"I'll have what he's having," Carter said to the bartender and slid into the seat next to Damian.

"Of all the bars in Manhattan you had to choose this one?" Damian asked.

The other man shrugged. "What can I say? The Blue Season seemed to fit my mood."

That surprised Damian. “Things didn't go well back at the doctor?"

"Depends what you mean. Is the baby mine? Yeah." And at the admission, a wide grin spread over Carter's face. "Is Carole thrilled with the fact? Couldn't tell you. She's not interested in some big love story. In fact she thinks I deserve better than her. How's that for a laugh? If you ask me, we're so damn alike we deserve each other." With that, he finished his scotch in a few healthy gulps.

Damian burst out laughing. "I couldn't have said it better myself." But he felt for the guy. Damian gestured for another round.

"So what's with you?" Carter asked. "I thought you'd be celebrating your escape. Instead you look like a guy on a bender."

Damian stared into the golden liquid. "Go figure," he muttered. "Because I sure as hell can't."

"Don't tell me you're disappointed with the results." Carter sounded appalled at the notion.

With a shrug, Damian took another gulp of the fiery drink. "Like you said, depends on what you mean. Am I happy I'm not the father of Carole's kid? Hell, yeah." He shot a glance Carter's way. "No offense intended."

"None taken."

"But are you looking at a happy man right now? Hell, no. The thing of it is, I have no idea why I'm not celebrating."

"I'm younger than you and I've done my share of stupid things, but I can still look at you and answer that question. It just depends if you want to hear what I have to say."

"Why not? It's not like I have any answers." Damian leaned on one elbow and stared into the eyes of the rookie, the kid poised to take his place on the team.

Damian had accepted that now. He glanced down at his aching, braced wrist. He'd had no choice. "So what's your take on my life?"

"You're looking at the end of your career and you hate it," Carter said, shoving his chair back and himself out of Damian's reach as he spoke.

Damian chuckled. "I'm not going to hit you."

"I'm not taking any chances."

"Go on,"

Carter paused for a drink first. "Maybe you got used to the idea of having a kid. In general, you know? Not Carole's kid but one of your own. Maybe you thought it'd fill the void when you weren't playing anymore."

"What the fuck are you, a shrink? I've never once considered the end of my career and I never thought about having kids,"

"Not consciously but what about unconsciously?" Carter asked.

"You mean subconsciously."

The kid shrugged. "That, too."

Damian wiped a hand over his face and groaned. "I need air."

"What'd she say about you not being the father?" Carter asked, ignoring him.

"Who?"

Carter drew a deep breath and looked at Damian warily. "The hot little publicist, that's who"

Damian shot to his feet and pulled Carter up by his shirt at the same time. "You talk about her like that again and you're a dead man.”

Carter held his hands up in front of him. "You said you wouldn't hit me."

"I changed my mind."

He shook his head. "Whoa, man. Who'd have thought a stab in the dark would pay off? Look, Captain, anyone with eyes can see she means something to you. Except maybe you." This time Carter actually ducked and headed for the door.

"Good reflexes," Damian called out to him, laughing despite himself.

"Youth," Carter called back from the doorway of the bar. "No offense."

"None taken."

If only Damian could dismiss the rookie's pop psychology as easily.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Damian's life was a mess. He needed fatherly advice and for the first time, he couldn't go to his own dad because his whole family was so thrilled about the baby being Carter's, they couldn't see past it to the deeper issues driving Damian insane. There was only one man Damian could trust with his emotions and that was the same man he'd entrusted with his career right from the beginning.

He strode into the rehab facility, an expensive establishment that Damian felt certain Yank must hate. The older man would despise feeling useless, needing help getting around, relying on other people. Man, Damian could relate.

At a large window, he asked where to find Yank Morgan's room and followed the instructions until he walked off the elevator on Yank's floor, then followed the arrows to his room. As usual, when it came to Yank, Damian was surprised by what greeted him there.

A yellow warning ribbon, reminiscent of police tape,had been wrapped across his door, blocking the entrance. A large sign had been taped to the door, which read Enter at Your Own Risk, Nasty PITA Inside.

Damian howled with laughter at the blatant description of Yank as a Pain In The Ass.

