Page 69 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy

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Maybe Gunther's real. Maybe he'll stay. Maybe Orry gets a father who shows up and tries and cares.

Maybe I get. Something too.

I reach for my phone. Stare at Gunther's contact info. The professional email. The work number.

Type a message.

Thanks for today. You're better at this than you think.

Hit send before I can overthink it.

His reply comes ninety seconds later.

Couldn't have done it without you. See you Monday.

I smile. Set the phone down. Sip my tea.

One month. We'll see.

Monday arriveswith the subtlety of a freight train.

I open the shop at nine. Gunther shows up at nine-oh-five carrying a messenger bag and two coffees.

"Punctual."

"I set three alarms." He offers me a cup. "Vanilla oat milk latte. Colum mentioned it's your usual."

Of course Colum mentioned it.

I take the coffee. Sip. It's perfect. "Thanks."

"Where should I set up?"

I gesture to the back office. Calling it an office is generous. It's a converted storage closet with a desk, a filing cabinet, and a window that overlooks the dumpsters. But it's private. Quiet.

Gunther doesn't complain. Just nods. Unpacks his laptop. Arranges pens in a neat line.

I watch from the doorway. "You always this organized?"

"Always." He opens a spreadsheet. "Chaos stresses me out."

"Must be hard. Living in the real world."

"You have no idea."

Orry'sin his playpen behind the counter. Surrounded by soft blocks and a stack of board books. He's figured out how to throw things and finds ithilarious.

A block sails past my head. Lands in a display of lip gloss.

"Orry. No."

He giggles. Throws another one.

I retrieve the blocks. Reset the display. Make a mental note to move the playpen.

Gunther appears. Glasses slightly crooked. "Need help?"

"You're supposed to be doing bookkeeping."

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