Page 78 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"Three."
"Of course you did." He leans back. Studies me. "How you feeling?"
"Terrified. Hopeful. Nauseous. Excited. All of it. Simultaneously."
"Sounds about right."
"What if—" I stop. Start again. "What if the test says he's mine?"
"Then he's yours."
"What if it says he's not?"
Colum's quiet. Then: "Is that what you want?"
"No." The word comes fast. Certain. "No. I want. I want him to be mine."
"Then I hope he is."
I nod. Swallow. "Me too."
Thursday arrives.I shower twice. Change shirts three times. Settle on a button-up that's professional but approachable. Pocket protector stays. It's who I am.
I meet Cecie at the clinic. She's in jeans and a Sparkle Beauty tee. Orry's in his stroller. He sees me and grins.
That dimple.God, please let him be mine.
"Hey," Cecie says.
"Hey."
We stand there. Awkward. She shifts her weight.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Nervous."
"Yeah. Me too."
Orry babbles. Reaches for me. I crouch. Let him grab my finger.
"Hi, buddy."
He squeals. Cecie watches. Her expression's unreadable.
"Let's get this over with," she says.
The clinic's efficient.Sterile. The tech is a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and steady hands.
"Alright, Dad. You're up first."
Dad.The word hits like a freight train.
She swabs my cheek. I hold still. It takes ten seconds. She labels the sample. Sets it aside.
"Now the little guy."
Cecie lifts Orry. He's curious. Not scared. The tech talks to him in a sing-song voice.
