Page 34 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy

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Instead, I'm frozen, watching Gunther's face cycle through approximately twelve emotions in three seconds.

Orry pats his cheek again.

"Same," he repeats, pleased with himself.

Gunther's hand comes up, slowly, carefully, like he's approaching a wild animal, and gently removes Orry's fingers from his face.

But he doesn't let go.

Just holds Orry's tiny hand in his much larger one, staring at it like it contains the secrets of the universe.

The junior analyst in the cat-eye glasses leans over to her neighbor. Whispers something.

They both glance at us.

Oh God. This is happening in public.

"Okay!" I say, too loud. "We're going. Orry needs a nap. Or a diaper change. Or something. Bye!"

I spin on my heel.

Gunther's voice stops me.

"Wait."

I don't turn around.

Can't.

If I look at him, I'll see the question forming. And I don't have an answer. Not one I'm ready to give in the middle of a financial office with half a dozen people pretending not to eavesdrop.

"Cecie."

My name sounds different in his mouth. Careful. Like he's testing the weight of it.

I force myself to turn.

Gunther's still holding Orry's hand. His expression is?—

Devastated.

No. That's not right.

Hopeful.

No. Not that either.

Terrified.

Yeah. That's it.

He's terrified.

Same as me.

"I—" Gunther swallows. "I think we should talk."

"About what?" My voice is steady. A miracle.

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