Page 28 of Our Secret Summer

“I can already guess what you want to do to seal this new deal.” Raffo smiled, her tilted head and half-lidded eyes pure seduction.

“Me?” Dylan scooted closer, their legs now completely intertwined under the water. “Let’s not point fingers. Let’s use them for far better things.” A frisson of lust ran up Dylan’s spine.

“I’d like to create a painting of your house next,” Raffo said, again taking Dylan by surprise. “So you have something to remember it by if you decide to sell.”

“That would be so amazing.” The prospect of having to sell the holiday home she had owned for twenty-five years didn’t hit Dylan as hard in the gut any longer—she had other things on her mind. “It would also remind me of the time you and I spent here.”

“And there’s that.” Raffo briefly sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “There is something special about this place. I can feel it now.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the orgasms talking?” Dylan rested her chin on Raffo’s elbow.

“Maybe just a little, but that canvas didn’t paint itself.”

“It sure as hell didn’t.” Dylan no longer had to stop herself, so she leaned in and kissed Raffo full on the lips, naked in Big Bear Lake.

CHAPTER 21

Another week had gone by. When Raffo first arrived in Big Bear, she had expected this to be one of the most painful times of her life, pining after Mia and stutteringly trying to paint again. Instead, it turned out to be, without a doubt, one of the best, most magnificent weeks of her entire life.

The weather was sunny. Her mojo was flowing. And Dylan was just as kind and caring and hot as she’d been from the start, but they also slept together every night. After Raffo packed up her paintbrushes for the day, they sometimes danced on the deck together, the music turned up loud, their bodies always moving toward each other. And yesterday, when Raffo had joined Dylan for her afternoon ‘nap’, they’d listened to Ida Burton’s naughty story together—Ida had not disappointed.

Thoughts of Mia had faded as Dylan filled every corner of her world. In the kitchen. At the table across from Raffo. On the deck. In her head. And all over Raffo’s body. It was like a dream, and sometimes, when she woke in the middle of the night to find Dylan sleeping beside her, Raffo had to pinch herself. Because this was real. Though it was just a secret affair strictly relegated to their summer in Big Bear, a veritable summer fling, every single second of it was still real.

Raffo walked onto the deck where Dylan was lounging, her head angled toward the setting sun.

Without asking, Raffo refilled Dylan’s wine glass from the bottle in the ice bucket next to her. Settling into the adjacent chair, Raffo couldn’t help but smile. Even when she tried to turn down the corners of her mouth, they didn’t obey. The joy was beyond her control.

Dylan stretched out her hand, as she always did, and Raffo took it in hers. She swiped her thumb over the softest part of Dylan’s palm.

“How was painting?” Dylan asked, as she slowly turned her head to look at Raffo.

“Excellent.” Raffo couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that the triumphant return of her mojo might be too connected to this place—and to Dylan. But she wouldn’t know until she returned home. And she didn’t want to think about that yet. Dylan’s trip to Europe was supposed to last two months. She could stay in Big Bear without raising suspicion for another month. So could Raffo, although she imagined Connor would want to hear some news from her soon. “I kind of miss working on my previous painting, though,” she joked.

“You don’t have to paint my breasts to see them.” Dylan smiled at Raffo. “They’re all yours whenever you want.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Raffo asked. Dylan had put the painting in her bedroom, right across from the bed—it proved a powerful aphrodisiac.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.” Dylan squeezed Raffo’s hand. “I want to take it home so I can enjoy it, but I can’t risk Connor seeing it.”

“Yeah.” Raffo just nodded. There were things she simply didn’t have a reply to, like any mention of Connor in the context of their affair, which would have to find a way to magically not have happened in a few weeks’ time.

“I seem to be feeling my age today. I’m exhausted,” Dylan said.

“I’ll cook for you tonight,” Raffo said without hesitation. “I should really respect my elders and their limited energy more.” After all, Dylan was almost twice Raffo’s age.

“But you hate cooking.”

“Not when I cook for you. Don’t worry. I have a few dishes up my sleeve and I promise not to poison you.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later.” Raffo lifted their joined hands and kissed the inside of Dylan’s wrist.

Dylan only groaned in response.

It was a pity she hated it so much because Raffo wasn’t that bad a cook. When she made biryani for Dylan, it didn’t feel like a punishment, although it wasn’t exactly enjoyable either.

Raffo took her time and thought about her mother while she prepared the meal. She could hear her mother’s voice when she added the spices—“more isn’talwaysbetter, Raffi”—and maybe that was just another magical thing about Big Bear but by the end of it, Raffo was able to serve Dylan a decent plate of food.

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