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I didn’t know if it was his phrasing or the accompanying eyebrow waggle, but I barked out a laugh even as I shook my head. “No way I’m fucking you in my little brother’s hook-up spot.”

Wren gasped and his eyes darkened. “So where are you gonna fuck me—eep!”

I moved fast, scooping him up, and throwing him over my shoulder. His laughter was a balm to my soul and I found myself smiling again. Wren reached down and squeezed my ass, so I gave a quick slap to his as an admonishment to behave. He snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah, like that’s gonna stop me.” His words were a little strained from my shoulder in his stomach, but I liked him breathless so I didn’t do anything about it.

I had a minute to wonder about my shift in mood. I’d been wound so tight, ready to take on the world, and Wren had fixed me. Not permanently, I had to do that myself and I was, but for the moment. Just being with him, having the man I loved in my corner, had worked a miracle.

When I made it to my truck, I set him on his feet, took his face in my hands and kissed him. Long, slow, and deep, making sure he felt all my love and appreciation in the action. The way he smiled when I finally let him breathe let me know he understood perfectly.

If it wasn’t against regs, I would have worn my Class A’s just for the intimidation factor. Not everyone in the country appreciated military service members—I wasn’t stupid—but most people respected the uniform and the service it represented. I wasn’t above doing whatever I could to give us an edge as we sat in the courtroom awaiting the judge’s entrance.

So I was in dress pants and a button down, just like my dad, though he’d added a sport coat. Crew was dressed similarly, though Mal had made him wear a vest as well. Mom’s outfit was classy too, a dress I’d never seen and nude heels she’d gotten for Demi’s wedding. Mom was just as much a rancher as Dad was, and preferred jeans.

Everybody wanted to come, but Mom thought that was excessive. Wren was the only one who said from the jump that he was staying home, and he made sure after he said it that I knew it was because of his fame and not that he didn’t want to support us. But I did know that. He would have been right by my side if not for the fact that he was instantly recognizable. In the end, it was decided that it would just be my parents, me, and Crew. My brother was there in case the judge wanted any information about Payton’s observations, though the chance of that was slim.

We had to travel to Westfield, which was the county seat, in order to appear before the judge. My parents sat in the first row behind the county attorney and Weaver. Crew and I sat directly behind them. When my knee started to bounce, Crew bumped his shoulder into mine and then patted my thigh.

“All rise!”

Everyone stood as the honorable Judge Elias Ritter entered the courtroom. I couldn’t help glancing over and studying Laura Bennett. She cleaned up nicely, and looked like a respectable adult. Except for the evil eye she shot my parents. Or me. It was hard to tell.

The judge took his seat and then ordered us all to follow suit. He didn’t say anything as he opened a folder, scanned the contents for a second, and gestured for the clerk.

The woman stood and read out, “The matter of S.B. minor child, index number 2026JV17598.”

“Thank you. This is the first hearing on the matter. I have received and reviewed reports from the Department of Human Services regarding its investigation, a letter from Mr. Sutton regarding the stipulated settlement, as well as a letter from the child’s legal representation.” The judge lifted his gaze. “Mr. Sutton?”

Sutton rose to his feet. “Thank you, your Honor. Per my letter to the court yesterday, and the reports you have before you, all parties have reached an agreement. The parties are prepared to stipulate, with court approval, that the minor S. B. be placed in the temporary legal and physical custody of Jennifer and Michael Harrington in kinship placement. As per the report before the court, DHS has completed background checks and home assessment, and finds the placement safe and appropriate.”

I blew out a breath of relief. Our lawyer had said that an agreement had been reached, that Laura had caved to her lawyer’s suggestions even though she initially wanted to fight. But until it was said on the record, I hadn’t trusted that she wouldn’t change her mind. If she’d fought this, Shiloh would have been kept from us until there was an evidentiary hearing and who knows how long that would have taken.

“Thank you, Mr. Sutton.” The judge gave a nod, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and focused on the opposite table. “Mr. Howarth, the county attorney has outlined the proposed agreement regarding your client, Ms. Bennett. Is the statement accurate to your understanding?”

Laura’s lawyer stood. “It is, your Honor. My client is prepared to stipulate the temporary placement with the Harringtons without admitting to the underlying factual allegations in the petition at this time and to enter into the proposed treatment plan.”

“Very well.” The judge made a note and then focused directly on Laura. “Ms. Bennett, I must address you directly to make sure you understand what is happening today. Are you currently under the influence of alcohol, prescription drugs, or any other substance that would impair your ability to understand what we are doing here?”

“No.”

I had to hold in the snort. She couldn’t even be bothered to add a “sir” or an “your honor”? The displeasure just rolled off her, which, in my opinion, wasn’t helping her case any. Crew elbowed me in the side.

“Have you had sufficient time to review this agreement with Mr. Howarth and discuss your options?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

The judge’s gaze sharpened. “Ms. Bennett, we need clear records. Is that a yes, or would you like more time to discuss this with your attorney in the counsel’s room?”

“Yes,” she repeated, but it sounded like she didn’t mean the words. It didn’t matter though because she’d said it.

“You understand, per the stipulated agreement, that you are required to undergo comprehensive substance abuse treatment, submit to random urinalysis, and complete a certified parenting course?”

“Yeah.”

The judge let that one slide, continuing on to the next point. “You understand that your visits with your son will be supervised by DHS or an approved party and that your parenting time is contingent upon a clean alcohol screening prior to the visit?”

“Yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes, sarcasm heavy in her tone.