Page 70 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy

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"I can multitask." He crouches by the playpen. "Hey, buddy. We don't throw things at Mom, okay?"

Orry beams. Hands him a block.

Gunther takes it. Examines it like it's precious. "Thank you."

"He's bribing you."

"It's working."

I snort. Return to the counter as the door chimes.

First customer of the day: yoga mom with a toddler in tow. She needs concealer. Her kid needs to touch everything.

I help her test shades while keeping one eye on the toddler. And Orry. And Gunther, who's now stacking blocks in perfect towers for Orry to demolish.

"Your husband's good with kids," yoga mom says.

"He's not my husband."

"Oh." She looks intrigued. "Boyfriend?"

"Complicated."

"Aren't they all." She picks a shade. Pays. Leaves with a knowing smile.

I make a note to clarify relationship status. Before the whole plaza thinks we're married.

Lunchtime.I shut down the shop for thirty minutes. Heat up leftovers in the microwave tucked beside the filing cabinet.

Gunther eats a sad desk salad. I offer him half my sandwich.

"You don't have to."

"You've been working for three hours. And that salad looks like punishment."

He eyes the sandwich. Turkey, avocado, sprouts. Homemade bread. "You made this?"

"Baking calms me down." I push the plate closer. "Eat. Before I change my mind."

He takes half. Bites. Closes his eyes. "This is incredible."

"It's a sandwich."

"It'sart."

I laugh. Can't help it. "You're easy to impress."

"Only when it comes to food and spreadsheets."

Orry's in his high chair. Gumming a rice cracker. Watching us like we're dinner theater.

Gunther notices. Smiles. That damned dimple appears.

Orry mirrors it. Cracker crumbs everywhere.

"They really do look alike," I murmur.

"Yeah." Gunther's voice goes soft. "They do."

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