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“Would you like to meet Ida Burton?” Raffo asked. It sounded as solemn and serious as she imagined a marriage proposal might sound.

Dylan’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“I’ve agreed to paint her family portrait,” Raffo said, edging closer. “We’re meeting next week, and you’re coming with me.” She pressed her hand to Dylan’s chest. “If your sixty-year-old heart can handle it.”

“No way.” Dylan leaned in, studying Raffo’s face with laser focus, searching for any hint of teasing. “Are you messing with me?”

Raffo slowly shook her head. “I wouldn’t mess with you about something as big as meeting Ida Burton, babe.”

“Where are we meeting them?”

“At their house in Malibu. Connor has set it all up. I wasn’t sure he’d manage not telling you. I owe him big time. I might have to paint Ida’s gay ex-husband to pay him back.” Raffo wasn’t even kidding about that.

“Connor kept his mouth shut so you could surprise me?” Dylan’s voice cracked with emotion.

“He sure did.” Raffo should have known this tiny tidbit would get to Dylan the most. As a mother, she’d had to overcome quite a few things to get to this moment with Raffo. To have them celebrate her sixtieth together, as a couple. “Happy birthday, babe,” Raffo said. She leaned in closer. “Sixty looks damn good on you.” She kissed Dylan on the lips.

“What on earth am I going to get you for your birthday after you’ve given me all this?” She pulled her lips into one of her irresistible smiles.

“Don’t worry about that for even one single second.” Emotion roughened Raffo’s voice. “You’ve already given me everything.” She caught Dylan’s inevitable protest with a kiss.