“There’s that doctor personality. I was beginning to think she was too chill,” Emilia said in her ear.

Morgan’s fingers tightened on Emilia’s hip as her whisper traced its shivering way down her spine. She saw Emilia’s lips curve in a self-satisfied smile out of the corner of her eye, and she suppressed a groan of frustration.

“Didn’t they teach you that in vet school?” she said.

Emilia didn’t answer, but she placed her left hand on the small of Morgan’s back, and the slow drag of her thumb across the fabric of Morgan’s shirt felt intentional. She needed a cold shower. Now.

“Much better,” said Lillian.

Morgan didn’t know if she was furious or relieved at Lillian’s dismissal. Danielle dropped her arm as the group began to disperse, and she braved a look in Emilia’s direction.

“If Angie crops out my head, who will she put there instead?” Emilia asked.

“Her cat, probably.”

“Might be an improvement.”

Morgan tried for a laugh and managed a strangled croak. Every nerve in her body hummed and her muscles tightened, poised to act on a variety of appealing impulses, none of which were appropriate for a crowded kitchen.

“Where is the cat, anyway?” Emilia continued.

“Hiding.” Her ability to form complete sentences was fading fast. Words would be next.

“Guess I got lucky this time.”

“Mhmm.” And there go all language skills.

Emilia’s fingers brushed her back again. “Where could I grab a glass of water?”

“I’ll get you one.” There. Four words in a row. Morgan pulled away, but she let her hand trail down Emilia’s waist as she did so, and Emilia’s pupils widened.

Fuck.

She fled to the sink and filled two glasses from the tap. Cold water soothed her dry throat, but she wished she could pour it over her head.

“Excuse me for a sec,” she said to Emilia as she handed her the second glass. “I need to go check on the fire.”

The night air offered a lackluster alternative to an icy bucket of water, but it helped. She settled into an empty chair and greeted the dogs, who had reclaimed the yard in the absence of humans.

“Hey, buddy,” she said to Kraken. He flopped at her feet with a sigh.

The door opened and shut at her back, and she heard the suction break on the seal of the cooler as the footsteps paused.

“Beer?” asked Stevie.

Morgan held out her hand and accepted the drink, grateful Danielle had given her the night off.

“Cake turned out better than I expected,” Stevie said, still standing. Morgan looked up at her.

“You did a great job. Did Ange like it?”

“She said she did.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?” Stevie downed half her beer in one gulp.

“Like you don’t believe it. It was fucking delicious.”

“So good she’s saving a piece for Lana.” Stevie finished her drink and plopped into an empty chair, twirling the bottle in her hands.