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Then Arnav held his phone for me to see.

I squinted. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain.”

He grinned. “The women had anAlice in Wonderlandthemed wedding. So adorable. Stephanie was Alice, Taryn was the Mad Hatter, Lachlan was the White Rabbit, and Cooper—”

“Was the Queen of Hearts?” I squinted again.

“Yep. Now, that’s brotherly love.” He put his phone away. “I love my sisters, but I would never wear that getup for any of them.”

“But you would if one of your nibblets asked.” I used the non-gender specific term for nieces and nephews.

Arnav glared as he took Taffy’s leash. “You just had to go there.” He wagged his finger. “Donottell Parvan. He’ll tell Minal, she’ll tell the other five, and somehow I can see myself wearing a sari.”

I grinned at the image. “You’d look good in a sari.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m going to save the witty comeback foranother time. I’ll need it more if you coerce Foster and gang up on me.”

“Hey.”

“Hey, what? I seem to have been the butt of several jokes over dinner.”

His words had me hesitating for a moment until he broke into a broad grin.

“I would’ve said something if I actually minded. You seemed super stressed when you first arrived. And yeah, I should’ve mentioned I’d invited Demetrius. That was my bad.”

I wouldn’t have come, and I would’ve missed out on this wonderful evening.

“All good.”

Queenie eyed us. Well, and the bag of treats.

“They can have one each when we take them inside.” Arnav held up the poop bag. “I’ll deal with this in the garage; you go ahead through the front.”

“Sure. That sounds great.” Because I really didn’t want to deal with dog shit.Admit it, if you had a dog, you would totally scoop the poop.

Points for honesty.

Kennedy was bringing her therapy dog, Tiffany, to the camp tomorrow.

None of the campers had allergies nor expressed a fear of dogs.

The yellow lab had a placid nature—I’d met her twice—and I hoped offering everyone a chance to enjoy some canine companionship would be a good thing.

I entered the front door, closed it firmly, unclipped the leashes, then shooed the dogs. Encouraged them into the hallway toward the kitchen. Tried to get them moving.

Their gazes remained riveted to the bag.

I sighed. “Okay, let’s go.” I led the way to the kitchen accompanied by clacking nails on the hardwood.

Upon spotting Foster, who turned to watch us come in, I smiled. “You never have to worry about being caught unaware.” During the tour of the lovely house, I’d discovered—aside from some throw rugs—there wasn’t any carpeting in the place.

Foster, seated at the kitchen island, grinned. “You would be absolutely correct. I swear Queenie is extra loud. Especially around mealtime. Oh, are those dog treats?” He gestured to the bag in my hand. “Those are Taffy’s favorite and Queenie’s second-favorite.”

“How can you tell?”

Foster spelled out a word. Clearly the name of a dog treat, but I didn’t know that one and so was lost.

Queenie, however, was also lost. As in lost her ever-loving mind.