Page 45 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
Orry saves us both by letting out a delighted squeal. He's discovered the drawer of sample packets and is currently trying to shove three sheet masks into his mouth at once. His new crawling skills has him all over the place.
"Orry!" I dart around the counter. Extract soggy packaging from baby fists. "These aren't snacks."
"Muh!" He protests. Lunges for the drawer again.
"How about arealsnack?" I pull a packet of baby puffs from my apron. "Look. Actual food."
He considers this. Accepts a puff. Stuffs it in his mouth and grins up at me, dimple on full display.
When I glance at Gunther, he's staring at Orry with an expression I can't quite parse. Longing? Sadness?Recognition?
"He's very…" Gunther trails off. Tries again. "Energetic."
"Nine months of pure chaos." I brush crumbs off Orry's shirt. "But yeah. He keeps me on my toes."
"Do you—" Gunther stops. Adjusts his glasses. "Do you manage alone? I mean. Is there. Does he have?—"
Here it comes.The question everyone wants to ask but most people dance around.
"It's just us," I say simply. Keep my voice even. "We're doing fine."
Gunther's jaw tightens. He looks like he wants to say something else but can't figure out how to form the words.
Orry solves the problem by reaching up toward Gunther with puff-sticky hands. "Up!"
"Oh. I don't—" Gunther freezes. Looks at me for permission.
"He's friendly." I shrug. "Fair warning, you'll be covered in crumbs."
Gunther crouches. Orry immediately crawls to him and pats his face, leaving orange fingerprints on his glasses.
"Sorry." I move to intervene.
"It's fine." Gunther's voice comes out rough. He stays very still while Orry explores his face with the focused intensity of a tiny scientist.
Orry finds Gunther's dimple. Pokes it. Giggles.
Then pokes his own.
My stomach drops.
Gunther goes pale. His hand comes up, hovers near Orry's cheek like he's scared to touch. "He has?—"
"A dimple. Yeah." I scoop Orry up, heart pounding. "Lots of people have dimples."
"On the right side. Same placement. Same?—"
"Gunther." I hitch Orry higher on my hip. "Did you need something specific? Because I have inventory to finish."
He stands. Backs up a step. "No. I just. I wanted to—" He stops. Shakes his head. "Sorry for interrupting."
He leaves. Fast. The door chimes behind him.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Orry squirms. "Down!"
"Yeah. Okay." I set him on the mat. Hand him Mr. Grunt. Lean against the counter and try to organize my thoughts into something coherent.
