Page 65 of Our Secret Summer

Dylan’s jaw slacked. Not because Raffo was stripping off that tuxedo she looked so dashing in, but because of the words that were coming out of her mouth.

“Sophie’s boyfriend, who died, was Dolores’s son, well stepson, really. Dolores’s partner, Angela, died a long time ago, and Ian, Sophie’s boyfriend, was Angela’s son.”

“You’re making this up to—I don’t know.” Dylan shook her head. “Why are you making this up, babe?”

“It’s true,” Raffo said in her matter-of-fact way.

Dylan knew it must be true. It wasn’t Raffo’s style to come up with shocking tales like this. “Sophie was her daughter-in-law?” Her eyes grew wide.

“Well, not really,” Raffo said. “But kind of, I guess.” She grinned at Dylan as she unbuttoned her shirt. “See, there are much more, um, exotic pairings than us. My exact words to Connor after Sophie told us all about this last night.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dylan reached for Raffo. She hadn’t seen nearly enough of her since arriving in Chicago.

“You’d better not be judging them,” Raffo said, her voice all smiles.

“Who am I to judge?” Dylan found Raffo’s dark gaze, and the world finally slowed to a perfect stillness.

“You’re my old lady.” Raffo couldn’t even finish saying that without snickering.

“And you are something special.” Dylan kissed Raffo on the lips.

“You know I don’t think of myself that way,” Raffo whispered.

“That doesn’t make it any less so,” Dylan said, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. “For someone who refuses to think of herself as special, you make some really special work.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in it.” Raffo pulled back a little. She managed to keep a straight face.

Dylan couldn’t help but chuckle. There were some things it was simply impossible to disagree with Raffo about. Although Raffo would probably disagree with what Dylan was about to say next.

“Dolores said something about turning sixty being really tricky. She freaked out on the?—”

Before she could finish, Raffo placed a finger on Dylan’s lips, gently silencing her. “The only thing tricky about your age is how it manages to make you even more captivating with each passing year.”

It was unlike Raffo to say something so cheesy, but Dylan’s cheeks flushed nonetheless.

“You’re gorgeous when you talk nonsense like that,” she mumbled against Raffo’s finger.

As they leaned in for another kiss, Dylan couldn’t help but think that just maybe, turning sixty wouldn’t be so confrontational after all. Not with Raffo by her side, painting their love story one brushstroke at a time.

CHAPTER 42

“If the lesbians aren’t doing it, it’s almost certainly the invisible influence of the patriarchy,” Alexis Dalton playing Justine Blackburn said on the screen.

Dylan chuckled so hard at that particular line of dialogue, she had to pause the movie—she didn’t want to miss a second ofGimme Shelternow that they were finally watching it.

“If you keep pausing, we’ll never get to the end.” Raffo tightened her arm around Dylan, their bodies nestled into the couch. “You’re sixty now. You’ll probably fall asleep soon.” Dylan’s body shook along with Raffo’s as she laughed at her own extremely lame joke.

“This Justine is just too much,” Dylan said. “Did she really say that or was that something the scriptwriter came up with?”

“I’m not sure, but it sounds like vintage Justine.” There was a reverence in her tone, a subtle softening that Dylan had learned to recognize whenever Raffo talked about Justine Blackburn.

“I’d love to meet her.” Dylan shifted in Raffo’s embrace, turning to catch her expression.

“Sure. I’ll set it up. Maybe we can drop by the shelter next week.” Raffo sat up straighter. “You know how I absolutely refuse to think of myself as special just because I have a talent for arranging paint on a canvas?”

Dylan wholly disagreed with this, but she knew how adamant Raffo was about this, so she nodded along.

“It’s because of women like Justine.” Raffo looked Dylan straight in the eye. “What Justine doesisspecial.” Raffo was far from the sentimental type, except when it came to the Rainbow Shelter and what it had meant to her. “She is how I measure being special. Compared to Justine, to what she does for unhoused kids, I’m nothing special.”