CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Damian and Carter strode up to Carole’s apartment door together. They’d agreed not to tell her they were coming to Florida, afraid she’d have time to regroup. They wanted her moment of realization to be genuine. They wanted to see her reaction to the fact that both men knew the truth. At the very least, their alliance ought to at least frighten her into being honest. There was a damn good chance even she didn’t know whose baby it was, but they were going to find out.
“You ready?” Damian asked Carter.
“As I’ll ever be.” He rolled his shoulders beneath his sport jacket.
The kid had dressed up for the occasion. Damian glanced down at his ripped jeans and good-luck jersey and shrugged. It wasn’t like he wanted to make a good impression at the moment. As for Carter, Damian had to admire the kid for going after what he wanted, this time in an honest way.
Poor Carole wouldn’t know what hit her when Carter got down on one knee. Damian had no idea how she felt about the rookie, and though he shouldn’t care after what Carter had put him through, he couldn’t help but hope Carole would see some good in Carter and give him a chance, for her sake as well as the baby’s. No matter who the biological father turned out to be.
Damian drew a steadying breath and knocked on the door. He heard Carole’s muffled voice and then the door swung open wide.
“Damian?” Her gaze shifted to the man beside him. “Carter?” The color drained from her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”
“I take it you mean what are we doing here together?” Damian asked.
She didn’t reply, just stood and stared. Obviously she hadn’t been expecting company because she wore no makeup, a pair of baggy sweats and an oversize T-shirt that accentuated her breasts, made even larger by the pregnancy.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen her looking so…real. For the first time, Damian saw beyond the artificial persona she deliberately put on and caught a glimpse of the woman Carter had fallen in love with. For his sake, Damian hoped Carole’s heart was equally real.
“I don’t think you want to have this discussion in the hallway,” Carter said, stepping forward. He grasped her elbow. “Come on, babe. Let us inside.”
She squirmed and waved her hand, gesturing for them to enter.
Damian understood her discomfort. He felt it, too, and he stood by the window while Carter made himself comfortable on the couch.
Beside him, Carole clasped and unclasped her hands. “I can’t imagine why you’re here together,” she said, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Oh, I think you can,” Damian muttered.
“You were with both of us around the same time,” Carter said calmly. He grasped her hand. “Now I don’t hold it against you, babe. We just want to know whose baby you’re carrying.”
She blinked, as if stunned by the statement. “I told you, it’s Damian’s.” Her voice rose to a high pitch.
“Yes, you did. Unfortunately, those are just words. We need proof.”
Damian remained by the window, separated from the couple and distanced emotionally, but his heart pounded a mile a minute and his throat was raw. “We used protection,” he reminded her.
“So did we,” Carter said.
Damian paced the length of the window, turned and walked back again. “So unless you have a magic way of determining whose kid this is, we need to run a paternity test.”
“No!” She shouted the word and both men jerked their heads her way. “It’s Damian’s,” she insisted.
Damian saw the other man’s jaw clench and could practically read his mind. Once again Carter was coming in second to the almighty Damian Fuller.
“Why is it so damn important that he be the father?” Carter asked.
Carole wiped a tear from her face and then another.
Sensing she had reasons he didn’t need to hear, Damian stepped toward her. “I’m going to leave you two alone to talk. And when we’re finished, I would be grateful if you came back to New York with Carter so we can have the test done. If not, we can do it down here, but Carter would miss a game and that’s really not fair to him—or to the team. They need him.”
Shock registered on Carter’s face. Unadulterated awe. “You mean it?”
“Hell, Rookie, of course I mean it. In the last week, you’ve become more than a man I just might be able to admire one day. You’re a damn good player.” As much as Damian spoke a growing truth, he said the words for Carole’s benefit. Because she seemed leery of the notion of having Carter’s kid.
She was selling the man short, Damian thought. Not that Carter hadn’t done everything to earn the reputation, but he was changing and he deserved the benefit of the doubt.
Carole hadn’t met Damian’s gaze. “Carole?” he said.
She lifted her damp eyes.
“I mean what I said. I want that test done even if I have to get a court order to do it.”
She blinked. “Don’t do this, Damian.”
“It won’t be an issue,” Carter promised, his hand still covering hers, only now he squeezed it tight.
Damian nodded and headed for the door, trusting Carter to handle Carole. He hoped like hell his gut instinct was right and the kid not only had a good heart, but finally had grown up, too.
* * *
Carter waited until Damian walked out before turning to Carole. With no makeup and everyday clothing on, she appeared frail and vulnerable. He’d never seen her look more beautiful. It made him all the more anxious. Because if he didn’t get every word right, he’d lose her forever.
“We’re alone. So, how about you explain to me why it’s so important that Fuller be the baby’s father?” he asked.
