Dixon attached the last bit of tape with an amused grin.
“I can’t wait to see their faces.”
Dixon matched his smile. “Oh, yeah. This is going to be good.”
They shared a look, one which made Tucker’s breath catch. Not just co-conspirators or partners in crime, but something stronger.
Tucker finally looked away. “We should probably get a bite to eat before time to show up for pregame.” His stomach agreed with a hungry rumble.
“Yeah, we should.” Dixon closed his locker and returned the scissors on the way out. “What sounds good?”
“Something light. Maybe a sandwich or two. And, nuts to snack on during the game.” Some players chewed gum. Others ate sunflower seeds. Tucker preferred nuts. Any kind would work as long as they were slightly salted and of high quality.
“You and your nuts.”
Tucker found the comment humorous. “They’re quite tasty, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
Dixon groaned loudly. “Bad. Very bad.”
“That’s me. Bad to the bone.” Tucker laughed. They stepped out of the facility and into the late morning air. “Remind me to visit a shop or two when we have some downtime.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
“Props.”
Dixon blinked, but Tucker only smiled. One part of his game was back up to par. He hoped the rest would soon follow. Until then, he could lighten things up a little in the locker rom. After all, what fun was hanging out with a bunch of guys if you couldn’t get their goat now and again?
“WHAT THE hell happened to my number?” Graham turned his shirt this way and that.
The rest of the guys murmured in astonishment and irritation at the addition to their game shirts.
“You think yours is bad. Look at mine.” Trigger thrust his jersey toward Graham.
“Sixty-nine.” Graham burst out laughing. “Is that a suggestion?”
Trigger’s face morphed from annoyance to hot sexual desire in the blink of an eye.
Graham stepped closer and brushed his lips over Trigger’s. “Later, mate. After the game.”
Trigger groaned softly, kissed Graham with brief intensity, then put some space between them. The love and heated sparks between the two men couldn’t be missed.
“Anyone else scent the lust in the air?” Mack asked.
“I thought that was pheromones?” Dixon replied.
Trigger rolled his eyes. “Juvenile. All of you.” He raked the room with a stern glare.
Tucker strolled around the corner. “What’s this about Trigger all hot and bothered? Again? Didn’t we just go through this mating season crap not too long ago?”
“Shut it, puppy.” Trigger added a menacing growl for effect.
“Why do I have 911 on my jersey? Does that mean I’m the person to rescue the rest of the team in the case of a horrible outing?” Wiley frowned at his shirt, still hanging up in front of his locker. He tugged at the tape to no avail. It didn’t budge.
“If we have to rely on you to save our asses, we’re in deep shit,” Trigger answered with a smirk.
Wiley flipped him off. “Bite me, grizzly.”
“I believe that’s my job,” Ram insisted.
Wiley grinned wickedly. “True.”
All the playfulness with the mated pairs sent a wave of jealousy through Dixon. He wanted the same happiness, the gentle teasing, the molten looks that guaranteed a night of decadent sex after the game. All of that and more. With Tucker.
His gaze latched onto the man in question across the room, smiling proudly at what he’d done. He sure likes to stir up trouble. Dixon found it amusing and endearing. A sense of humor went a long way in a relationship. Not that he’d had many serious ones. Most of his partners were impulsive one-night stands. A release of tension and an escape. Nothing more. While he wasn’t necessarily proud of his fly-by-night experiences, he also knew he was human. Well partly. But the blame lay with his animal side. The need for sexcapades originated from his inner fox most of the time. After all, beastly lust couldn’t be denied.
His inner fox agreed when it came to Tucker.
Dixon quickly slipped into his uniform, grinning at the additional number on his back that changed his normal ten to one hundred and one. The game had always been serious for him. Sure, he’d chuckle at the antics of team clowns, but really didn’t get too involved. To him, baseball was a business. One he took great care to mold and protect. After all, he had a family name to live up to.
However, this sillier side appealed just as much as the realities of the sport. Probably more so at this moment in his life. He’d enjoyed letting loose and just being an overgrown kid again. Even better, the other players didn’t seem to look his direction when it came to blame. Which made the prank that much funnier. Tucker might catch some flak for it, but Dixon most likely would emerge free and clear.
The grumblings echoed through the locker room, but game time waited for no one.
Dixon hurried to the dugout along with the rest of the team.
Banner posted the batting order on the wall, then turned to face the guys. “Tucker, you’re designated hitter today. Take advantage of it.”
“Yes, sir.” Tucker grinned with more confidence than Dixon had seen since Tucker had been demoted to second string.
Dixon glanced at the paper, finding his name on the top of the list. Nothing unusual as he either led off or hit third. Banner hadn’t changed things up in two years where Dixon was concerned.
Dixon picked out his bat and prepared for his first chance against Stu. He’d faced the pitcher enough times to know the guy’s in, outs, and tricks.
“Batter up!” The umpire took his place behind the catcher at home plate.
Dixon walked to the left side of the batter’s box, took a couple of practice swings, then settled in for his turn.
