Free Texas Wide Open by KC Klein

face. “What happened?”
    “I . . .” He blinked, his eyes searching hers. “I killed him.” Katie shook her head
     vehemently. “It’s not true. It’s not true, Cole.”
    He closed his eyes as if trying to shut himself away. “And when I saw you there on
     that horse, I died all over again. But this time it was a hundred times worse.”
    She stroked his cheek, silently sighing at the way his whiskers bristled against her
     thumb. He sought comfort, and she wanted to give it. She widened her knees; his hips
     slipped between.
    His eyes opened—wide, ready. His gaze fixed on her mouth. And then she could only
     manage small sips of air.
    Panting, she parted her lips. A need, so strong, rose within her. Tears blurred her
     vision. “I lo—”
    The space between them narrowed. Cole’s head tilted.
    “Cole,” someone shouted in a thick accent.
    He jerked away, startled by the sound of his name. A quick hand over his face, and
     he recovered enough to address Lupe. “Yeah, what’s up?”
    Her blood had sung with the choir of angels at his nearness, then plummeted to wails
     at his departure. And she shook, trying to remember how she got caught somewhere between
     heaven and hell.
    Katie couldn’t make out what Cole said to Lupe. She didn’t care. And then they were
     alone, and her heart raced again. But Cole’s eyes had lost their soft depths, and
     a distance the size of Texas opened between them.
    “If I catch you riding Sweet Thing again,” he said. “I’ll put her down myself.”

Chapter 6
    Present day
     
    Mike Pitt sucked air in through the open space between his front teeth and almost
     dropped the glass he was holding. Damn arthritis. The joints in his right hand seemed
     to seize up at the oddest times, making the chore of cleaning his bar glasses almost
     impossible. He set the tumbler down, threw his towel over his shoulder, and then surveyed
     his life’s work.
    The Pitt wasn’t much to show for twenty years of sweat and blood, especially at this
     time of day. It was quiet, not a lot of traffic this early on a Friday afternoon,
     but it would pick up. There was always an influx of men willing to spend their paychecks
     on booze and women. The sound of pool balls breaking had Mike stepping to the side
     to peer across to the back room.
    He should’ve long ago busted out the wall and made the poolroom into booths for private
     lap dances. What kind of owner was he? There was no money in a poolroom at a strip
     joint . . . ah, he meant exclusive club for men, that’s what it was called these days.
     Whatever his customers wanted to call his place, Mike knew business. And he didn’t
     need men betting their money on a game of billiards, he needed them out here tipping
     his dancers. But he knew he’d be doing no such thing. Having a billiards table at
     his bar was how he could keep his promise to the only woman he’d ever loved. Keep an eye on Nikki for me.
    Well, looking after Mary Beth’s daughter turned out to be more than he’d bargained
     for. What Nikki’s momma failed to mention was that Nikki was a hellion. Well, he guessed
     the apple didn’t roll far from the tree. Mary Beth had been a hellion herself. When
     they’d been kids, Mary Beth sure had brought him to his knees. Well, one knee and
     a ring to be specific. But that was years ago, when he believed in young love and
     when the thought of kneeling didn’t cause him to break out in a cold sweat.
    In Mary Beth’s day she had all the boys panting after her. Shocked the whole town
     when she up and married a half-breed. Not that Mike had anything against Indians,
     but he’d been shocked right along with the town—shocked and brokenhearted. So the
     Logans not only had to fight against the stereotype of being born on the wrong side
     of the tracks, they also had their mother to thank for adding half-breed to their
     lineage.
    He might not be able to do as much as he once had, but he could still keep the law
     in his