The Predators were batting, so nearly all the players were there. Each one looked his direction, peered down at the boot, then back to his face. He offered up a small grin. “Just a precaution.”
Banner came over. “How long?”
“A week, according to Doc.”
“Not bad. Good thing you’re a shifter. That injury would put you out for the season, most likely, if you were human.”
“One of the benefits of being part canine,” Wiley answered.
“With that device, we can hear you coming a mile away,” Trigger pointed out.
Tucker shook his head at the grizzly shifter and ambled over. Concern radiated in his eyes. “You okay?”
Dixon nodded. “Yeah. Broken ankle, but a shift pretty much took care of it. Since the spikes broke the skin, I’m on antibiotics for a couple of days.” He still felt the small tingle where Dr. Monroe gave him the shot. Resisting the urge to rub it, he chose to ignore it and not dwell on having to endure another one the next day.
“So, you need to rest.” Tucker’s voice remained unchanged but carried a hint of regret or possibly uncertainty.
Dixon could almost read his mind. “Doc said I could still coach, just not be on the field diving after line drives, or in the batter’s box trying to knock one out of the park. Not until we get back home, anyway.”
Tucker’s shoulders relaxed as did his expression. He sat down next to Dixon. “How about this? You provide the helpful hints and I’ll drive you around.”
Dixon tapped his injured left leg. “I can still drive. The advantage of having an automatic transmission. Don’t need the left foot for much.”
“True.” Tucker turned his attention back to the field. “How about I let you be my co-conspirator instead?”
Dixon arched an eyebrow. “Like before?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
Despite not being able to play, Dixon felt pretty damn good. He’d still get to share insight and hang out with the team. In addition, he’d partner up with Tucker on his next prank. Not a bad deal after all.
He reclined against the backrest and pondered his situation. Not being out at third base wasn’t the end of the world. Heck, he found the reprieve almost nice. No pressure to perform. No imminent phone calls from his father, tearing his style apart, piece by little tiny piece. Instead, he could just enjoy being a player.
Ares stood in the box, facing one of the better pitchers in the league. Miles had a cannon of an arm but also could throw a sneaky off-speed pitch that would catch hitters out of sorts most of the time.
Dixon studied the guy’s delivery, then Ares’s swing. He chopped at the ball. Once. Twice. Then fanned the plate when Miles took something off and hooked a decent pitch at his knees and to the inside.
Ares trotted down the steps with a scowl on his face. “I can’t hit that fucking breaking ball, no matter what I try.”
Dixon turned to the rookie with interest. “You can if you catch the little drop of his glove hand and the slight hesitation in his timing.”
Ares grumbled under his breath. “His delivery is the damn same as with his fastball. I’ve watched.”
Dixon pursed his lips. “Not quite. I’ll let you in on a little observation or two.”
Ares lifted his head and stared at Dixon. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah. Sit down and we’ll analyze some things.” He gestured to the empty spot next to him with his head.
Ares did as bidden.
“As you know, most pitchers are creatures of habit. The trick is trying to find very tiny differences in the delivery that will clue you in to what’s coming.” Dixon gestured toward Miles. “The way he holds his glove. The lift of his leg. The grip on the ball when it leaves his hand.”
Together they watched him throw several more balls, Dixon noting subtle changes that seemed to occur with consistency. He pointed out each one.
Lance came over to take a place next to Ares. He leaned over and listened in. A couple more of the older guys did the same.
“How do you know all this?” Tucker asked.
Dixon shrugged. “I was schooled in hitting from day one. It’s been drilled into me since I could pick up a bat. After all those years, it finally sank in.” He smiled softly. While he and his father might not get along, he couldn’t deny the results of his father’s influence. “I also watch a lot of videos. To know the pitcher is to find his weaknesses.”
“You live and breathe the game,” Lance said.
Dixon mentally cringed. He’s right. I have no fucking life. Instead of lamenting his lot, he focused on helping out where he could. “I spend a lot of time trying to improve, yeah. But, nothing worthwhile is easy. All the talent in the world can’t make up for doing your homework.”
The guys nodded in acknowledgment.
Oddly enough, Dixon discovered something new. Even with a bum foot and benched for the series, he was having a good time. More fun than he’d had while stationed at his normal starting position, that was for sure.
Sharing his knowledge came easy and natural. To have receptive ears all around provided a confidence boost and gave him a sense of importance. He liked coaching. Reveled in it. At last he’d found a niche that offered up great opportunities while giving back.
Something to think about, anyway.
He couldn’t play the game forever and he needed a backup plan. Right now, he feared burnout had seized hold, and he no longer saw the stadium as anything but a cubicle where he came to spend his days at work. As long as he played, his father’s perfectionist views would always hang over his head with his calls from his father filled with judgment and critiques. The constant, impossible expectations ruined the game for him. But, as a coach, he’d shake free of the overbearing burden and fly free. For the first time in his life.
Hope sparked with the idea.