Her hands shook as she reached for the box of tissues on the end table. “You have to understand that I didn’t set him up. I didn’t want to be pregnant.”
Carter nodded. “I understand. So…”
“He’s established. He has his career set and he’s financially more than able to provide—”
Rick felt as if he’d been sucker punched. “So that’s it? He’s got money and I don’t?”
“My mother never knew who my father was. We never knew where our next meal was coming from. Each guy she met she hoped would be Mr. Right. Most of them couldn’t put a meal on the table.” She shook her head, the tears flowing down her cheeks.
Carter swallowed hard. “I’m not as wealthy as Fuller yet, but I more than get by.”
She raised her moist gaze to his. “What if you get hurt before your first big contract? What if you have a bad season and nobody wants you or arbitration doesn’t work out?”
“What if I get hit by a bus crossing the street? Babe, life is a risk. All you can do is live it the best way you know how and be happy doing it.”
“When did you become so philosophical?” She sniffed and he pulled a tissue from the box and gently wiped her tears.
“About the time I realized I might lose you.” Carter knew he’d come this far, not just in miles, but in personal growth. He might as well risk it all. “I love you, babe. Even if the baby is Fuller’s, it’ll be okay.”
Carole stared at Ricky Carter in shocked disbelief. “Love?”
One minute her childhood poverty was rising to suffocate her and the next minute this man was trying to make her fears disappear. But as much as he tried, he couldn’t do the one thing she needed, and that was guarantee her she wouldn’t end up alone and on welfare, reliving her mother’s unstable life.
“Yeah. Somehow, during all this, I ended up falling in love with you. And let’s face it, we are alike enough to make this work.”
“Two peas in a pod?”
He nodded, his dimples showing as he smiled. “Listen, babe, we’re both driven. We’re both not above using other people to get what we want. You knew this baby could be mine and you would have passed it off as Fuller’s.”
She winced as he laid out her sins. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“And I never meant to hurt you when I called the papers and told them Damian was going to be a daddy. I was just so angry he was getting something else I wanted again—”
“You told the papers? Something else you wanted? I don’t know which statement makes me angrier. That you’d betray me or—”
“In the heat of the moment,” he said, his eyes downcast, his remorse seemingly honest.
“Or that you think I’m a possession to be had by you or Damian!”
He shook his head and laughed, taking her off guard.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re doing the same damn thing with that unborn baby. You’re using it as a possession to give to Damian or whomever you think is the best father at this moment. Like I said, we’re alike. Similarly driven. So let’s turn all that energy towards one another—and the baby—instead. What do you say?”
Inside, Carole was shaking, her stomach in knots, nausea rising up her throat. “Did you forget that there’s a fifty percent chance the baby’s Damian’s?” she said, admitting a truth she could no longer deny.
“Not at all. But let me lay out a few facts for you.”
She drew her tongue over her dry lips.
“First, even if Damian’s the father, he has no intention of marrying you.”
Her stomach cramped at his words. “You can’t know that for sure.”
“He told me, and if you ask him outright, he’ll tell you the same thing. Oh, he’ll do right by you and pay you so you and the baby are comfortable, but you are never going to be a family.”
She swallowed hard, unable to reply.
“Unlike Fuller, I plan on marrying you whether or not the kid is mine. I plan on supporting you and your baby regardless, and I plan on giving you the family you’re looking for. Want to know why?”
“Why?” she whispered.
He took her hand again, his touch warm and reassuring. “Because like I said, I love you.” He squeezed her fingers. “But you’re scared and I don’t expect you to be able to deal with all this right now. So let’s take it one step at a time.”
Carole rose, but the blood rushed from her head and she grew so dizzy she had to sit once more.
He pushed her head downward between her legs. “Relax and breathe,” Carter instructed her.
She did as she was told and slowly she began to feel better. “I’m okay,” she mumbled.
“Sit up nice and slowly.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “I’m better. Thanks.”
“I’ll take care of you, babe. I promise. Now how about we take that test?” He reached behind him and pulled an airline ticket out of his pocket. “We can be on the 5:00 p.m. tonight.”
She grasped his hand, suddenly seeing him as her only lifeline. It didn’t matter that she loved him, too, and always had. Love had never been enough to make any of her mother’s men stick around.
Why should she be any luckier?
* * *
Thanks to a bad head cold, Micki stayed home from work. When boredom set in and she couldn’t stop thinking about Damian’s trip to Florida, she began cleaning her apartment, tackling junk drawers, cabinets and closets. With the amount of garbage she’d collected, the dust bunnies did nothing to help her already stuffed nose and itchy throat. She was surrounded by junk and completely miserable when the doorbell rang.
She sniffed, grabbed a tissue and headed for the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Roper.”