"Who's out there?" Yank called from inside his room.

Damian ducked beneath the tape and joined Yank by the chair in which he sat "What'd you do to piss off the nurses?" Damian asked, still chuckling. "Hell, don't you know if you're sweet to these ladies they'll be sneaking you extra dessert?" He pulled up a seat, straddling it backward as he made himself comfortable.

"It's not their attention I want" Yank muttered.

Damian nodded in understanding. So Lola had bailed on him. "Why don't you just ask her to come see you?"

Yank shot him a scowl and pulled the blanket covering his legs up higher over his Burberry pajamas. Obviously his nieces had been spoiling him even if the nurses here hadn't been.

"She wants me to grovel. I love you, Lola. I'm sorry, Lola," Yank said in a pretty damn good imitation of the woman.

Damian did his best not to laugh. "I don't see your pride taking good care of you right now, so why not go ahead and do what she wants? At least then you'll both be happy."

"For how long? How happy is she gonna be cutting my food when I can't see?"

Damian exhaled aloud. He understood now how frustrated Micki, Sophie and Annabelle must feel around the older man. "Why don't you let her make that decision?" Even as he asked, Damian knew the answer. "You're afraid after all these years, she'll turn you down. That's it, isn't it?"

Damian found himself staring into blue eyes similar to Micki's. Yank gave him a quick nod, then averted his gaze, obviously embarrassed.

"You can't end up any worse off man you are now, right?"

He waved a dismissive hand. "I'm tired of talking about me. What's going on with you?"

Damian knew that was the end of discussing Yank's personal life. He'd come here for fatherly advice and now was the time to spill. He glanced down at the floor, unsure of where to begin. "Since the time I was a kid, my whole life has centered around baseball. I've seen the end coming for a while now but I refused to admit it. I ignored all the signs. But rehab's not working, cortisone shots aren't helping the hand, and the team doesn't need me hanging on for selfish reasons when they could use another player on the roster."

Yank placed a hand on Damian's shoulder. "So what are you sayin'?"

"I met with Coach and told him I think I'm through. The doctors can't promise a return this season." The words were as painful now as they had been a few days ago.

“I’m proud of you for makin' the decision. If you're ready, I'll get working on the details of retirement and the contract issues."

Damian nodded. "What about the endorsements I already do?"

"I'll take care of everything. Don't you worry, okay?'

"Yeah. Thanks." He glanced up. "What the hell am I going to do now?"

Yank gestured around the room. "Come join me for a daily card game?"

"No thanks," Damian said wryly.

"You do realize we're alike, you and I."

Damian cocked his head to one side. "Other than a bum body that doesn't want to do what we tell it to do, how so?"

"Have you spoken to Micki lately?"

Damian's nerve endings went on instant alert "She's not taking my calls at the moment. Since issuing that press release, she's declared our business relationship over and reassigned me. Apparently Annabelle's working part-time now and technically she's more familiar with the workings of the Renegades," he said, quoting Micki's secretary who'd been quoting her boss.

She'd handed him over to her sister like yesterday's news and if he thought ending his active career was painful, Micki's withdrawal hurt just as badly.

Yank glanced at him, tapping a finger against his bearded cheek. "My Micki did that?"

"She did,"

"What'd you do?" Yank asked, suddenly angry and defensive.

Damian held up both hands. "I didn't do a damn thing. She just suddenly decided to treat me like dirt."

"Same thing Lola did to me. I told you we were alike."

His head hurt trying to keep up with Yank's way of thinking. "I'm lost."

"Okay let me spell it out for you. I lost Lola because first I was scared and then I was a jackass and now it's too late. Are you gonna risk losing the woman you love the same way I did?" Yank asked.

Love, Damian thought, dazed. "Is that what this is all about?" he asked, but even as he wondered aloud, he knew.

He loved Micki.

Even Carter had tried to tell him.

Suddenly all the recent disappointment and confusion made sense. The parties and women that had once defined his life no longer held appeal and when Micki had suggested he return to his old ways, he'd been repelled by the notion. Because he'd rather be with her.

"Looks to me like you didn't recognize a good thing when it was starin' you in the face " Yank said.