Tucker stood, walked over to grab his bat, and made his way to the warm-up circle. Dixon watched him every step of the way. The snap of muscles in Tucker’s conditioned body couldn’t be denied. They drew Dixon’s attention and made him recall how glorious Tucker looked naked. As long as he lived, he’d never forget that night. Even if Tucker seemed intent on doing just that.
Tucker took the first pitch, laying off as it went outside. The next came inside. Tucker just managed to stop his swing in time. He reset his stance, then waited.
Miles gathered up his body, then exploded out as he fired.
Tucker swung.
Crack.
The ball shot over the head of the second baseman and into center field.
A nice single.
Tucker stopped at first, stared back at the dugout, and gave a thumbs-up.
The gesture reaffirmed Dixon’s contentment for the moment. Helping Tucker to get back on track gave him more happiness and feelings of success than if he stepped up to the plate and hit an out-of-the-park homerun.
That’s pretty damn significant.
Dixon knew he was looking at his potential future. But, with that came a big splash of reality.
Coaches were traded more than players in the league. A bad season, new management, even disagreement with a top-level athlete was enough to can a coach. While he might enjoy teaching the other players, especially the up-and-coming ones, he saw reality. No one started out in the majors for their very first coaching position. They did their time in the minors or at the college level and worked their way up. That took years with still no guarantee of making it to the top.
In order to change his career to a new direction, Dixon had to pack up his bags and leave Preston.
And Tucker as well.
The thought sent a pang straight to his heart.
Chapter 11
“WHAT ARE we looking for exactly?” Dixon asked. He still wore the boot on his left leg, but it didn’t slow him down in the least. The click, though, allowed Tucker to easily keep track of his buddy especially when walking on cement floors.
“I’m not sur
e, but I’ll know it when I see it,” Tucker replied as he scanned the shelves.
They’d finished the series in Florida and arrived home last night. Tucker’s batting average went up dramatically with the help of Dixon’s coaching every day before the game, along with some extra time in the batting cages. Banner even let Tucker play second base each game after Dixon’s injury as Lance had been moved over to cover third. No errors to report. And a pretty nice series overall.
He’d mentioned his agenda today to Dixon, who volunteered to tag along “to learn the art of pranking from the best.” Tucker didn’t mind. Besides, he’d promised. A favor for a favor.
They’d fallen into a companionable friendship and worked well together over the past week. The mornings they spent in an extra baseball practice with just the two of them or perhaps an assistant coach or two to help out, especially on fielding skills. Afterward, they had downtime before either afternoon practice or pregame. If they had a late game, then they’d sleep in and hit the field earlier than the other guys in order to get some extra work in.
The effort had paid off.
While he wasn’t back on the starting roster, he made the best of his opportunity. And, intended to do so every time he took the field.
In the meantime, he had some vague ideas on how to keep the guys loose before the game. They involved a couple of stops and some odd purchases.
He turned down another aisle of the toy store and heard Dixon clicking along behind him, slowly, as if he checked everything out with interest. The thought of Dixon hanging out in a toy store amused Tucker but didn’t surprise him. Not now. From what he gathered, Dixon didn’t have a great childhood, with his father to blame for pressuring him constantly about baseball. While the sport had been meant for fun, he doubted Dixon saw it that way. More like an endless job while growing up. Just business as usual in his eyes. No wonder he’d always been so serious at the ballpark.
Yet, he’d seen another side of Dixon recently. The coach. The unselfishness and caring, the dedication and pride. He might not be able to get on the field with his injury, but he helped in other ways. Not only the team, but individual players who took the time to listen.
Not every man would give up his hard-earned knowledge. Dixon did gladly.
Tucker thought he’d come to know Dixon over the last year or so. But, he saw the baseball player, not really much deeper. The last couple of weeks had shown him the true man. One whose smile made his heart kick and his insides melt like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. One whose body jolted his desires into high gear. One whose sweet nature touched him deeper than all the rest.
Dixon was the whole package. A precious gift he’d lose if he didn’t face the facts and stand up like a man.
I want him.
He glanced back at Dixon, found him looking over a sea of toys, before bending to read the writing on a box. Tucker’s breath caught at the sight of Dixon’s rear pointed in his direction. His mind might still be processing the changes, but his body only knew one thing. Dixon made him hungry, hot, and turned on.
Dixon pulled a mechanical dinosaur off the shelf to inspect it further.
Tucker grinned. The guy needed to get in touch with his inner child, and he vowed to make it happen. Starting with incorporating him into the business of pranking the other players.
Pleasing Dixon and making him laugh grew to utmost priority in Tucker’s mind. Dixon had given so much of himself, and Tucker intended to pay him back.
I just want to make him happy.
Then tell him how you feel. That you want him. His inner animal cajoled. A nice change from his usual demanding tone.
It’s not that easy. You know that.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Yeah, yeah.
Tucker scanned the closest aisle as they ambled around the toy store. The doll department, where they started, hadn’t interested him a bit. Even the toys that changed from human to animal didn’t quite make the grade. So, they’d continued searching.
A shape to his right caught his eye. He strode over, picked up the item, and grinned. “Oh, yeah.”
Dixon came over. “A windup rat?”
