Read Texas Wide Open Online

Authors: KC Klein

Texas Wide Open (8 page)

Cole approached the freshly painted white wraparound porch with a grin. James Harris
stood on the front porch like a ruler surveying his kingdom. A vintage lizard skin
boot with a pointed toe and fancy hand stitching rested on the lower wooden rail.
A crisp, white, button-down shirt, straining against a significant paunch, was tucked
into an overly large belt buckle that shouted Texas louder than any tricolored flag
with a lone star.
“Sir,” Cole said, in the way of a greeting.
James tipped back the white Stetson that pretty much always graced his thinning hair
and stretched his lips into what some considered his smile. The cigar that was pinched
between stained straight teeth did little to take away from features that at one time
would’ve been considered handsome. The sun, time, and stress had all taken their toll,
but nothing could dull the keen perceptiveness of James Harris’s brown eyes.
He was a shrewd businessman who’d made his money by driving hard bargains, and selling
and trading horseflesh. He’d gotten his start as a large animal veterinarian, but
could’ve retired long ago on the money he’d acquired over the years of horse breeding
and racing. James Harris was a widower, and remained so by choice. His wife had died
when Katie was just a baby, but he seemed content with his few passing girlfriends
and raising his daughter alone.
“Son.” James nodded in acknowledgment. “How’re you doing this fine evening?”
Cole smiled at the greeting. “I’d guess a mite better than you, considering you’re
having your dessert cigar before even sitting down for dinner.”
James rolled his cigar, made small by meaty fingers, then snubbed it into the terracotta
pot-turned-ashtray that was hidden behind the porch post. He made a slight clicking
noise with his tongue and then stared back at Cole. “Katie’s going to Prom.”
Cole nodded, not sure what response the older man wanted. Cole had tried to raise
his younger sister after his mom had died, but he hadn’t been much older than she,
and Nikki had mostly raised herself. Cole couldn’t remember ever thinking “Prom” and
“Nikki” in the same thought, and he sure as hell hadn’t gone to his own. But with
a vague mental picture of Katie in a ponytail, white dress, and black shoes, clasped
with small bows, he wasn’t sure what James was worried about.
“You don’t seem to be grasping the implications here,” James said, his eyes darkening.
“You know what they say about Prom, don’t you? More virginities are lost on Prom night
than any other time of year.”
Cole scraped the bottom of his boot on the step. The words “Katie” and “virginity”
were not something he liked to put together in the same sentence. He glanced up at
James. The older man seemed to be waiting for a response. “Well, Katie’s a good girl.
She’ll make the right choice.”
Silence. James Harris had a way of making certain natural lulls in the conversation
uncomfortable. He could make the simple act of breathing seem loud and awkward. Cole
knew the technique. He’d seen James wield his magic to coerce a business associate
into conceding a bit more than they’d wanted to give. For the first time, Cole felt
a twinge of sympathy for the man on the other side of James’s handshake.
Cole gave the wood step a halfhearted kick. A muscle in his neck twitched. He guessed
he could understand James being anxious. Katie did have her head on straight, but
she was fearless just the same. Which, at times, had both men contemplating putting
her under lock and key.
James was a good father, and Cole was confident James had taken care of
that
talk. But Cole wasn’t above throwing his two cents in. As far as he was concerned,
Katie could always use a reminder to be smart and not rush into anything. He pinched
the bridge of his nose between his eyes. Yeah, asking Katie to slow down was like
telling a racehorse not to run.
“It’s tonight,” James growled. “Her date is picking her up in”—he checked his watch—“ten
minutes, if the fool shows up at all.”
Cole nodded again, wanting nothing more than to get off the current topic. This time
James took pity on him, and the silence between the two men was easy.
The afternoon had cooled and a slight breeze previewed the coming night. A foreign
clicking noise floated past the screen door and both men turned their heads for a
better view. But Cole knew that sound—his stomach tightened. He automatically associated
the delicate click of heels with swaying hips, short skirts, and much-hoped-for sex.
Nothing that should’ve had anything to do with Katie.
The front screen door opened with a rush, and Cole’s heart thudded to a stop.
