Technically, they’d only slept together once, but Tucker didn’t really want to get into the minute details at this moment. Besides, he and Dixon had an understanding. Slow but steady. They’d get back to that point. Tucker knew it deep down.
“Okay.” She sounded a little surprised, but he didn’t detect any hint of disgust. “I thought you were dating women?”
“I was. It’s just that Dixon and I sort of clicked. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Bisexual, but only for this guy, huh?” She paused a second. “Sounds like he’s pretty special.”
“He is.” Tucker caught himself smiling just talking about Dixon, then sobered as he dug down further. “What do you think about me being bi? Does that upset you?” He waited with bated breath for her answer.
“Why should it? You’re who you are, Tucker. I would love you even if you had three arms, a hot pink Mohawk, and had a freaky obsession with mud puddles.”
He chuckled at the image. “That’s a lot of love.”
“You don’t think I stopped loving you when you grew up, did you?”
“I used to think so.”
“Nothing could be further from the truth, son. I did everything for you that I could. I knew you’d succeed if only you could focus on baseball. But, you couldn’t do that if you were worried about me paying rent and putting food on the table. That’s just the kind of kid you were. It broke my heart to do it, but I left so you could focus on yourself and your dreams. That’s not something you could have done within the pack and with me still in the picture. Don’t you see? I refused to drag you down. Instead, I let you free to fly.”
Memories flooded his mind. His mother encouraging him, always being there, upbeat despite their squalid living conditions. She worked extra hours to send him to baseball camp and never once complained about their lot in life.
The waterworks threatened again. “Oh, God. I didn’t know.” He wiped at a single tear that trickled down his cheek. His heart ached at the way he’d treated her after she’d given up her own life just so he had a chance at his one and only dream. All the wasted years of despising her. “I’m such a fool.”
“Mothers don’t stop loving their children when they become adults. Tucker, I understood your animosity with me. You had every right.”
“No I didn’t. I….”
“You were hurt and abandoned. I hurt too. But, never a day goes by that I don’t think of you, watch your games, or follow your career online.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Tucker reeled from the revelations.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“I love you, Mom.” He uttered the phrase for the first time since he stood on the pavement outside his dorm as an eighteen-year-old kid with suitcase in hand.
“I love you too, Tucker.”
“DIXON. WANT to give me a hand?” Tucker asked.
Dixon paused, turned, and smiled at the sight of Tucker juggling two huge bags of stuff from the toy store. Hurrying over, Dixon took one of them from him, very happy to have the walking cast off and be back to his normal health again. Oddly enough, he’d missed playing and could finally resume this morning at the extra practice with a few of the guys.
“What do you have in mind today?”
“I figured since the whole team is having practice in a couple of hours, we should take things back to the basics.” Tucker grinned wickedly. “Right, coach?”
“Uh-huh.” Dixon shook his head as they headed toward the player’s entrance of the stadium. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“It’ll be fun. You remember what that is, right?”
Dixon opened the door for Tucker while considering his question. Fun wasn’t a word he’d used in conjunction with baseball for a long time. Sure, winning the championship last year could fit into the category, but day-to-day games rarely did.
As soon as Tucker passed by, Dixon carried his load through to the locker room. He set his bag down near his locker, then proceeded to change into his waiting practice uniform.
At least I don’t have to wash my own team clothes. The dirt and grass stains would never come out.
With a small, rueful grin, he quickly stripped down to his underwear.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tucker do the same thing. The sight of Tucker’s exceptional body snared Dixon’s attention and made his desire levels jump. Damn. I still want the guy. Bad.
Which only added a monkey wrench in his idea of a second career. How could he just leave the team, move to who knew where to coach, and be happy? The simple answer was he couldn’t. Not as long as they still had a chance.
Tucker started to whistle as he dressed.
How many times had they shared a locker room? Hundreds? Dixon never recalled Tucker whistling before. Especially what sounded like “Oops, I Did It Again.”
Both amused and astonished, Dixon quickly tied his shoes and spun to face Tucker. “You’re in a good mood.”
“Talked to my mother this morning. Ironed some things out.”
“Oh?”
Tucker had mentioned his single mother once before. How hard they struggled and the fact that she dropped him off at college and sped off. “I thought I had it all figured out, with her leaving and all, but I didn’t. She did it all for me, knowing that I needed to put all my attention on baseball instead of worrying about her. So, she made a hard decision in order to give me a chance at my dream.”
The facts made complete sense. A mother’s love certainly. “Wow. That’s one devoted woman.”
“And I’ve treated her like shit since. But, that changed today. I’m going to step up and be a better son.”
“Great.” Dixon squeezed his shoulder. Just the feel of Tucker’s bare shoulder sent a small spark through Dixon. He savored it for a second before putting it out of his mind. “I’m glad to see you smiling again.”
“I’m getting my life back in order. One step at a time.”
“And the next one is earning your spot back.”
“Yep.” He picked up his glove out of the locker, then the huge bag. “Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Dixon tucked his own mitt under his arm before grabbing his sack and leading the way out onto the playing field.
