Page 49 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
Colum grins. "That's my girl. Gunther, didn't I tell you she's brilliant?"
Gunther nods. Still hasn't said a word.
I study him across the desk. Same glasses. Same button-up shirt. Same careful, controlled energy that feels nothing like Ridge's loose confidence.
They can't be the same person.
But that dimple. And the way he looked at Orry yesterday, like he was solving an equation that didn't add up.
"Gunther." I keep my voice light. "Colum says you're great with kids."
He blinks. "I… what?"
"Kids. You know. Small humans. Loud. Sticky."
"I don't actually… I haven't spent much time—" He stops. Regroups. "I like kids. In theory."
"In theory." I raise an eyebrow. "Very scientific."
"I mean, I'm sure they're fine. Kids. Generally."
Colum snorts into his pizza.
Orry, bored with our conversation, flings a puff at Gunther. It bounces off his glasses.
"Oh. Sorry." I lean forward to retrieve it.
"It's fine." Gunther picks up the puff. Examines it with the focus of someone defusing a bomb. "Do I give this back?"
"Nah, floor rule. Five seconds. It's been seven." I grab another puff from the container. "Here, try this. Hold it out. He'll take it from you."
Gunther extends the puff like he's offering food to a wild animal.
Orry snatches it. Stuffs it in his mouth. Giggles.
"Duh!" He points at Gunther.
"That's not my name." Gunther glances at me. "What doesduhmean?"
"Could be anything. Dude. Duck. Dummy. He's working on consonants."
"Ah." Gunther looks at Orry again. "Hello, Orry. I'm Gunther. Gun-ther."
"Duh!"
"Close enough," Colum mutters.
I bite back a smile. Watch Gunther try to pronounce his own name slowly, like Orry's going to suddenly master three syllables.
It's awkward. Dorky. Kind of endearing.
Stop that.I redirect my brain. Focus on the mission.
"So, Gunther." I tear off a bite of pizza. "How long have you lived in Poplar Springs?"
"Three years. Moved here when Colum opened the firm."
"Before that?"