Blood-red toenails peeked out from gold, three-inch-high, “consequences be damned”
shoes. His gaze took in a slender ankle encircled with a delicate gold chain, shapely
calves and legs that—Cole clamped down hard on that thought. He swallowed instead
and forced his gaze up. Up to a tight black hem that kissed a little too high mid-thigh,
and flared hips that narrowed a little too tightly into a tiny waist. Up to breasts—
Christ
—that looked ready to pop out of a dress designed to defy gravity. Up to a face that
was all cheekbones, big whiskey-colored eyes and lush lips that had very wrong images
running through his head.
And finally a disarrayed pile of chestnut hair that suggested—rather loudly to him—she’d
just come from someone’s bed.
From one breath to the next, anger flared from deep within his gut, and he pinned
her with a cold gaze he normally reserved for slacker ranch hands. “Damn, Katie, I
thought you were going to Prom, not walking the streets.”
The look of hurt in her eyes couldn’t have been worse if he’d slapped her. And sure,
he felt a flash of regret, but it had a hard time breaking past the anger that had
a strange, fierce hold on him.
He glanced over to James and watched all some fifty-odd years of living catch up to
him in a single moment. He waited for James to tell Katie to march right back inside
and put something decent on, something less . . . female.
“What I think Cole is trying to say, Katie honey, is that you look beautiful.” James
eyed Cole and gave him a warning look, then turned back to Katie. “But honey—”
Apparently, it was up to Cole to give Katie her warning. “But a deep breath or, God
forbid, a sneeze and this could be a whole different type of Prom.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he sounded crazy, but he couldn’t seem to
still his reaction.
Katie’s chin went up and leveled Cole with a stare of her own.
“Well, we’ll see what Scott thinks when he gets here.” Her voice was acid, but the
moisture in her eyes betrayed how deep the cut of his remark had gone.
“You look beautiful,” James said again. “It’s just that you’re more grown up than
we’ve realized. Now, why don’t you go and get that wrap you bought the other day.”
Katie nodded and turned toward the house, offering a backside view that made Cole
swear under his breath.
“Or your winter coat would do,” Cole yelled to the bang of the screen door.
James shot him a look.
“What?” Cole lifted his hands in defense. “It gets cold at night.”
In the near distance there was a thump of bass and the sound of tires turning hard
onto the dirt drive. They watched a sun-faded orange Mustang, with two thick racing
stripes down the middle, skid to a stop. The back, oversized tires spun, coughing
up a cloud of dust. The motor cut off, and a body made up of all legs and arms unfolded
from the driver side. His brown hair brushed his collar and fell just above his eyes.
His face was baby smooth and saved from being too pretty by a squarish jaw. With a
few more years and a lot more testosterone, his soft features would angle out to handsome,
but for the life of him, Cole couldn’t imagine what Katie saw in him.
Then the boy walked up the stairs and smiled. And Cole had to hand it to him. The
kid knew charm. That or it had been bred into him from generations of womanizers.
His teeth were white and perfectly straight, no doubt courtesy of an orthodontist,
and his brows arched into the open friendliness of a used car salesman, or as Cole
saw it, a seducer of innocents.
“Hi.” He extended a hand toward James. “I’m Scott Peterson, Katie’s date.”
James clasped the boy’s hand. “Mr. Harris, and this here is Cole, our neighbor and
good family friend.”
Cole grunted a hello, but didn’t offer a handshake.
“Now, Scott,” James said, “I’m going to assume, because Katie chose you and she’s
a good judge of character, that you’re a decent man. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t
some ground rules.” And then James proceeded to go down the list. The curfew—midnight.
The destination—Prom and back only. The driving—observe all posted speed limits. And
absolutely, under no circumstances, any drinking.
The boy nodded and flashed his best “you can trust me” smile, letting James know that
he was in complete agreement. The muscle in Cole’s neck twitched in time with his
pulse, something that happened when he was within smelling distance of bull.
The screen door slammed open. There stood Katie, with no more than a see-through scarf
for a wrap, and a look of the devil in her eyes. Cole watched as Scott’s eyes widened
and saw the flare of desire burn hot and fast. Cole’s fist tightened. Before he knew
it, his hand drew back, and his foot stepped forward.
