Page 116 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"You look beautiful."
"I look like I swallowed a basketball."
"Asmallbasketball." She smooths a wrinkle near my hip. "And you're glowing."
"That's sweat."
"Cecelia."
I meet her eyes in the mirror. She's wearing lavender. Hair done. Lipstick perfect. The same woman who cried when I told her about Orry, then showed up three days later with a crib and a lecture about safe sleep practices.
"Thanks for being here," I say.
"Where else would I be?"
"I don't know. Somewhere with fewer orcs."
She laughs. Soft. "Your stepfather's getting along fine with Gunther's family. He's asked seventeen questions about tusk maintenance."
"Oh god."
"It's sweet. In a bizarre way." She adjusts my veil. "Are you happy?"
The question sits between us. Real. Heavy.
"Yeah," I say. "I really am."
"Then that's all that matters."
A knock. The door cracks. My father's face appears.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Almost."
He steps in. Grey suit. Nervous smile. We've been rebuilding things slowly. Phone calls. Lunches. Him showing up to hold Orry while I restocked shelves.
"You look. Wow." He blinks. "Like your mother on our wedding day."
Mom's mouth tightens. But she nods. "She does."
"Thanks, Dad."
"Gunther's out there. Pacing. Colum threatened to tie him to a chair."
"Sounds about right."
"He's a good man, Sis."
"I know."
"And those tusks. Very distinguished."
"Dad."
He grins. Offers his arm. "Shall we?"
I take it. Mom kisses my cheek. Slips out to find her seat.
