Page 127 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"Smiling. At Orry."
"That's." He swallows. "That's early. She's only three weeks old."
"I know."
We stand there like we've stumbled on something sacred. Orry sticks his tongue out again, adding a ridiculous noise this time. Mara's tiny mouth twitches. Curves upward into something unmistakable.
A full, genuine smile.
Orry squeals with delight, bouncing on his knees. "She happy! Daddy, Mama, she happy!"
"Because of you, buddy," I manage, my throat tight.
He does it again. Tongue out. Cross-eyed. Adds a hand wiggle for good measure.
Mara giggles.
An actual, honest-to-god baby giggle. Bubbly and surprised and perfect.
"Oh my god," I whisper, covering my mouth with both hands.
Gunther's already got his phone out, recording with shaking hands. "This is going in the baby book. This exact moment."
"The spreadsheet baby book?"
"The real one. I started a real one." He doesn't take his eyes off them. "Last week. Got one of those fancy ones with prompts and pockets for photos."
"You're crying."
"Shut up. You're crying too."
We are. Both of us standing there like absolute fools, tears streaming while our son entertains our daughter with the kind of pure, unselfconscious joy that only toddlers possess.
Orry keeps going, encouraged by success. Making faces. Sounds. Little dances with his hands. Mara giggles every single time, her whole face lighting up like he's the most entertaining thing she's ever seen.
Which, to be fair, he probably is.
"Best big brother," I say again, and this time Gunther squeezes my hand in agreement.
Six weeks in,we venture outside.
The plaza's hosting a spring market—Colum's idea, naturally, because of course it is. He'd cornered us three days ago with that particular gleam in his eye that meant he was about to make our lives simultaneously easier and more complicated.
"You don't have to come," he'd said, leaning against my doorframe like he owned it. Which, technically, he did. "But people have been asking about you. Lots of people."
I'd crossed my arms. "People or reporters?"
"Both?" He'd had the decency to look sheepish. "Maybe a few lifestyle bloggers too. The wholesome kind."
Gunther had wanted to stay home, obviously. He'd made a very detailed list of reasons why venturing into public was premature, citing Mara's feeding schedule, Orry's unpredictable nap windows, and the statistical likelihood of viral photography.
I'd convinced him anyway.
"We can't hide forever," I'd said, watching him adjust his glasses for the fourth time in as many minutes.
"We can absolutely try."
"Orry needs fresh air. So do I. Mara needs to experience something other than our living room walls." I'd softened my voice. "And honestly? I need to prove to myself we can do this. Just. Be a normal family. In public."