James’s fingers clamped down hard on Cole’s shoulder like a vise of steel. “Have a
good time, kids. And remember, the Prom and back, nowhere else.”
Katie pecked her father on the cheek and hurried to the car door that Scott held open
for her. With a toss of her head, Katie turned and blew her father a kiss. But Cole
knew better. The kiss was meant for him, as well as the message that flashed in her
amber eyes. Katie had picked up the gauntlet to the challenge he’d inadvertently thrown
down.
Both men stood and watched their only little girl drive off into the sunset, in a
faded orange Mustang. One with a feeling of sadness in his heart, and the other with
a pit of worry in his stomach, because he knew there was only one thing more rash
than Katie. And that was Katie with something to prove.
Chapter 8
Katie was in trouble.
She had made a mistake, a series of them actually. Her plan to make Cole jealous had
backfired. Instead of declaring his undying love, he’d made snide remarks. Instead
of desire flashing in his eyes, she saw censure and anger.
At first she’d barely kept herself from bursting into tears, but then after her vision
cleared, raw anger burned straight to her core. She’d show him. Show him she was desirable,
show him he wasn’t the only man, that there were others who would want and appreciate
her.
Self-righteous indignation was a good thing, a powerful thing. It had carried her
through the suggestive dances at Prom, had given her the courage to flirt outrageously,
and even had her saying yes to leaving alone with Scott. Nope, the emotional high
hadn’t failed her when Scott dared her to take a few sips of vodka he’d swiped from
his daddy’s wet bar. She’d shrugged and carelessly flashed an “eat your heart out”
smile as she drank straight from the bottle.
And now she was in it deep.
Foreboding tightened in her stomach. It forced its way past the hazy cloud in her
head as Scott sped through the city, swerving in and out of traffic to the notorious
Star Gazer’s point. Scott parked his car a little ways off the dirt road, and then
killed the engine. He left the radio on and soft country music hummed through the
speakers.
In the dashboard’s dim light, Katie could make out the white of Scott’s teeth as he
smiled. He took another swig from the bottle and passed it to her. Katie shook her
head. Drinking sure as hell had been mistake number one, and now her “eat your heart
out” moment was biting her in the ass. Her gut rolled, usually a telltale warning
signal, but her fuzzy brain couldn’t process whether it was the reaction to alcohol
on an empty stomach, or something far worse.
“Come on, honey,” Scott said, his eyes already dulled by drink, and his speech not
much better.
“One of us has to drive home,” Katie said. She wiped her moist palms on her legs.
When had she started sweating? Katie took a deep breath and rubbed hard at her temples.
Maybe there was still a way for her to get home before Pa found out what had happened.
“Yeah right, if you think I’m letting you get behind the wheel of my car, you’ve got
another thought coming.” Scott laughed at his own joke as if all of a sudden he was
Comedian of the Year.
Katie did a mental eye roll. Correction, mistake number one was asking Scott to the
Prom in the first place. She had wanted a guy who had a chance of making Cole jealous,
and Scott was the closest she could find. He was tall, handsome, and had a bit of
“daddy’s money” to flaunt. Choosing Scott had been mean. She’d known it then. Cole’s
hang-up was money. Katie, on the other hand, could’ve cared less. She saw things much
more simply. She loved Cole and loved the ranch. There was no other place she’d rather
be. But Cole didn’t get that. He only saw the negatives, only the things missing.
He didn’t understand that some things in life couldn’t be worked for or bought. Some
things were just . . . well, free.
Scott’s hand slid to her knee, his thumb making small circles against her thigh. She
shifted her leg and hoped he’d get the point; she really didn’t want to smack him.
“What’s wrong?” Scott’s body shifted in his seat, crowding her against the passenger
door, his gaze glued to her chest. “You wore that dress for a reason. Let’s see if
you’re worth the sixty bucks I dropped at dinner.”
Jerk. She’d spent more than that on her dress, but his comment succeeded in making
her feel cheap. Katie moved the wrap to cover her chest and tugged at the hem of her
skirt. It hadn’t seemed too short in her bedroom when she was imagining Cole looking
at her, but now . . .
“Here, take a little more. This’ll relax you.” He slurred over the words as he shoved
the bottle under her nose. The sickening smell of alcohol had her gagging in response.
