Page 7 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
I need to leave. Now. Before he wakes up and we have to do the morning-after conversation neither of us signed up for.
I slide out of bed with the stealth of someone who's spent years trying not to wake a sleeping baby. The mattress doesn't even creak. Small victories.
My dress goes on inside-out the first time. I fix it, fingers fumbling with the zipper, my heart hammering so loud I'm certain it'll wake him. He doesn't stir. Just shifts slightly, his breathing deep and even.
One shoe. Found.
The other's wedged under the bed. I drop to my knees, reaching, stretching, my fingers finally closing around the heel. Got it.
Ridge makes a soft sound, and I freeze, shoe clutched to my chest like a shield.
He rolls onto his side, facing away from me.
Breathe.
My purse is on the chair by the window. I grab it, check for my phone (dead, naturally), my keys (present), my wallet (miraculously intact). Everything I need to pretend last night was just a fever dream brought on by too many jalapeño poppers and poor judgment.
The door handle is cool under my palm. I turn it slowly, carefully, easing the door open just wide enough to slip through.
The parking lot is empty except for Ridge's motorcycle and a battered sedan that looks like it's been here since the nineties. The air smells like asphalt and distant pine trees, and it's cold enough that goosebumps break out across my arms.
I don't have a jacket. Left it in my car at the Iron Horse.
Perfect.
The walk back isn't far. Maybe three miles. I've done worse in heels.
I make it to the edge of the parking lot before I hear the door to room twelve creak open.
"Sis?"
I don't turn around. Can't. If I look at him, if I see that dimple or those stupidly broad shoulders, I might do something catastrophically stupid like go back inside.
"Early start," I call over my shoulder, not breaking stride. "Thanks for the ride."
"Wait, I can?—"
But I'm already walking, my shoes clicking against the pavement, putting distance between us with every step.
He doesn't follow.
By the timeI reach the Iron Horse, my feet are screaming and I've mentally catalogued every bad decision I've made in the last twelve hours.
Agreeing to come to Colum's party: questionable but ultimately harmless.
Flirting with a hot stranger at said party: ill-advised but understandable.
Having sex with said stranger in a motel room:deeplyproblematic and completely out of character.
Sneaking out before dawn like I'm ashamed: accurate, actually.
My car's still parked near the back entrance, right where I left it. I unlock it with shaking hands and collapse into the driver's seat, my forehead resting against the steering wheel.
What the hell was I thinking?
I wasn't. That's the problem. I saw a gorgeous orc with a leather jacket and a dimple, and my brain just short-circuited. Forgot about responsibilities and consequences and the fact that I'm a single mother running a struggling business who absolutely cannot afford to complicate her life with a one-night stand.
My phone's still dead.