The first ball whizzed by.
“Strike one.”
Well, hell. Stu had picked up some power during the off-season. Dixon filed that for future reference. He lifted his back shoulder a notch to offset his natural tendency to let it drop, then lifted his front foot a bit in anticipation of the throw. His timing mechanism worked as he made contact with the next pitch, sending a laser down the third base line, just out of reach of the opponent, and into the far corner.
Dixon put on the jets, rounded first, and made a dash for second. For a second he’d considered trying for third, but Banner’s hands-up stop sign made him slow down and jog into second without even a throw to make the race close. Settled safely, he turned his attention back to home plate.
Tucker strode up to the batter’s box, chose the right side, and took up his stance. Tucker was a switch hitter and could smack the ball from either side of the plate. A hard-earned talent and one that benefitted the team when it came to pitchers. With his position, he could either pull the ball to right field or hit square down the middle. If his timing was a smidgen early, he’d blast one toward left.
Dixon moved a couple of paces off the bag, his gaze on the signs the catcher flashed the pitcher. While Dixon didn’t know their code, he could pick up on a few things now and again. Stu gathered the ball in his glove, glanced back at Dixon, then flung the first pitch.
“Strike one.”
Tucker backed out of the box for a second, looked around, then re-entered. He lifted the bat off his shoulder and focused on the pitcher.
Patience, Tucker. Just make contact. The basics.
Dixon willed Tucker to remember the extra batting practice they had that morning. The lessons revisited in preparation for this moment.
The next throw landed in the dirt. The catcher blocked it, gathered it up, then handed it to the umpire for a replacement. Scuffed balls were rejected by pitchers more times than not.
Dixon stepped back on second base, then took a good lead once more.
Stu fired again.
Crack.
“Foul ball.” The umpire held up his hands as the bal
l landed well out of play in the stands.
Dixon turned and trotted back to his original place. “That’s it, Tucker.” He clapped a couple of times, then bent his knees and lowered his center of gravity a bit in preparation of either running or having to dive back to the base if the catcher caught him trying to steal.
The pitch came. Tucker swung. Another foul ball, this one over the dugout and into the seats.
“Keep it up,” Dixon called as he walked back to the base, stepped on the bag, then drifted off a few feet.
Stu twisted to look at Dixon, turned forward, then threw.
The ball exploded off Tucker’s bat.
Dixon took a split second to see the ball heading for the far wall. He waited just a beat, until the ball bounced off the top of the center field fence. A ground rule double. Dixon cheered Tucker’s success as he rounded third and made his way home.
He returned to the dugout, receiving high fives from fellow teammates. As much as he appreciated their congratulations, he was more pleased with Tucker. The guy listened and their session, so far, seemed to pay off. He made a mental note to repeat the preparation before the next game, giving Tucker a heads-up on the starting pitcher and seeing a few pitches like the opponent favored to toss.
“You make one hell of a batting coach,” Banner said.
Dixon shrugged. “It’s only one at bat. We’ll see as the game goes.” Praise, while possibly deserved, never really sat well with him. He always felt like there was room for improvement. Oh, shit. I sound just like my father.
“You’re selling yourself short.” Banner patted him on the back. “Thanks for going out of your way to help Tucker. Not everyone would.”
Dixon nodded, stepped around his manager, and sought an empty spot on the bench. He grabbed a bottle of water along the way, opened the lid, and took a long drink. Idly, he watched the next batter walk to the plate, then centered his attention on Tucker.
The guy had been put together right. The strength came through loud and clear despite the uniform covering all those toned muscles. Tall and strong, he could run with the best while holding his own at second base as an opponent slid into him in an effort to disrupt a double play.
The light breeze caused some movement that caught Dixon’s eye. A couple of dark curls had escaped the helmet, tickling at Tucker’s nape. Dixon recalled those same curls as he peered down at Tucker, sucking his cock. Unable to resist, he’d run his hand through the silky soft locks and used the hold to encourage Tucker further.
He had to bite back a low moan at the images flashing through his mind and fought a losing battle against his quickly growing erection. At least the discomfort of having a hard-on while wearing a cup put a rapid dent into his sexual fantasies.
“Hey, Dixon. Earth to Dixon.”
Hearing his name, Dixon glanced up to find the source of his erotic daydream standing right in front of him.
“You must be deep in thought about something.”
You could say that. He sat up straighter and tilted his head. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Tucker grinned widely. “I said your lessons paid off. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Dixon answered automatically.
“I owe you lunch.” Tucker nodded and walked over to the cooler.
Dixon watched him go with a mixture of pride and want.
He didn’t have long to daydream as the next three batters flied out.
“Okay, guys. Let’s get out there and show them how it’s done.” Slade, who drew the starting pitching role for the day, led the way to the field.
Dixon grabbed his glove and followed, pausing only long enough to give Tucker a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Enjoy the break. You’ll be out there in the sweltering heat with the rest of us soon enough.”
Tucker snorted, but Dixon caught the hint of brightness in his eyes. Tucker, while far from fully back, had taken the first step. He’d started to believe in himself again.