She pushed it out of her face and threw him a dirty look. Didn’t he realize that if
he needed to get his date drunk, then maybe there was something wrong with his seduction?
“Just take me home, Scott.” But even that wasn’t the best plan. Maybe if she kept
alert and made him drive with the windows down, she could keep him from killing them
both.
“No way. We just got here.” His hand slipped its way passed her closed thighs. “This
is what you wanted when you asked me to the Prom, right?”
This was what she’d thought she wanted for one brief flash of stupidity, but now she
just wanted to be home, curled up in bed with a good book.
She pushed his hand off. “Stop,” she said with force, surprised at how far his hand
had gotten.
“All right, all right, don’t get your panties in a wad. How about a kiss then? What’s
the big deal in that?” But there was a twinge of anger in his voice that had Katie’s
stomach doing cartwheels. She placed her hand flat against her belly and tried to
take up as little room as possible.
He moved forward, his breath hot and stale on her cheek, and placed one hand on either
side of her hips, pinning her in.
Katie’s gaze darted outside the window. It was dark. They’d driven for over a quarter
of a mile once they’d left the main highway. There was nothing around, not a streetlight,
not a gas station. Just darkness, blacker than midnight under a skillet. She bit her
lip and glanced at the clock on the dash—11:27. Damn, she didn’t have time for this;
she’d be in so much trouble if she broke curfew. Even worse trouble if her pa found
out she was in a car with someone who had been drinking.
“Then you’ll take me home?” she asked. She couldn’t believe she was bartering for
a ride, but her self-esteem had gone a few too many rounds with a bucking bull, and
now she felt very small.
“Sure, no problem.” He leaned on in. His wet lips opened on contact as he slipped
his tongue between her teeth. His mouth mashed against her face, cutting off her breath
as his tongue invaded, making her gag.
Katie turned her head and pushed hard against his chest. “Okay, enough. Now take me
home.”
“Come on,” he pleaded and lowered his head for another kiss.
“No, Scott. Let’s go, I need to get home.” Katie tried to keep strong, but her voice
cracked.
“That’s it? Really?” Scott slammed his hand into the seat next to her head. Anger
distorted his features, making him ugly. How had she ever thought he was cute? “I
knew you were a prude, but when I saw you in that dress I thought you’d at least be
cool. You’re nothing but a dick tease, and not a very good one at that.”
In another time, another place she would’ve called him out on that. She would’ve laid
into him. She would’ve told him that his acne wasn’t as cleared up as he thought,
and that his breath stank, and that no real man would pressure a girl to prostitute
herself for a ride home. But Katie was scared.
Her gut twisted even more. She was blessed with two men who sniffed and prowled around
like alpha dogs, growling at anyone who threatened her. Be it either a bruised knee
or a bruised ego, all she had to do was call and they’d be there to pick her up and
brush her off.
So the taste of powerlessness was new to her, and though bitter, she swallowed hard
and fortified her spine. Katie shrugged her shoulders like his words didn’t hurt,
and threw a look like she was bored. “Whatever, let’s just go.”
“Whatever? You know what? Whatever this . . .” He opened the car door and pushed.
Katie barely caught herself before sprawling hard to the ground. Her hand stung as
the bite of gravel cut into her palm, but she quickly found her feet. “Are you serious?”
she yelled at the open door.
“Oh yeah,” he screamed, then added foul curses for good measure. With an evil smile
he reached over and slammed the door. The engine revved as he peeled out, coughing
up a cloud of dust. For a long moment she watched the car fishtail back onto the dirt
road, and she waited for him to stop and let her back in. Then her brain unfroze and
panic rushed in like a kick to the head. He was going to leave her here alone, stranded
in the dark, with nothing.
“Wait!” She chased after the car in three-inch heels. “My purse! My phone! You can’t
leave me here without my phone.” She yanked off her shoe, breaking the strap, and
threw it, aiming for the rear window.
The red taillights grew small and a hand poked out the driver’s side window. With
a wave and a mocking beep of the horn he was gone. Katie limped to a stop. This seemed
like the blackest of all nights and this road the most deserted of all places.
