Page 62 of Our Secret Summer

The last traces of Connor’s hesitation melted away. “That actually sounds really fucking amazing.” He sent her a smile. “Even though this probably means more naked portraits of my mom.”

“Almost certainly.” Raffo grinned. “But I’ll paint them so even you can look at them.”

They shared a laugh, all of the earlier tension dissipating.

“To going places.” Connor picked up a half-empty water bottle from his desk. “Together.”

When Connor arrived, Dylan held him in an embrace that lasted longer than either of them was accustomed to. She must have done something right to have raised a son like that. A son who could accept that she was dating his best friend. Though ‘dating’ hardly described what she and Raffo had now. As far as she was concerned, they were in a relationship. That’s what it felt like—like the most glorious, proper, satisfying relationship Dylan had been in since those early years with Connor’s father.

“Raffo’s inspiration is through the roof,” Connor said as he walked into the house. “She’s painting like they sometimes show in those completely unrealistic movies where an artist creates a work of genius in twenty-four hours.” His lips curved into an enigmatic grin. “If I had known it was going to be like this when you got together, I wouldn’t have objected so much.” Dylan couldn’t read whether he was posturing, joking, or something in between.

“Sit, darling. Let me get you a drink.” Dylan needed Connor relaxed for the Raffo-related conversation ahead. “I have that kombucha you like.”

“I’ll have a glass of wine. I took an Uber. It’s been a week.” He slumped against the chair, exhaling with theatrical weariness.

“Busy at the gallery?” Dylan poured them both a glass of white wine.

“I can hardly complain but suddenly every up-and-coming artist wants space in my gallery. It’s very much the Raffo-Shah effect.”

Dylan handed him the wine and sat opposite her son at the kitchen table. He looked tired, his eyes small and his skin paler than usual.

“Maybe you should take a break. Go to the lake house with Murray.”

“I can’t take a break now, Mom. Work is nuts.”

“That’s precisely when you need one.” Dylan didn’t expect her son to take her advice, but it didn’t stop her from giving it—she had learned this particular lesson the hard way many times over. “Even just for a few days.”

“I might just hire a new co-worker instead.”

“Really? That’s great.” Dylan bit back the words: if it’s financially viable. She would have inquired about the gallery’s finances without qualms before she’d lost half a million dollars, but she still didn’t entirely feel as though she had the right to ask.

“Raffo’s new pieces will easily fetch three times what her previous works sold for. Minimum.”

Dylan couldn’t possibly stop herself from asking the next question. “Which pieces are we talking about exactly?”

Connor chuckled. “We’re calling it the ‘I’m So In Love With My Best Friend’s Mom Collection’, so yeah, it’s all you, Mom. You. And Raffo herself as well, surprisingly.”

Raffo showed Dylan what she was working on all the time. Dylan knew exactly what—and who—she was painting. It was an essential part of why they’d gotten so close so quickly in Big Bear and it continued to be the case in Los Angeles. But Dylan stayed out of the commercial aspect of Raffo’s art. It wasn’t her business.

Dylan didn’t really know what to say to her son about that. Her stomach performed an unexpected somersault.

“Does it bother you?” she asked.

“Nah.” Connor took a large sip of wine. “I’m still getting used to it but it helps that Raffo’s so… Raffo, you know?”

Dylan knew exactly what Connor meant. She also beamed with pride a little.

“But she’sreallyinto you.” Connor blew out some air, as though he still couldn’t believe that his hot artist friend had feelings for his mom. Dylan understood—some days, she could hardly believe it herself. But there was no doubt about how much Raffo wasinto her. “If Mia ever sees this new work, she might never recover.”

The mention of Mia’s name didn’t jolt Dylan that much. But it was a good enough segue into what Dylan wanted to talk about with her son.

“Speaking of Mia,” she said a little clumsily, although Dylan mentioning Raffo’s ex certainly seemed to capture Connor’s full attention. “She and Raffo are selling their house and Raffo made me an offer.”

Connor’s eyes grew wide. “Please, tell me whatever you’re going to say next doesn’t include the words U-Haul and moving in together.”

“What?” Dylan shook her head. “No, we’re not moving in together, darling. That would be a bit soon.”

“Phew.” He pretended to wipe the sweat off his brow. “You never know with lesbians. They’re very fast-moving that way.”

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