Dare to Play (Dare Nation 3)

Austin groaned. “It is possible to live that life with the right woman. Look at Linc.”

“You two sound like parrots,” Jaxon muttered.

Austin went on. “You won’t be playing ball forever. You’ll be more settled. And you don’t want to be alone for the rest of your life.”

“Says the man who not three months ago was a die-hard bachelor. Ever heard the expression the pot calling the kettle black?”

A muscle ticked in Austin’s temple. “One, I didn’t have to answer to anyone but myself. I was retired. And two, you might learn from my experience instead of being an asshole. Quinn is the best thing that ever happened to me. You should try dating a nice girl and not going for the ones who spread their legs for anyone with a jersey.”

“Eww.” Bri shuddered. “This isn’t a locker room.”

“Well, he needs to hear it,” Austin muttered. “Macy’s a great woman. We all like her. She’s the kind of female a guy should settle down with.”

“I’m not going to argue about that. She’s amazing. But I’m not getting married. And ownership can’t make me,” he muttered.

Austin shook his head. “No, but they can order you to chill the fuck out or be suspended or, worst case, cut. Is that what you want?”

Jaxon held up his hands in defeat, slamming them on both thighs. “Fine. I’ll behave, okay? I’ll focus on playing ball when the season starts.” Not that he’d ever screwed up a game, but no one seemed to care about his stellar record.

Pushing himself up, he was about to storm out when Bri called his name. “Jaxon.”

She grabbed his arm. “Come with me.” She shot Austin a warning look, which Jaxon interpreted as stay put. Which was fine with him. He didn’t need any more lecturing from his agent.

* * *

Jaxon followed his sister to her office, which had a wholly different look from Austin’s masculine dark wood shelving and décor. Her walls were painted a turquoise color, her shelves were white, and she had gorgeous pops of color everywhere, from the paintings on the wall to the knickknacks on her desk. Thanks to the scenery, he immediately felt more relaxed.

“Have a seat,” Bri said. “Can I get you a soda? Water?”

He shook his head, studying his sister before finally speaking. “What are you thinking?” he asked his brilliant fixer sister.

“I think we need time to pass where you behave like the player your teammates look up to and management doesn’t have to worry about seeing in the paper.” She waved her hands in the air as she spoke. “They’ve had it with the bad press. As for me, I’ll work on getting you some positive media, and you will lie low. Agreed?”

He nodded. “Agreed.” Because despite what it looked like to the outside world, his career meant everything to him.

Acting out had been his way of defying the father who never respected his determination to pitch and become a Major League Baseball player. To Jesse Prescott, the only acceptable sport was football, a man’s sport. And because Jesse had lost his ability to even be drafted in the NFL due to an injury, he’d made damned sure his sons were going to fulfill his dreams.

He’d failed with two of the four. While Austin and Damon went on to play football, Braden had become a doctor, and Jaxon stuck with baseball, his passion, both disappointing their father.

But as they’d discovered last year when their uncle Paul had needed a liver transplant, Paul was the Prescott siblings’ biological father. Not Jesse, who had been unable to have children. Another failure. Another reason he’d been so hard on the kids.

If Paul and his mother had fessed up earlier, they might have spared the children Jesse’s temper and disdain, but his mom believed she could be a buffer, and neither wanted to make Jesse face his failings. Plus Paul had promised his silence. But with Jesse gone for thirteen years now, there’d been no harm in the revelation, and Austin’s kidney had saved Paul’s life.

All’s well that ends well, Jaxon thought, before shaking his head to clear the memories and meeting his sister’s gaze.

“Are we going to talk about Macy?” Bri asked.

“I’d rather not.” His private life was just that.

He didn’t screw around and talk about the women in his bed, but in this case, there was more to his reticence. As much as he hated to admit it, he hadn’t been able to get Macy out of his head. She’d been different. And he didn’t want to think about why.

“Well, tough.” She sat down beside him. “She’s my closest friend, and there’s no way I’m going to let you hurt her.”

He frowned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered. “Macy and I had an understanding. It was one night.” And if anything, she’d been more eager to run than he’d been to have her leave. Something else he had a hard time comprehending.