Page 94 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy

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"I know."

"I don't want to screw this up."

"You won't."

"You can't know that."

"I know you'retrying. That counts for a lot."

He looks at me. Something raw in his expression. "Does it?"

"Yeah."

Orry grabs for the tablet. Gunther redirects him with a teething ring from his bag. Because of course he has a teething ring in his bag now. And wipes. And probably a backup onesie and emergency snacks and a laminated list of pediatrician numbers.

He's all in. Completely. Terrifyingly all in.

"Okay," I say. "Show me the schedule."

We go through it. Section by section. He's thorough. Thought of everything. Morning routines. Nap schedules. Mealpreferences. Emergency contacts. Backup plans for the backup plans.

"What about holidays?" I ask.

"Tab three."

I swipe. There's a tab labeledSpecial Occasions & Cultural Milestones. Complete with a sub-section for birthday planning and another forPotential Future Siblings.

My coffee goes down wrong. "Future siblings?"

His face flushes crimson. "That's. That's aspirational. I wasn't. I didn't mean we would. I just meant in case. Hypothetically. If.Ifsomeone. Either of us. Had another?—"

"Gunther."

"I'm deleting it."

"Don't."

"It's presumptuous."

"It's sweet."

"It's mortifying."

"Little bit of both." I smile. Can't help it. "But we can table that discussion for. Later."

"Much later."

"Decades later."

"Agreed."

Orry yawns. Nestles into Gunther's chest. Tiny fist curling into the whale-print fabric.

"He likes you," I say quietly.

"I like him." Gunther strokes Orry's hair. Gentle. "More than like. I. I love him. Is that. Is it okay to say that? I know I've only known for sure since yesterday but?—"

"It's okay."

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