Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166: Grace: Seating Arrangements

"—can’t just rely on Ron holding her in his lap for multiple days, Caine." My hands plant firmly on my hips as I stare up at the immovable wall of muscle and tattoos before me. His cologne ad smell is doing a serious number on my rational thought, but I’m holding firm on the argument we’ve been having for about fifteen minutes. "Bun needs a car seat."

Everything’s ready to go. Jack-Eye and Andrew are only ten minutes out. Lyre and Owen haven’t emerged from Archie and Doris’s camper.

The only thing holding us back is what we’re doing with Sadie—if anything—and the issue of Bun’s car seat. I’m trying not to think about the former. If I do, I’ll end up submitting beneath the guilt and trying to figure out how we’re going to raise a dog around wolves.

Seriously. Imagine going to Blue Mountain with a dog in tow. A dog. She might actually get torn apart.

A muscle twitches in Caine’s cheek. "We made it here without one."

He’s said this ten times, and I’ve responded the same way another ten.

"I know." I gesture toward the grassy area where Jer and Sara chase each other in wide circles, Sadie barking excitedly at their heels while Ron monitors from a distance. Bun toddles after them with high-pitched squeals of laughter. "But what if we’d crashed? What if someone had hit us? She would’ve gone straight through the windshield."

"I would never let that happen."

"It’s not about what you’d let happen." My voice rises despite my efforts to keep calm. "It’s physics. Basic safety. Even the High Alpha of all werewolfdom can’t override a car crash."

His nostrils flare. "We’re not separating."

"Then we need to find a car seat that fits in your truck." I cross my arms, matching his stance. "There’s got to be a baby store within twenty minutes of here."

The truck’s backseat is far too narrow to fit a standard car seat, or probably any car seat at all. There’s no room for one, but there has to be a way somehow, right?

Storms rage in his gray eyes. "You’re not leaving my sight."

"Fine. Then let’s find a car seat to fit the truck, and we’ll all stay together," I repeat.

He knows as well as I do—we aren’t going to find anything.

"Then we’ll get a car seat and put it in the front with us."

I shake my head immediately. I don’t know much about car seats, but I do know one thing: I’ve been in enough cars with a warning to never place a rear-facing car seat in the front. "That’s not safe."

He pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. "First you say she needs a car seat to be safe. Then I say to put her in the front and you insist it isn’t safe. Which is it, Grace? Is it safe or not?"

"It’s safe, but not in the front seat. The air bags—"

I cut off abruptly, because I’m not really sure of what happens. I just remember the warning says not to because of the air bag.

"The air bags what?"

"Can... hurt her?" freёwebnovel.com

"You’re not going in Andrew’s car, Grace."

Here I am, trying to be a responsible mother figure to a toddler, and the man who’s taken over as a daddy figure keeps getting in my damn way. I scowl. "Are you saying Bun’s life isn’t as important as your possessive ego?"

"No, I’m saying both of you are in greater danger with Andrew driving than with me."

I throw up my hands in frustration. "How would you even know that? Have you ever seen Andrew drive before?"

"I don’t need to see him drive to know I’m right."

A scoff escapes me. Crazy to think I was once too terrified to mock this man’s lack of reasoning skills. "You’re being ridiculous."

"No, I’m being cautious. My mate and daughter are not going in another man’s car."

"What if he was a woman?"

Caine hesitates.

"Hah! See? It’s because he’s a man, not because of his driving skills." I point at him in triumph. "You lose this argument. I’m not putting her life at risk because you’re jealous."

"Grace—"

"No. This argument is over. We’re going to the store to buy her a car seat, and we’ll install it in Andrew’s car."

Caine’s expression hardens again. "No."

The single syllable and his blockheaded stubbornness ignites something in me—a spark of defiance building since the first time Brax looked at me like I was a burden rather than a daughter.

"Yes, and you didn’t seem to consider us mated." He steps a little closer. "You wanted me to court you. For us to get to know each other. To... mesh more thoroughly. No?"

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