“Let’s leave them here. We’ll bring out the goodies after our practice.” Tucker leaned his stuff against the wall behind home plate.
Dixon did the same.
“Is there a reason you two are carrying big old bags like Santa?” Ares asked.
Tucker chuckled. “Yeah, there’s a reason. You’ll find out after we get that extra time in.”
Two of the assistant coaches walked over from the dugout area, carrying a bucket of balls, a bat, and a glove. Lance arrived right after them, his playing glove already on.
Dixon gave a brief nod at seeing the players, who gave up their free time and got up earlier than necessary in an attempt to increase their skills. Not all men who made it to the all-shifter baseball league would do the same. Dedicated and motivated, he knew they’d all go far, with the Predators or any other team they chose to sign with. They might be rookies, but they had their heads on straight.
“Field practice first. I’ll hit some balls if you guys take positions,” Steve, one of the assistant coaches, instructed. “Lance, take first. Ares, short.” Tucker jogged to second and Dixon resumed his normal spot at third.
“Here we go.” Steve tossed a ball in the air, then hit it with the bat. Hard.
Tucker dove to his right, trapped the ball under his glove, came up to his knees, and fired the ball down to first base.
“Nice job,” Dixon remarked with a grin.
Tucker shot him a smile as he stood and brushed some of the dust from his pants.
Just the quick glimpse told Dixon that Tucker was slowly getting his moxie back. Good thing, as he’d missed Tucker’s swagger. And his smile. And his hot body writhing in absolute pleasure under him.
The crack of the bat pulled Dixon fr
om his thoughts just in time to duck as a line drive flew straight for his head and past. He turned around and jogged after it since their practice lacked a left fielder.
“What was that?” Tucker asked when he returned to his spot.
“Survival.” Dixon tossed the ball back in.
Tucker grinned slowly. “That’s what happens when you daydream. Get your head just about taken off.”
Dixon flipped him off.
Tucker laughed, then settled into his waiting position for the next one.
An hour and a half later, Tucker headed over to the bags, pulled the items out, then started assembling them. They’d finished the extra practice and headed in to the dugout for some cold drinks and a bit of rest before time for team practice arrived. Tucker didn’t bother to sit. He’d just drunk a bottle of water before hurrying over to his stuff and getting back to work setting up a T-ball set.
Unsure why Tucker had purchased such a thing, Dixon walked over, his curiosity demanding he find out the reason.
Tucker finished the task, placed one hand on the stand, and rocked it seemingly to check for balance and sturdiness.
“What’s that for?”
“Since Banner would probably have someone’s head for throwing some pitcher’s arm out, I thought we’d really go back to the starting gate.”
“T-ball.” Dixon chuckled. “At least I’ve learned which direction to run the base pads since I last played like this.” He vaguely recalled learning how to hit using a device very similar to what Tucker had just constructed, although with a real baseball on top, not a plastic ball, and certainly not short, clunky plastic bats.
“I sure hope so.” Tucker grinned. “I’m going to call it Big League T-ball.”
“Sounds about right.” Dixon picked up one of the skinny yellow bats, noting it weighed next to nothing. “Wonder how many of these will end up busted with the guys going to town with them?”
Tucker frowned. “They better not. No bats, no game.”
“Then we better nip that in the bud. Rules are a good starting place.” Dixon thought for a second. “Bust a bat and you’re out of the game?”
“That works. Same with the balls. It would really suck to play for five minutes, then call the game due to equipment failure.”
“Yeah. Just have to defer the grand slams for bunting.” Dixon tossed the bat up and down with one hand. “Ought to be fun.”
“What in the hell?” Ares approached with his mouth gaping open.
“Who’s this for?” Steve asked.
“Why for all of us, of course.” Tucker set the plastic ball with holes on top of the tee. The ball was the same size as a baseball, though tons lighter. “We’re going to play a little T-ball before official practice.”
Lance blinked, then laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I never kid about fun.” Tucker grinned. “Who wants to be first to hit while the others man the field?”
“I’ll do it.” Lance took the bat, shook his head at the small size, then lined up next to the tee.
“Just remember that stuff is plastic. While it might not cost an arm and a leg, it’s easily breakable. Bust all the stuff and the fun is over before it begins,” Tucker advised as he hurried back to his position.
“Got it.” Lance took a practice swing, then hit the ball square. It flew over the pitcher’s mound and up to second base where Tucker collected it and tossed to first, beating Lance there by a step.
Lance pulled up with a huge grin on his face. Though out, he seemed to be having a good time.
Dixon noticed the same expression on the rest of the guys’ faces.
“What in the world…?” Ram approached.
“We’re playing T-ball today?” Wiley asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.
“We must really suck if we’re doing that.” Trigger, always the realist and downer in the group, walked in with Graham.
“Hey, I think it looks like fun.” Graham nudged Trigger. “Quit being so cranky already.”
Trigger rolled his eyes. “I’m not cranky.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Am not.”
Dixon rushed over and collected Lance’s discarded bat. “Who wants to bat first while the others field?”
