Page 43 of Dawn of the Pack

“No biggie,” Jared squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll teach you.”

I hate to walk away from the gleaming life-sized toys, but most of the activity is happening further along in the garage. We reach the crowd, and I spot several vehicles that I’m intimately familiar with.

“Ah, so this is where your cars go when you’re here.”

“Yup,” Landon pats his Jeep. “They’re safe and sound, and the garage crew take excellent care of them.”

“Right?” Jared agrees. “I haven’t filled my own gas tank since Lily arrived, and my truck is always spotless despite how much the two of you eat in it.”

“I… nevermind.” The instinct to chide them for taking advantage rises and falls like a wave in my chest. Technically, they are my fated mates, which makes them fated alphas, and the services here are just as much theirs as they are mine. I can hardly act like I don’t enjoy never having to clean my toilet.

We walk a little way further on, and Jared announces, “There she is!”

Sure enough, a slightly battered, gold-colored minivan sits with both sliding doors open and waiting for us to clamber inside. Jared’s sister Sasha waits nervously by the driver side door, twirling wavy black locks around her slim brown finger. Her eyes lift from her phone the second Jared’s voice reaches her, and she slides the device into her pocket as we approach.

“About time. Of course you’d leave me here staring at all these gorgeous cars, knowing I’m driving this shitbox.”

She glares at Jared, but greets the rest of us with hugs.

“Thank you for doing this,” I murmur with a squeeze.

“Of course, alpha. Whatever you need, no thanks required.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault Dad takes better care of his vehicles than Mom does,” Jared continues.

“That’s not even the half of it, and you know it. You got the truck with like, a year and twenty thousand miles on it. This thing is almost as old as you are.”

“Again, not my fault Mom hangs on to cars forever. You’re the one who said you wanted it.”

“Only because I would never dream that Dad would ditch his truck that fast. I thought you were going to be stuck with a shitty second-hand car from someone else.”

“Yeah, and you were super grateful that mom gave you the van. And now we’re all grateful that you have it, so can we get this show on the road?”

She huffs a sigh then turns resignedly toward the vehicle of contention and waves her hand forward, calling us as she walks away.

“Come on kids, climb in. Don’t forget seatbelts! And no eating in my car, Jared.”

My eyes drift to Landon who snorts.

“Makes the food in the car complaints pretty rich coming from him, doesn’t it?” Milo whispers in my ear. His warm hand presses to the small of my back, guiding me into the van.

The front has bucket seats, just like the second row. The third row is a bench, so I clamber in and claim the middle.

Jared stops short, confused. “You don’t have to sit in the middle, Lily. Even without the front we’ve got enough space for the four of us.”

“I know,” I smile back.

A confused expression crosses his face. Clearly he’d walked around the vehicle to enter from the opposite side door and ensure he got a bucket seat. Perhaps he assumed I’d take the other.

Now it seems I’ve thrown his seat calculus to the wind.

“‘Scuze me.” Milo squeezes past Jared in his indecision and claims the seat to my right, buckling in.

Landon’s eyes dart between me and Milo, and I can read the math running through his head. If he takes the remaining back seat, Jared will be in the second row alone.

With a sigh, he settles into the bucket seat and waves his hand at Jared. “Just sit down, man.”

Jared listens, buckling into the second row seat just as Sasha reaches up and presses a button above her head. The doors close automatically. “The car rules are no fighting, no switching seats while the car is in motion, and all body parts stay inside at all times. Anyone need to go potty before we leave?”

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