She let her friend inside. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“And a welcome to you, too. I called the office to see if I could take you for lunch and they said you were out of the office today. I figured you could use some company, what with Damian being in Florida and all.”
Micki scowled. “You’re subtle as ever, John. I’m not home wallowing. I’m sick.”
He studied her intently. “Red nose, no makeup…Yep, you’re sick.” He headed for the kitchen and picked up the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Ordering you the best chicken soup in Manhattan. Luckily, they deliver.” He called in the order and, since the thought of hot soup sliding down her raw throat was heavenly, she didn’t argue.
They settled into her den. Micki grabbed an afghan blanket and wrapped it around herself to keep warm. “So why are you really here? Is it because you think with Damian off talking to Carole, I’d be a basket case?”
Roper chuckled. “You said it, I didn’t. Have you heard from him?”
She shook her head. “And I don’t plan to.” She glanced down. “It’s over,” she told her best friend.
“Because?”
“Baby or no baby, Damian lives a lifestyle that has no room for commitment. And I want that.” She blew her nose into a tissue. “I want someone who can balance a career and a family.”
John leaned forward in his seat. “And you think Damian doesn’t want that? With all the changes in his life at the moment, I’d think some stability would be nice right now.”
She shook her head. “He’s overwhelmed with the paternity thing. If it’s his, he’s going to have his hands full adding a baby to his list of responsibilities, which he admits he has trouble prioritizing.”
“And if it isn’t his kid?”
Micki let out a laugh. “Come on. You know him pretty well. He’ll be so damn relieved he’s off the hook, he’s going to return to focusing on what’s left of his career. He’s certainly not going to do a one-eighty and want a serious commitment when he’s just escaped one.”
“Says you.”
“Says logic, common sense, and I’d bet Damian, if you asked him,” Micki argued. She’d thought these issues through long and hard. Her conclusions hurt, but they made perfect sense.
“If I asked him he’d say he couldn’t have gotten through any of this without your support. The man needed you.”
Micki cringed at her friend’s words.
“What? What’d I say?” Roper asked, obviously reading her expression.
She stretched her legs out in front of her. Her body ached and she wondered if maybe she had the flu. “You nailed the other thing I’ve been thinking about. My whole life, I’ve always been taken care of. First by my parents, then by Annabelle and Uncle Yank. I’ve always needed other people. For the first time, someone needed me. Once Damian has his answer, once he knows whose baby it is, he’s not going to need me anymore.”
“All your clients need your expert advice and spin on a situation. You must know it’s true, otherwise you wouldn’t be as successful as you are.” He ran a hand through his neatly combed hair, a sure sign Micki was confusing him.
“It’s not the same thing as with the people who hire me.” Something special existed between Micki and Damian, something that transcended a client-publicist relationship.
Someone she cared about had relied on her for a change. Losing him saddened her because she’d grown used to the way he’d come to need her and she liked knowing he looked to her as someone important in his life, someone he could trust with his deepest secrets. She’d spent a lot of time lately trying to come to terms with the fact that that part of her life was over.
Roper let out an exasperated sound. “Well if it makes you feel any better, I still need you,” he said, treating her to his endearing grin.
The man obviously still didn’t get it, which was just as well. She didn’t need him psychoanalyzing her at the moment. She sneezed.
“Bless you.” Roper stood. “I really should get going before I catch whatever it is you’ve got. I don’t want to miss the autism benefit at the Pierre tomorrow night. Are you going to be up to it?”
She nodded. “After all the work Sophie and I put into it to pull it off, you’d better believe I’ll be there. The Renegades will get some extremely positive press from this.”
“And we’re playing so well, ticket sales are up anyway. It’s all good,” Roper said. “But you need to rest up.”
“After my soup gets here, I could use a nap,” she admitted.
“Feel better,” he said as she walked him to the door.
“Thanks.”
“And cut Damian some slack. The guy’s been through hell, but it doesn’t mean things are over between the two of you.”
Micki ignored him. She’d already said goodbye to Damian in the place it counted most. Her heart.
* * *
The ballroom in the Pierre hotel sparkled as much as the celebrities who were attending the benefit in their designer gowns and jewels. Considering the money laid out per plate for this event, everybody had pulled out their finest formal wear. Even Micki had purchased a new gown.
The light pink chiffon complimented her skin tone, or so the lady at Saks Fifth Avenue had told her. Unfortunately, she had no place in the strapless gown to hide tissues and so she’d loaded up on Benadryl in an effort to dry herself out. She couldn’t speak without sounding like a frog and her head felt like it was about to explode.
A trip to the doctor this afternoon had resulted in the diagnosis of a sinus infection and so she was on antibiotics as well, but she still wasn’t about to miss this big event.
After checking on a few things, Micki headed for the bar and asked for a glass of ice water.
“You’d better make sure no one spikes your drink,” a familiar voice said.
