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“I could have hurt you,” I rasped, unable to move air through my lungs normally.

Wren scoffed. He actually scoffed. “You would never.”

“I just did!” I shouted, my voice bouncing off the barn and making the mares in the paddock behind me spook.

“No,” Wren soothed. He came closer but when I held up a hand, he stopped. His eyes were filled with understanding I didn’t deserve. “Your nervous system is stuck. And for my Marine, it’s always going to be fight, not flight.”

The way he was speaking was so melodic. He was doing it on purpose. His regular voice was always dulcet, but he was ramping that up, trying to soothe. I closed my eyes and did the box breathing that helped me stop spiraling, and let that beautiful voice just wash over me.

“It’s been an intense couple of days. You’re on high alert for the next thing that could go wrong. Your mind is running through scenarios of everything you need to do in order to get Shiloh back. Of course me sneaking up on you is going to get that reaction. Your training is always going to kick in. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have made my presence known.”

“My situational awareness is better than this,” I forced out with a self-deprecating chuckle. I was calming, my heart rate slowing down. When I opened my eyes, Wren was right there, barely a foot away and even though I’d tracked his movement, even in my panic, I hadn’t expected him to be quite that close. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nope,” he said with a kind smile. “It’s not your fault. It’s PTSD.”

I nodded and inhaled as deeply as I could, held it for as long as possible, then let it out so slowly. After that, I felt a little more settled and when Wren touched my arm, I didn’t jerk away. It made him bolder, and he stepped in close, wrapping his arms around my neck. It took me a moment to get my arms to work, but then I was squeezing him to me, holding on for dear life.

I buried my face against his neck. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“You didn’t,” he assured me, turning his head to kiss my ear. “I was startled, yes. And I’m worried. But not scared. I know you would never hurt me.”

“Not on purpose,” I murmured. I pulled back just enough to see his face, but still kept him in my arms. Now that he was here, I didn’t want to let him go. The conviction was easy to see, and it settled me further. “But shit like this happens sometimes. I’m so much better than I was, but—.”

“I know.”

I nodded, kissed him softly, and then exhaled sharply. “It’s just…all the things you said. It’s almost like you know me or something.”

I got a tiny chuckle for that. Wren cupped my face and swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. His brows creased. “Did the interview with the social worker not go well?”

“It was fine. Good even. Weaver seems really kind, and even though she couldn’t say much, she did some heavy implying that she was going to recommend that Shiloh be given back to us.” I sighed. “But who knows what the judge is going to say on Friday? And I can’t help but run scenarios in my head.”

Wren pressed his forehead to mine. “We should go inside. It’s cold out here.”

“The cold is helping me,” I admitted softly, not sure how to put into words why it was keeping me from a full-blown panic. But even though he was bundled up, he was shivering. Not ready to go inside, I let go of him long enough to open my jacket and pull him in, wrapping it around him. I ran hot, I could keep him warm. The sigh he let out was full of contentment, and I was able to smile for the first time since yesterday.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said, lips pressed against his temple. He was using a new shampoo, this one smelled like citrus, and I loved it on him. Even though we’d spent the evening together, and we’d slept wrapped around each other, I hadn’t said the words out loud.

“You’re forgiven. Don’t do it again.” He pinched my side, which made me chuckle, which I thought was his point. Not that he wasn’t serious, because me taking my attitude and anger out on him was unacceptable, but he was trying to lighten the mood. He knew I meant it, and I knew he did too.

We stayed there for a while, with Wren trying to bury himself inside me to stay warm. The longer I held him, the more centered I felt. My heart rate lowered to a normal level and I was breathing fine again. Just as I was about to suggest we go inside, Wren lifted his head, nearly clocking me in the chin.

“Come with me to Denver tomorrow.”

It took a second for his words to process. “What?”

He gave his impish grin, the one that said he was planning something. “I want to go look at the Airstream. Drive me to Denver tomorrow. We’ll eat at a nice place. Make a day of it.”

I narrowed my gaze. “I can’t just…I can’t fuck off to Denver when all this is going on.”

Wren’s smile never slipped. “Bodhi, my love, I say this with all the love in my heart but what can you do? The interviews and visit have happened—”

“Still ongoing. Weaver is talking to more of us and looking at the whole ranch.”

“—and there’s nothing else you can do. Tomorrow is a waiting game, and it’s gonna suck, so come with me.”

I squinted at him. “You trying to distract me?”

Wren nodded emphatically. “Yep. So let me. And if you need a distraction right now, I hear the equipment shed is a great place for a little afternoon delight.”