He ran a hand over his face. "I'm a freaking mess," he admitted, meeting her gaze. "My wrist hurts every time I pick up or hit the ball. It doesn't matter how well I'm playing, I've got to live with the fact that it's taking everything out of me just to get through every game. Then I've got Carole who I can't even begin to believe, but I can't afford not to."
"Go on," she said, softly.
He swallowed but his mouth tasted like pitcher's mound dirt. "If the kid is mine, what the hell kind of father will I make?" he asked, voicing his fears aloud for the first time.
To Micki. Which proved to him that keeping her by his side was necessary to his sanity.
She covered his hand with hers. "If it comes to that, you'll make the best kind of dad."
"When you say it, I can almost believe it," he said, forcing a laugh.
"You should." Light danced in her eyes for the first time all evening. "Didn't you say your father was amazing? We learn by example, so what makes you think you'll be any different?"
He turned her hand over and looked at the fragile skin on her wrist."You're amazing," he said, gratitude and something warm he didn't want to examine too closely filling his chest.
Without warning, she jerked her hand back. "I'm just stating the facts," she said, putting distance between them once more.
He didn't have to guess why. He was a man with baggage and risks, and as much as he wanted to bury himself inside her and forget his problems, that would only add one more complication to an already screwed-up mess.
“There's something I want you to consider," Micki said.
"What's that?"
She twisted her hands together, a sure sign he wouldn't like her request. "I grew up orphaned."
He nodded. "I know."
"And I believe that in the best of all possible worlds, a baby should have both parents around. If the baby is yours, you need to consider marrying Carole and giving the child a real family."
Her voice broke on the word family. So did his heart. In all his thinking, he'd forgotten that Micki had been raised by her bachelor uncle. She'd missed out on parents in her life and obviously she still felt that loss.
Damian breathed deeply and leaned forward in his seat. "I understand where you're coming from but you need to understand that this isn't all about me not wanting to marry Carole. It's about the baby, too. Sometimes you can do a child a bigger favor by not raising it in a home where there is no love or caring."
She spread her hands wide. "I don't know."
"Growing up, didn't you have everything you needed in your untraditional home with your uncle, Lola and your sisters?"
She nodded.
"So I guess you need to consider that by not marrying Carole, I may still be doing right by this baby."
"If it's yours."
"If it's mine," he agreed and hoped with everything in him that Carole had been as unfaithful as he suspected.
He glanced out the window and realized they were close to his sister's house where his entire family waited. "There's just one more thing." Something that had been weighing on his mind.
''What's that?"
He placed an arm behind her head and leaned close enough to smell the scent of her skin. His groin ached with the need to bury himself deep inside her and thrust hard and fast until the outside world disappeared and all that remained was them.
Instead he cleared his throat and forced himself to remain focused. "I appreciate you agreeing to stay by my side." He owed her his thanks and probably much more.
He turned his head and his lips touched the side of her neck. When she didn't push him away, he let his mouth skim her soft flesh. Just for a moment, he promised himself. No more.
He grasped her arm and raised it to press a gentle kiss on her exposed flesh there, letting his tongue linger. He didn't know if it was his words or his touch that got to her but she trembled and a soft sigh escaped from the back of her throat. She wore a soft T-shirt that gathered in the middle, accentuating her breasts, and her nipples puckered beneath his gaze. She pivoted toward him and just as he thought her lips would touch his, the car jerked to a sudden stop.
"We're here." She jumped back, obviously shaken by what had almost transpired between them.
He clamped down on his disappointment, telling himself the interruption was for the best.
She straightened her top and fussed with her hair. "So how do you feel about explaining yourself to your sisters?" she asked in an obvious scramble for conversation.
"I don't relish the idea of discussing my stupidity or my sex life with my sisters and my parents any more than I enjoyed revealing it to you." He reached for the handle at the same time the driver opened and held the door for them. "But I got myself into this mess and my family deserves to know what's going on, so…I'll let them skewer me."
She glanced down. "You know, I do admire how you're facing up to all this."
"Thanks" he said, surprised. He reached out and tipped her chin upward.
He took in her flushed cheeks and pouty glossed lips and curled his hands into fists to keep from kissing her. Really kissing her this time.
He knew he had to focus on less pleasant tasks right now. Like facing the firing squad he called his family.
MICKI WOULD FEEL A LOT BETTER about herself if the kiss hadn't happened because she hadn't let it, not because of the fortuitous timing of their arrival. Thank God they'd reached their destination or else she'd probably be kicking herself for letting him kiss her. For kissing him back. And for allowing him to do whatever else to her in the back seat of the limo despite her promise to herself to keep her distance.
Now, introductions behind them, Damian sat next to Micki in the family room of his sister Brenda's house and took his punishment like a man. Apparently in his family, punishment meant a grilling by all interested parties.
Beside her, Damian clenched his fists, and sucking up the embarrassment, he let the questions fly.
His father paced the floor in front of Damian's seat on the couch. "Sum it up in a nutshell," Mike Fuller said in the same tone Micki could imagine him using with his kids when they'd screwed up during their youth.
"A woman I used to see claims she's pregnant and I'm the father."
"Claims?" His mother jumped on the uncertainty.
Damian nodded. "I'll be checking out both parts of her statement"
"So the baby might not be yours?" Ronnie asked.
"Or she might not even be pregnant," Brenda said confidently.
"All possibilities, I suppose. As much as I don't want this baby to be mine, I'd hate to think she'd outright lie about something like this"
"With your finances, that's the first thing you need to consider" His father stopped and shoved his hands in his front pants pockets. "Didn't I teach you to use protection each and every time?"
Micki felt her cheeks heat up and flush at the older man's frank talk.
"I used protection," he said, looking his father in the eye. "Each and every time."
As he had with her, Micki recalled. Each and every time.
His father nodded, relieved. "Well that's something "
Her uncle had said the same thing.
"Maybe the condom broke," Rhonda offered.
"Three kids, only thirteen months apart. You ought to know," Marissa said.
"Leave your sister alone," Marissa's husband Dan said, jumping in only to call his wife off. "Ours are eighteen months apart so I don't know why you're giving Rhonda a hard time," he said with a wry smile.
Ronnie snickered.
Marissa nudged her husband in the side. "Spoilsport." But she spoke in a teasing tone.
Micki couldn't suppress a smile at the byplay among the family members. She, Annabelle and Sophie could always go at one another given the slightest provocation but at the heart of all the needling in her family was a basic love and respect. Micki sensed the same thing here.