Page 52 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"I have one of those faces." He adjusts his glasses with his free hand. "Generic."
"You're definitely not generic."
Colum chokes on his pizza.
Gunther's cheeks flush. "I just meant. Common features. Nothing distinctive."
"Except the dimple," I say softly.
His hand goes to his cheek. Unconscious. "What about it?"
"Orry has the same one. Right side. Same placement."
The room goes very quiet. Gunther looks down at Orry. At the tiny face pressed against his chest. At the dimple that mirrors his own.
"Lots of people have dimples," he says finally.
"That's what I said." I lean forward. "But not everyone has the same eyes. Same smile. Same?—"
"Cecie." His voice cracks. "What are you asking?"
Are you Ridge?The question hovers on my tongue.Did you leave me in that hotel room? Are you Orry's father?
But I can't say it. Can't break open this moment with accusations that might be wrong.
"Nothing." I stand. "It's late. We should go."
"Wait." Gunther shifts Orry gently. "I didn't, I'm sorry if I?—"
"It's fine. Really." I reach for Orry. "Come on, baby. Time for bed."
Orry whines. Clings to Gunther's shirt.
"Hey. Mama's got you." I try to pry him loose. He wails.
"Maybe I could—" Gunther stands. "Walk you home? If it would help."
"It's next door."
"Still."
I should say no. Should take Orry and leave and put distance between us and thisfeelingbuilding in my gut.
But Orry's crying. And Gunther's looking at me with quiet desperation. And Colum's watching us both like we're his favorite reality show.
"Fine." I grab the diaper bag. "Let's go."
We walk the thirty feet to my shop entrance in silence. Gunther carries Orry, who's stopped crying and is now playing with the buttons on Gunther's shirt.
I unlock the door. Flip on the lights.
"Thanks for dinner," I say. Professional. Boundaried. Safe.
"Of course." Gunther shifts Orry. Hesitates. "Can I ask you something?"
No."Sure."
"The father. Orry's father. Is he? Do you know who he is?"
