Page 44 of Our Secret Summer

“I’m not sending you back to Big Bear.” Was that a hint of glee in his voice?

“Did your mom say whether she would sell the house or not?”

“I think she hasn’t decided yet.” Connor’s tone was neutral again, as though his mother wasn’t the subject.

Raffo, somehow, would hate if Dylan resorted to selling the lake house. Still, it was none of her business.

“Oh god.” Connor went rigid in his chair. “If my mom has naked pictures of you on her phone, does that mean you have nudes of her on yours?”

A flush spread from Raffo’s neck to her cheeks. “For the sake of our friendship,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “let’s not discuss that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Connor groaned.

CHAPTER 30

As soon as she parked her car in the driveway in Big Bear, in the spot where Raffo’s truck had been for five delicious weeks, Dylan made the decision—or, better, the decision was made for her.

She couldn’t sell her house in Big Bear. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. It had too many beautiful memories attached to it. Not just from her time with Raffo, although those were freshest in her mind, but from when Connor was little and he still loved coming here—before he became the very definition of a city slicker and, apparently, allergic to country air. She remembered him at nine, helping her plant the row of pines along the property line, his small hands covered in dirt, his face serious with concentration. Those trees now towered over the house, marking the passing years like silent guardians.

This house was much more a part of Dylan than her main residence in West Hollywood. She could sell that house and rent a small apartment until she got back on her feet. Or she could get another corporate job. She could take the path of least resistance—and least fun. But this was life, and it definitely wasn’t turning out to be Dylan’s best year.

First, she’d lost half a million bucks and then, she’d also gone and lost Raffo. Although she could hardly compare her time with Raffo to money in the bank. There was no comparison. She’d happily lose all her remaining money if it bought her a solution to the paradox in her heart. To how much she wanted Raffo and, at the same time, didn’t want to hurt her son. But Connor came first. It was the most important principle of being a mother. From the minute Connor had been born, Dylan had happily and easily—and forever—put herself second.

Raffo had probably moved on by now. Maybe Connor had been right, and Mia was finding a way to get back together with her. Or she’d simply met someone else. Or she just relished being on her own. Dylan didn’t know because they didn’t discuss Raffo any longer now that Connor knew. As though by not talking about it with Dylan, Connor could erase their affair from his consciousness.

Dylan was wise enough not to push him on the subject even though, some mornings, she woke, feverish and wanting, desperate for the tiniest morsel of news about Raffo. Because almost five weeks after leaving Big Bear, Dylan still couldn’t forget Raffo. Now that she was back at the place where it had all transpired, she understood why.

Their connection had been brief, but incredibly powerful. It wasn’t the amount of time they’d spent together, but the intensity of it. And the sex. Dylan couldn’t even bring herself to think about the prospect of going on a date with someone else—let alone a mediocre middle-aged man. Not after how Raffo had made her feel. Some nights, she felt it in her bones as though it had happened only yesterday and, of course, Dylan did her part to keep those blissful memories alive. She hadn’t masturbated so frequently, and with such gusto, her mind ablaze with images of Raffo, her wrists tingling as she imagined Raffo’s fingers curled around them, since she’d been a teenager and first discovered what a climax felt like.

Dylan sank into Raffo’s favorite lounger, wondering if the impossibility of their romance only intensified her desire—that bone-deep yearning that kept her company through endless days and sleepless nights. Time was not doing its job, on the contrary.

Dylan walked inside the house and her gaze fell on a small bronze statue of a merman that Connor had always coveted. She put it in her bag so she could give it to him the next time she saw him. It was the least she could do for her son.

The day after, when she put her bag into the car, the weight of it reminded her of the statue for Connor. She called her son and invited him to her house so he could pick it up.

“Actually, Mom, can I ask you a huge favor?” he said in his sweetest voice.

“Sure, darling.”

“I’m in a major time crunch and my assistant is swamped. I forgot my suit—it’s hanging on my bedroom door, and I need it tonight. Could you possibly stop by my house and bring it to the gallery, please? My day is so insane.”

“Sure. No problem. I’ll be there in three hours tops.”

“Thanks so much, Mom. You’re a life saver. Love you.” He said something to someone else in a muffled voice. “I have to go. See you later.”

Before Dylan had a chance to ask whether Raffo would be at the house, or was even still living with him, Connor had hung up.

As she pulled up to Connor’s house, the answer soon became obvious because there was Raffo’s silver truck parked in front of the garage.

Dylan didn’t use her key. Her heart hammered in her throat as she rang the bell.

Raffo opened the door wearing nothing but a robe, water dripping from her dark hair onto her shoulders. Dylan’s mouth went dry.

“Dylan?” She pulled the robe tighter around her body. “Um, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Connor asked me to pick up his suit for tonight and bring it to the gallery. I’ll be in and out in two minutes.” Dylan was rambling, her mind racing. There was so much she wanted to say to Raffo but wasn’t allowed to. And fuck, how she wanted to push her against the nearest wall and just kiss and kiss her.Argh.She had to get a grip.

“Come in.” Raffo opened the door. “I had an incident with a paintbrush at my new house,” Raffo said as she led Dylan into the living room. “I know how ironic that sounds.”

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