Something sharp pierced the tender flesh of her foot as the dark shadows swarmed around
her. She bit back a cry, then stopped and slowly sank to her heels, finally letting
the tears come.
 
 
Thank you, God.
Cole’s prayer wasn’t colored by sacrilege—no, it was heartfelt, with a profound sense
of appreciation. He took another long pull from the icy-cold beer by his bedside table
and placed it back down.
Tonight was Friday. He’d made it through the week. That alone was enough for his silent
thanksgiving, but it got better. He’d already done his due diligence on half a six-pack
of beer and one shot of cheap tequila. He was riding the fine edge between drunk and
the perfect buzz. And if that wasn’t enough, then praise God, because all signs indicated
that he was going to get laid tonight.
The bottle-dyed redhead—because no one had hair naturally that color—kissed his bare
chest, her tongue making small circles around strategic parts of his anatomy. Her
name was Veronica, and he’d met up with her at the local bar. More often than not,
he ended up alone, not having enough money or the patience to keep the drinks coming
and pull off a successful “pick-up.” But this time the sweetest of all combinations
won out.
She was desperate, and he was willing. It was a perfect end to a long week, if you
asked him.
In the harsh light of the liquor store, Veronica had looked tired, and a bit older
than her self-proclaimed age of thirty. But here, in the delicious darkness of his
bedroom, her body was soft, and his memory forgiving. It helped that her mouth hovered
somewhere around his navel, and, good Lord, she began fumbling with his belt buckle.
He held his breath. If she was going to do what he really, really hoped she was going
to do, then he’d give thanks to all the apostles and saints.
He was so tired. Bone tired, weary tired, old-man-sick-of-living tired. A body in
his twenties had no business feeling like this, but he did. He worked from dawn to
dusk and then some. The chores always kept coming, and the bills never stopped. At
this rate, he’d be keeping his father company, and then there were the days when
that
thought didn’t seem so terrible.
So yeah, he deserved a bit of reprieve from the grind, dammit. Then Cole shook his
head. Whatever he did, he’d better keep his mouth shut. And he was so close. All he
had to do was keep his stupid mouth from flapping and not mess this up.
Veronica giggled. “This belt buckle is a bit tricky.”
It was a standard freaking belt buckle, but she was drunk—and again he thought, willing—so
he restrained a sigh and helped her out. Lord knows anything to move the process along.
Come on, come on, come on already.
“Oh my, what do we have here?” she said in what he believed was supposed to be a sexy
voice, but he just needed her to be quiet.
And then she was . . . and he let out a sigh. If he was less of a man, he might have
wept. As it was, he closed his eyes and let his body relax for the first time in weeks.
A loud buzzing sounded by his ear. A vibration of plastic against glass. He slitted
his eyes and glared at the bedside table. His phone went still, then continued its
happy rhythm against one of his empty beer bottles. He growled, actually produced
an animal-like sound deep in his throat. He decided to ignore the call, then reached
for his phone instead.
The caller ID flashed “unknown.” There was no earthly or logical reason to answer,
except somewhere in his fuzzed-out brain he knew Katie was not home safe in her bed.
That was reason enough.
He flipped the phone open and grunted. “What?”
A computerized voice crackled on the line. “To accept a collect call from . . . Katie
. . . please press one.”
Hot and cold rushed through his veins, burning the alcohol from his brain like a wildfire.
In the same moment he pushed Veronica off and strained to see the keypad in the dark.
He pressed where he thought the number one should be. “Katie? Katie, what’s wrong?
Where are you?”
In a voice so quiet he could barely hear through the crackling of the poor connection,
she said, “Cole, come get me.”
 
 
He shouldn’t be driving. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over for a DUI.
Yeah, he should be home, in bed, with a . . . but the way Katie had said his name,
her voice all scared and small, had twisted his gut.

Other books

A Life Less Pink by Zenina Masters
Steal Me Away by Cerise Deland
The Food Police by Jayson Lusk
A Murder In Passing by Mark de Castrique
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
Walk (Gentry Boys) by Cora Brent
Tale of Samuel Whiskers by Potter, Beatrix
The Hurricane by Howey, Hugh
Brad's Bachelor Party by River Jaymes


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024