“Yep. Can you imagine? Just wind it up and let it go in the locker room?” The thought provoked images of players scrambling, hollering, and maybe trying to squash the thing. Tucker wondered who’d scream and run and who’d stand up and fight the little vermin.
Dixon shook his head and grinned. “You’re a mess.”
“What else is new?” Tucker tucked the rat under his arm and led the way toward the back of the store. He had another plan, which involved sporting equipment.
An hour later, he and Dixon placed four oversized bags of stuff in the back of Dixon’s SUV. Tucker shut the hatch and climbed into the passenger’s seat.
“Where now?”
“Drug store.”
Dixon blinked. “Do I want to know what you’re getting from there?”
“Probably not.” Tucker smiled. As a rule, shifters didn’t use human medication. Their metabolism was different enough that the drugs didn’t act in the same way for their species. Not to mention, a simple shift could heal just about anything.
“Okayyy.” Dixon placed the key in the ignition and started the engine.
“It’s that or the sex store,” Tucker tossed out.
Dixon’s lips parted even as his eyebrows furrowed. “Nope. I’m not going to ask.” He shook his head and pulled out onto the road. Two blocks away, he turned into the parking lot of a pharmacy.
“I’ll just be a second.” Tucker jumped out and hurried inside. He found the correct area, spied the big tubes of lube, and collected three of them. On the way out, he found another interesting item. An invisible gel that turned colors when in contact with the skin. He grinned wickedly and added that to his armful of stuff.
The cashier gave him an odd look but didn’t say much besides the total amount owed. Tucker gladly paid up, took his bag in hand, and walked out the door and straight to Dixon’s vehicle.
“That’s it?” Dixon asked.
“Yep.” Tucker pulled out one of the tubes.
“Holy shit.” Dixon gaped at the extra-large container of lube. “I’m afraid to ask what you intend to do with that.”
Tucker grinned. “I did get two others just like it.”
“Plan on having an orgy?”
“Well….”
“Really?” Curious interest along with a healthy dose of shock covered Dixon’s face.
Tucker laughed. “Actually, I thought about coating the bases with it.”
For a second Dixon didn’t do anything more than sit in his seat and stare at Tucker. Slowly, an evil grin creased his face. “So when they slide in, they’ll keep right on going.”
“Exactly.”
“Got to give you credit for imagination.” Dixon started up the SUV once again. “Still need the sex store?”
Tucker blew out a breath. “No, not now.” He’d visited the place more than once, always searching for something new and exciting to spice up his sex life. That didn’t embarrass him in the least. However, the thought of taking Dixon with him made him edgy and uncertain.
“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” Dixon asked.
“I’m….” Tucker bit his lip. He couldn’t get the night out of his mind or quit checking Dixon out. That was personal. Actually discussing the event with Dixon went deeper. More intimate. And not without a large amount of trepidation.
Denial gets you nowhere. Grow a pair and buck up. His inner wild dog yapped at him again.
It’s not time.
A piss-poor excuse and you know it. The beast growled at him. Take him home and play hide the sausage already.
Tucker frowned with irritation. Knock it off. I’ll know when the time is right.
Uh-huh. Just take some of that lube for yourself. You’ll be spending so much time jacking off that you’ll chafe.
Enough. Tucker snapped his teeth together.
“Problem?” Dixon asked.
“No.”
Dixon eyed him for a long moment before driving out onto the road. “Ready for lunch? My treat.”
For a second, Tucker considered backing out. He glanced over at Dixon and decided to follow through with their original plans. His professional life had started looking up since Dixon stepped into the picture and he’d been having fun as well. Not ready for the good times to stop, he stepped up to the figurative plate.
“I thought I was paying since you’ve been spending all the time on private lessons.”
He could show us some more private lessons.
Shut up.
Tucker ignored the voice in his head and peered out the front windshield.
“If you’re sure.” Dixon stopped for a stoplight.
“Yep. Your choice. Where do you want to go?”
“I thought pizza.”
“I happen to like that too.”
Tucker smiled, relieved to be over that small bump in the road today. Casual teammates and friends he could do well. A bi lover was a lot harder to wrap his mind around. He was trying. That’s all he could really say.
Well, that and he felt more attraction for Dixon than he had for any of the women he’d been with lately. Including Gloria. Before, they were trophy girlfriends, a status in his life. A reminder of how far he’d come.
I was so fucking shallow.
He grimaced at how superficial he’d been. Though, the women were of the same mentality. All wanted a notch on their bedpost as much as he did. Some pursued higher ambitions by trying to get a ring on their finger, but he called their game and walked away.
Now, he saw relationships a bit differently. Thanks to the guys on the team and spending some quality time with one gray fox shifter. With Dixon, it wasn’t about prestige or money. It revolved around feelings.
Something he wasn’t so adept at dealing with.
The shock of his newly discovered bisexual status still rattled him, but less since he’d had time to process and a bit of help from Ram and Wiley. His research reassured him as well. Maybe he was a late bloomer. Maybe he was simply gay only for Dixon. Maybe he’d just buried that part of himself until now.
Switch Hitter Page 12
