Morgan pulled Emilia out of harm’s way and toward the grill as Angie forged through another blast of water to wrestle the hose out of Stevie’s hands. They went down in a heap of arms, legs, and enthusiastic dogs, who had decided this was the best game in the entire world.

“Not in the mood for a wet T-shirt contest?” Emilia asked as Morgan knelt to check the gas.

“Why, are you offering?”

“To spray you?”

“No. To get wet.”

Emilia wished the line, which was borderline Stevie-bad, hadn’t worked on her, but her body energetically disagreed. She tangled her fingers in Morgan’s hair, glad the grill blocked them from view, and shook her head in disapproval. Her expression held for the two seconds it took for Morgan to close the distance and nip the fabric of her jeans, and then she had to fight not to gasp. Stevie and Angie were still entangled in a ball of curses and laughter. At the moment, Angie appeared to have Stevie pinned and was dousing her entire front with the hose while the dogs took turns diving in to bite at the water. They vanished from her sight as her eyes closed. Morgan’s hands found her ass, pressing the zipper of her jeans against her mouth in a kiss that left her clutching the grill for support.

“Plenty of gas.”

Morgan stood and opened the top of the grill with a self-satisfied set to her lips that Emilia found simultaneously frustrating and incredibly hot.

“Morgan! Save me!” Stevie’s cry for help was interrupted by Marvin, who had chosen that moment to lick her face enthusiastically.

“You started it,” said Morgan.

Stevie, however, didn’t look like she wanted rescuing. Emilia couldn’t help noticing the way she was grinning, or the way Angie, whose bare skin glistened, leaned over her to shove the hose down the front of Stevie’s shirt with a victorious expression that had one too many layers for a simple water fight.

“Children,” said Lillian from the doorway of the house. Hermione glared regally down at them all from her stronghold in Lillian’s arms.

Angie got one last spray in, then let the hose fall to the ground. Lillian turned it off and skirted the soaked grass on her way over to Morgan.

“Good day?” Morgan asked.

“If I have to hear one more person complain that I should treat their animal for free because, and I quote, I would do it if I really loved animals, I’m going to scream.”

“Ask them if they would do their job for free,” said Morgan.

“I think I would prefer to just have you help me bury the bodies.”

“That’s what friends are for, Lil.”