pressed against Raffo’s lips. This was it. It was all over. The vacation. The time-out from life. Their red-hot and strangely restorative affair. Their secret fling in Big Bear and whatever feelings it may have produced. As soon as Dylan’s car rolled off the driveway, it was all over and done with.
Chapter 24
After barely holding it together in bed, Dylan had to get out of there. If she’d stayed any longer, she would have told Raffo how she really felt about her. She would have been in danger of blowing up her life, which was already so torn to pieces.
She glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Big Bear shrink behind her. Each mile seemed like another brick added to the wall she’d have to build between herself and Raffo. The lake house disappeared around a bend, and Dylan’s chest tightened so sharply she had to remind herself to breathe. Everything about the past few weeks—the painting sessions, the late-night conversations, the way Raffo looked at her like she was the most fascinating person in the world—all of it would have to be locked away somewhere deep inside her.
She banged her fist against the steering wheel. Why, of all the billions of people in the world, did she have to fall in love with Raffo Shah? With her son’s best friend?
It was hard to focus on the road, especially after the night they’d had. Dylan didn’t know how it was possible, but it had been a million times hotter than all the nights before combined.
“Are you into anal play?” Raffo had asked, long after midnight—the only appropriate time for a question like that. Dylan hadn’t known what to reply. It was a question she didn’t know the answer to because no one had ever asked her before.
Raffo had devoted a lot of attention to Dylan’s behind by then, her fingers gently skimming the sensitive skin there, but Dylan’d had no way of knowing things were headed in that direction.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Raffo had said, in that matter-of-fact way that really didn’t suit the situation, but made it all the more thrilling. “But if you want the climax of your life, an orgasm to always remember me by, you should give it a try.”
What was Dylan supposed to say to that? She had become a woman who was into anal play there and then. And the real kicker? Not a word of what Raffo had said had been a lie. She’d asked—demanded, really—Dylan to touch herself while she got out the lube and played with her there and, fuck, Dylan could never, ever forget. The sensation was etched sharply into her memory because of its utter ecstasy combined with Raffo’s audacity and the general addictiveness of her personality.
But Dylan had to ban these memories swiftly from her brain. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, remembering how Raffo had whispered encouragement in her ear, how she’d known exactly when to push and when to be gentle. It wasn’t just the physical sensation that had been extraordinary—it was the trust between them, the way Raffo had made her feel completely safe while simultaneously driving her wild. Dylan had never experienced anything like it, that perfect balance of tenderness and raw desire. How was she supposed to forget any of this? But she had no choice. Los Angeles wasn’t far. She’d be reaching the city limits soon. She took a few deep breaths and made the call she’d been dreading for weeks.
She called her son.
It was the middle of the afternoon when Dylan arrived in LA and met Connor at his gallery.
“Oh, Mom.” He wrapped her in his arms, and Dylan felt herself go a little limp against his chest.
“I missed you so much,” Connor said. “I’m all for spiritual journeys but it was too long, even though you came back early.”
“We have to talk, darling,” Dylan said. “I have to tell you something.”
“Did something happen on your trip?” Connor held her at arm’s length. “You look good, Mom. Healthy and strong and, I don’t know—I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me all about that.”
Connor didn’t have a clue—how could he possibly imagine what had really happened in Big Bear?
“Shall we go into your office?” Dylan needed all the privacy she could get for this conversation.
“Sure.” Connor walked them into his office and the first thing Dylan saw was, unmistakably, a Raffo Shah painting. It was one of her earlier works—all bold colors and sharp angles, so different from the softer style she’d developed in Big Bear. Dylan’s throat tightened as she remembered watching Raffo paint, how her whole body would become part of the process, how she’d bite her lower lip in concentration. The memory felt dangerous here in Connor’s office. But Dylan had to keep it together.
Connor poured them both a glass of water and they sat in the lounge chairs by the window. “Tell me everything. I’m absolutely dying to hear about your adventures.”
Here we go, Dylan thought. This confession felt almost easy compared to the secret she’d never be able to share. In the pause before she spoke, Dylan imagined telling Connor about Raffo and her. Would it really be so atrocious? Wasn’t Connor always saying that love is love? But Dylan pulled herself together again.
“Darling, um…” She tried to look at Connor’s face but her gaze skittered away. “There’s no easy way to say this and I should have told you weeks ago, but I… I didn’t go to Europe. I made a bad investment a few months ago and I lost a lot of money. I spent the summer in Big Bear instead.”
“What?” Connor knitted his eyebrows together. “What do you mean? You’re not making any sense, Mom. Are you okay?” He slanted his head. “Raffo’s in Big Bear, anyway. You can’t have been there. I would have heard by now. She tells me everything.” The penny seemed to drop—slowly. A shadow crossed his face. The confusion in his eyes slowly transformed into something darker as the pieces started fitting together. His jaw tightened, and Dylan could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he connected the dots about his mother and his best friend sharing the same space all summer, keeping secrets from him.
“Raffo was there. I asked her not to tell you. Please, Con, don’t be mad at her. Raffo didn’t want to lie, but I begged her to. It’s not her fault.”
“But, um—why wouldn’t you tell me?” He rubbed his chin. “How much money did you lose?” He inhaled sharply. “What on earth is going on here?”
“A year or so ago, I met this guy. He was big into crypto and it piqued my interest. I got involved, did my research—at least I thought I did. I bought a couple of thousand dollars’ worth and it kept on going up and up, so I kept buying more and more. Then, after I’d gone all in, the crypto exchange I used was hacked, losing billions in customer funds. Then the SEC cracked down with strict new regulations, and the coin I’d invested in crashed to nearly zero overnight.”
“That doesn’t sound like you at all, Mom,” Connor said, his voice icily calm.
“I’d just quit my job and was making plans to start a new agency after my trip to Europe. I got carried away because I figured the more seed money I had, the bigger the chances of my new ad agency succeeding. I should have pulled out much earlier. I should have had my ear to the ground more. I was blind to the reality of it and oh-so stupid. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and utterly dumb in all my life. Which is why I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t. I needed some time to process my humongous failure, but I also could no longer afford to go to Europe. I canceled everything, got refunds, and I hid out in the lake house instead.”
Connor didn’t say anything for a while, then he shook his head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“I was ashamed. I hope you can understand that.”
“But you lied to me and then… you made Raffo lie to me. My Raffo. My best friend.” He scoffed. “I can’t believe she went along with it.”
“She didn’t want to, but… that’s all on me. I explained to her why I needed more time and then days turned into weeks and then, a few days ago, you called with the news about the licensing deal and then Raffo really couldn’t take it anymore. She made me come back because she couldn’t lie to you any longer.” Dylan buried her head in her hands—it all sounded so much worse now that she was telling her son. “I’m sorry I made Raffo hide this from you.”