Micki drew her shoulders back and turned to face Rick Carter. “Long time no see. I’m sorry I can’t say I missed you,” she said to the man who’d started her roller-coaster affair with Damian Fuller.
Carter inclined his head. “I’m sorry for changing your drink order that night. I’m sorry for a lot of things,” he said.
She narrowed her gaze. “You look like the Carter I know, but you don’t sound like him.” She knew his situation with Carole had to have changed how he viewed life, but considering how he’d treated Micki in the past, she wasn’t about to give him the benefit of the doubt so easily.
“I don’t blame you for hating me. I just wanted to say I was sorry and maybe one day we can get past it and be friends?”
She nodded warily. “Apology accepted.” She’d been taught manners, after all. “As for the future, you’ll understand if I reserve judgment.”
“Fair enough.” He started to walk away and paused. “I really am trying to turn over a new leaf. Even if that paternity test doesn’t name me—”
“You took the test already?” Micki asked, stunned.
“We sure did, though it takes two weeks to get the results.”
“I see.”
She knew Damian had gone to Florida with Carter, but she hadn’t known the result of their discussion. She certainly had no idea they’d all taken tests. Because she hadn’t returned his calls, Micki thought. Instead she’d had her secretary keep her up to date on anything Damian needed professionally, and there’d been nothing. So how could she have known?
“Well, good luck. I hope things turn out the way you want them to.”
He inclined his head. “Thanks for that.”
He walked away, leaving Micki alone with her ice water and stuffy nose. Her head hurt badly. As long as things here were under control, she might as well tell Sophie she was heading home.
Micki looked around for her sister and finally spotted her red dress across the room. She started toward Sophie when a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Going somewhere?” Damian asked.
Micki stepped back and looked into his dark gaze. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“Why not? All the Renegades were on the invitation list.”
She shrugged. “I know. I just thought…you wouldn’t be in the mood for a party.”
“I’m not. But (a) it’s for a good cause, (b) you put the event together and (c) I knew you’d be here. Any one of those reasons works for me.”
His grin turned her insides into a mushy mess. “Well, thanks for coming, but I was just leaving.”
His smile quickly faded. “Why the rush? I was hoping to talk to you.”
As much as she’d love to spend more time with him, Micki had already decided to protect her heart. “I’m not feeling well. Why don’t you call me?”
“Because you don’t answer my messages. Come on, one dance. We’ll talk and then you can go home and take care of that cold,” he said, his voice gruff and just short of pleading.
Before she could reply, he grabbed her hand and led her out to the dance floor. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, his body flush with hers.
Her back tingled where his palm rested. “You don’t want to get too close. You’ll catch my cold.”
“I’m not worried. So, how’s your uncle doing?” he asked, his breath warm against her ear. His body moved in a graceful glide around the dance floor, sweeping her along with him.
“He’s fine. Driving people in the rehab place nuts, but he shouldn’t be out of commission too long.”
Damian nodded. “That’s good. I’ll get by to see him this week.”
“He’d like that.”
“And the merger?” he whispered the private words so no one else could overhear.
She shook her head. “Slow as you’d expect with Spence and Uncle Yank pulling from opposite ends. They’ll run up hefty lawyer bills, but it’ll get done.”
He chuckled, the low rumble of laughter in his chest reverberating against her. “And his eyesight?”
“He doesn’t complain. He never did. I think he’s too busy hiding how he really feels.”
Damian raised his hand, still in a brace. “I can definitely relate to his situation,” he muttered.
“Any improvement?” she asked, gently touching his hand.
“Not considering how long it’s been immobilized. I’ve had some physical therapy, too. It’s August and the play-offs are in sight for September. I just don’t know if I’ll be playing in them.”
He sounded resigned, but more accepting than she’d heard him before. She wondered what, if anything, had changed in his mind, but decided not to ask. She couldn’t keep her distance if she let herself get wrapped up in his emotions.
They continued to move together in rhythm. He intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled her hand tighter against his chest. The gesture felt intimate somehow and, despite herself, Micki trembled.
“We took the paternity tests,” Damian said, breaking the silence.
She nodded. “Carter told me.”
“I’d have told you myself if you’d returned my calls. Carole is not happy. For some reason I can’t fathom, she wants this kid to be mine.”
“Good genes?” She strove for a lighthearted laugh.
“All I care about is whether you like what’s in my jeans.” He treated her to the sexy wink she adored.
“Maybe that’s the problem,” she murmured. “I like it too much.”
His heartbeat slow and steady, both soothing and arousing, reminded her of all she couldn’t have. Suddenly she jerked away from his warm body and solid hold, not caring if she drew attention, just needing to escape from all that she could never really have.
“We had our one last time,” she said. Then Micki ran for the door before she changed her mind and indulged in another.