Page 50 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"Different city. Same kind of work." He adjusts his glasses. "Why?"
"Just curious. Making conversation." I keep my tone casual. "Ever hang out at that bar on Fifth? The one with the terrible lighting and good cocktails?"
His expression doesn't change. "I don't go to bars much."
"Not even for celebrations? Office parties?"
"Sometimes. But I usually leave early."
Liar.The thought comes swift and certain. Because someone who leaves early doesn't end up sweaty and laughing in a hotel room at two AM.
Unless he's telling the truth. Unless I'm imagining connections that don't exist.
Orry squirms. I set him on the floor with Mr. Grunt and a handful of puffs. He immediately crawls toward Gunther's chair.
"Orry, no. Come back." I move to grab him.
"It's okay." Gunther shifts his legs to give Orry space. "He's fine."
Orry pulls himself up using Gunther's pant leg. Stands there wobbling, proud of his vertical achievement.
He raises his arms.
Gunther freezes. Looks at me.
"You don't have to," I say quickly.
"I want, I mean. If it's okay."
I nod.
He reaches down. Lifts Orry with careful, deliberate movements. Settles him on his knee.
Orry pats Gunther's face. Finds his glasses. Tries to yank them off.
"Gentle." Gunther catches the tiny hands. "These help me see."
"See!" Orry parrots.
"Yes. See." Gunther bounces his knee slightly. Orry squeals with delight.
And there…thereGunther smiles. Unguarded. Genuine. A dimple flashing deep in his right cheek.
My chest tightens.
"You're good at this." The words come out before I can stop them.
Gunther glances up. "At what?"
"The whole baby thing. For someone who doesn't have experience."
"He's easy." Gunther looks down at Orry. "Happy kid."
"Most of the time. You should hear him at three AM."
"Teeth?"
"Teeth. Nightmares. General rage at the universe." I lean back in my chair. "Single parenting's no joke."