“I’ll do it.” Trigger snagged the plastic bat, which looked like an extra-long butter knife compared to the mass of the big grizzly shifter.
“There’s a penalty for breaking the bat,” Tucker warned.
“Yep. It’s an automatic ejection from the game since there’s only half a dozen bats for us to use,” Dixon added. “You’ve got to go easy. No grand slam swings. Think small ball.”
“Who has small balls?” Wiley called from the sidelines.
Dixon flipped him off.
Ram cut Dixon a look. “You’re in cahoots with him now?”
Dixon grinned. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Scary, Foxx. Really scary.” Ram belied his firm tone with a rueful smile.
“Save us from the canine capers already.” Trigger grumbled, but Dixon saw the hint of a smile on his lips as he peppered the ball between first and second base.
Instead of running, he tossed the bat to Graham. “See if you can beat that.”
“Challenge accepted.” Graham caught it, then dropped his glove to the ground.
Dixon caught the ball Lance tossed in and placed it on the tee. “It’s all yours.” As he stepped out of the way, Banner approached. The man’s face was as unreadable and stoic as always.
Banner stopped next to Dixon and stuck his hands in his back pockets while watching the field. “I knew at some point in my career, I’d return to Little League. Just didn’t figure it would be today or all the way to T-ball.”
Dixon smiled, then burst out in laughter as Graham smacked the ball. Tucker dove for it only for the ball to stop three feet from his glove. He stood up, walked forward, and picked it up.
Wiley bent over, guffawing at Tucker’s expense.
Tucker strode over and bopped Wiley in the back with the ball.
Wiley didn’t stop. Not even when Tucker removed Wiley’s ball cap, stuck the lightweight ball inside, then placed the cap back on his head.
Hearing chuckles, Dixon swiveled his head to see Banner grinning from ear to ear.
Dixon joined in, enjoying the antics for what they were. Grown men tapping into their boyhood silliness. No umpires or opponents in sight and Dixon was having the time of his life.
All thanks to Tucker.
Chapter 13
DIXON SIGHED in frustration as he walked back to the dugout, bat in hand. He’d struck out. Zero for three so far in the game. A lousy outing. At least he wasn’t alone in his misery. None of the other Predators had been able to figure out the top-notch pitching of the Grand River Team. The starting pitcher, Groupers, blanked them and continued to do so.
He’d done his homework but didn’t expect Groupers to be so unhittable. On paper, he appeared good, but not great. In real life, he’d proven to be much more than that.
As soon as he trotted down the stairs and slid his bat into the slot with his name attached, he glanced down the bench. All the guys were quiet, heads down, frowns on their faces. The game was fun, unless you happened to be on the team losing six to nothing. Then, it was a matter of getting the punishment over with and moving on. Only a miracle would get them back in the game with such a deficit in the eighth inning.
Can’t win them all.
Still, the spanking stung. Especially as they had lost the last three games, although not by nearly such a margin. They were in a slump and couldn’t seem to find a way to pick themselves back up.
“Don’t worry about it. Every day can’t be perfect.”
Dixon glanced up at Mack and offered up a small smile. “True. But, still. Damn.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s having the game of his life. Unfortunately, it’s against us.” Mack shrugged, then sat back to rest his back against the bench. “It happens.”
“Yeah.” Dixon understood completely. When games were close or they were leading, guys were in a better frame of mind. When they were unsuccessful and getting whipped, things were completely different.
“Why can’t anyone hit him?” Tucker asked. “He’s not been this good before, that I can recall.”
“I wish I knew.” Dixon studied the pitcher on the mound. “I’ve been watching him all game long and can’t figure it out. This one might take some time and videos to pick him apart.” Dixon crossed his arms over his chest. “Or maybe he’s just having the game of a lifetime, as Mack suggested. No-hitters are thrown from time to time, sometimes by pitchers other than the highest paid in the league.”
Dixon saw Ares wave his bat at a slider, then cuss as strike three was called, making for the third man out in this inning. “No rest for the weary.” He grabbed his glove, stood up, and prepared to take the field once again.
“I thought that’s supposed to be wicked?”
Tucker’s comment sparked Dixon’s carefully leashed desire. He turned and grinned at Tucker. “Don’t you know it.”
“Yep. Now go out there and show them that the game’s not over until it’s over.” Tucker patted Dixon on the rear.
The other guys received the same pep talk and pat. Dixon joined the line filing out of the dugout, taking the field like he’d done a thousand times before. For a split second, he considered the role Tucker had played while relegated to the bench. Fun and lighthearted, he strove to keep everyone loose despite the score.
After Tucker lost his starting position, Dixon hadn’t expected him to be such a team guy. Many men would be sour about what happened and grumpy toward others, especially the guy who took his place. Not Tucker. He owned his lot in life and placed the blame completely on his own shoulders. Now, he embodied the group spirit. Just another sign that Tucker had changed, made progress, and grown up.
If only he can keep it up.
Dixon turned his attention back to the game. Life on the hot corner could change in an instant. He preferred to keep his teeth right where they were and avoid a major head injury from a line drive while he was distracted.
Switch Hitter Page 14