The rest would come. If Dixon had anything to do with it.
Chapter 9
TUCKER SAT down on the edge of his bed and stared at the television. He flicked through the channels, finding nothing of interest, then punched it back off.
The game had been a decent one with the Predators pulling off a win. He’d ridden the bench, but went three for four, with a double, two singles, and two runs batted in. Not a bad outing at all and a nice start to getting back into Banner’s good graces. He had Dixon to thank for that. His instructions and the insight into the starting pitcher were priceless when it came game time. So was the practice in the batting cage. Even the batting coach couldn’t hold a candle to what Dixon did for him. Dixon had a calming, uplifting manner about him. No judging, no harshness, simply upbeat and encouraging. Just what Tucker needed right now.
And the view Dixon presented wasn’t bad either.
He groaned as the same old issue came around again in a timely fashion. Just like reflux. He grinned at the analogy.
The clock caught his attention. Ten p.m. He had time to venture out into the city, but not the desire. Sleep didn’t appeal either as he was still wound from the game. Since nothing on television interested him, he found himself at loose ends.
The black duffel bag caught his attention. He got up, dug out the laptop, and fired it up. He tired of solitaire after playing only a couple of games. With nothing much else to do, he went online, read the latest sports news, then found himself doing a search for bisexuality.
He’d heard the term, certainly. Understood the basics, but couldn’t quite put his finger on the fact that he’d always thought himself straight until one life-changing night.
Information appeared in the form of dozens of links to sites. He chose the first one, a seemingly reputable site, and started reading.
How long he pored through pages and how many websites he visited, he couldn’t say. But, he did have a new understanding of what being bisexual meant and a possible reason he’d just learned that group included him.
He thought about his pack. Since he’d never visited or met them for fear of being torn apart for his mixed genetics, he couldn’t say what sexual orientations existed or how a nonstraight person was treated. Considering how they saw nonpurebreds, he didn’t have much faith they’d accept any differences, no matter what. Their beliefs really didn’t matter, anyway. Not like he’d make a surprise visit any time soon and announce his newfound sexual interests.
He snorted at the ridiculous thought. His whole life had been a study in keeping away and remaining alive. No reason to buck the system now.
Besides, all that truly mattered were the people he counted as friends and teammates. He knew for a fact they embraced everyone, regardless of their sexual orientation or private practices. He’d seen the truth with his own eyes, especially with the two mated gay couples who were part of the team. They were treated just like everyone else. Accepted as family.
What would it be like to be one of those mated couples? To spend the days and nights with the one you loved above all others? To have that special person in the world who could respect and love you for who you were?
He felt a pang of longing. After years of being a playboy, he’d grown up. Saw something besides cheap dates and fast women. He’d changed his tune completely.
Boy howdy, have I changed my tune.
If only he could navigate a path through this perplexing monkey wrench thrown into the cogs of his life. Scientific data was one thing. Firsthand experience and advice was another.
Ram. He was bi. Maybe he could shine some light on things.
Tucker checked the clock again, crossed his fingers that it wasn’t too late, or he’d be interrupting anything, stepped out into the hallway, and to the hotel room that Wiley and Ram shared. He stuck his ear to the wood, heard nothing to indicate they were busily engaged in sex, and blew out a sigh of relief. A little more confident, he rapped on the door.
Wiley answered. “Tucker. Is something wrong?”
“No. I was just wondering if I could talk to Ram.”
“Sure.” Wiley held the door open, then closed it behind him.
Ram sat on the couch next to the balcony doors. “What’s up?”
A bit of nerves ramped up. Tucker took a deep breath and forced himself to follow through with what he’d come to do. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”
“Okay.”
“About being bi.” Tucker said the words in a rush.
“Of course. Have a seat.” Ram gestured to one of the plush chairs nearby.
Tucker looked at Wiley with uncertainty. He didn’t want to cause any strife between mates, and what Ram said might rub Wiley the wrong way. “Maybe this isn’t a good time….”
Wiley grasped Tucker’s shoulder. “I don’t have any secrets from my mate. And, he doesn’t from me. So, whatever you need to know, just ask. It won’t bother me at all.”
Tucker recognized the truth in Wiley’s face and heard it in his voice. He glanced over to Ram and saw the same reflected on Ram’s face. He gave a quick nod and sat down.
Wiley positioned himself next to Ram, then linked their hands together.
“What do you want to know?”
It’s game time. Tucker hadn’t really made a mental list of questions. He’d just reacted with gut impulse. Now, he tried to formulate his many questions into logical sentences. He started with the basics, hoping to springboard from there.
“I’ve been doing some online research. Read some information, scientific data and then some. That doesn’t really help explain why me. Why now? Why with…?”
“Dixon?” Ram asked.
“Yeah.”
“I take it you didn’t have a clue you liked men until you hooked up with Dixon?”
“No.”
“Never checked out another guy’s ass? Looked at his smile? Thought he was hot as hell?” Ram tossed out.
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