Page 134 of Clara Knows Best

He glanced down at the cowboy hat on the passenger seat—a silent, unexpected gift from the Colonel—and a small voice inside him whispered,Fortune favors the bold.

“Call Yoli.”

“Calling…Yoli.”

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Clara sipped her margarita—her first andonlymargarita of the evening—and smiled as she watched Yoli belting out “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” Yoli’s first three songs had been for her new husband, but this one was dedicated to her maid of honor.

Clara laughed aloud when Leroy Brown became DeWitt Brown, and the girl named Doris became the girl named Clara. She supposed shehadkind of lived out the story, with one notable exception—DeWitt hadn’t been beaten up by her jealous husband. If only.

“Didn’t realize people were singing ballads about me,” said a voice near her ear. “Kind of embarrassing, actually.”

She almost fell off her chair. “Jesse! Oh, my gosh, what are you doing here?”

“Are you drunk again?” he asked, sliding his arm around her waist the way he had done the last time. But this time he pulled her tight against him.

“No, I—Are we hugging? Okay!” And she put her arms around him, feeling stunned. She’d gotten used to seeing him in officeattire, but the man lookedgoodin a cowboy hat, and she could feel the warmth of his skin through the soft, thin fabric of his T-shirt. She took a deep breath of his musky, minty scent and felt almost giddy with happiness.Don’t let go of me!she wanted to cry, but he was pulling away.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she answered, absurdly pleased. He didn’t say it automatically, but seriously, like he meant it. Her corset top had taken her a ridiculous amount of time to make, but it fit her like a glove, and the short ruffle sleeves were perfect for Texas summer nights. To know that he appreciated the fruits of her labor was incredibly gratifying—especially coming from Mr. “You didn’t hear it from me”!

“I like looking at you,” he added.

“You do?”

“I missed you, Clara.”

What had happened to make the man willing to admit it? Had he been visited by three ghosts? “You did?” was all she could say.

His eyes were serious. “Yeah, I did.”

“This one’s for the lovebirds,” Yoli crooned into the microphone, and launched with unjustified confidence into Etta James’ “At Last.”

Jesse smiled down at her. “Want to dance?”

“Dance?” Her pulse was racing, and she took a deep, steadying breath.Don’t jump to any heartbreaking conclusions, Clara.

“Yeah.” His smile was quizzical, like he half-expected her to turn him down. Or like he wasn’t sure why she was repeating everything he said.

“Okay. Yes,” she managed.

He led her to the front where the tables had been moved for dancing, and turned to face her, pulling her into his arms again. He held one of her hands in his, and she placed the other on hisshoulder. She looked up in surprise when his hand on her lower back tugged her closer as they began to sway to the music.

“What’ve you been doing?” he asked, raising his voice over Yoli.

“Me? Nothing,” she said automatically. Nothing that would explain why he had shown up so suddenly and wanted to slow dance with her, anyway.

“Not what I heard,” he answered, leaning down so his voice was close to her ear. “I heard you’ve been building a design portfolio.”

She blinked. “You’ve talked to Hart?”

“I’ve seen him a few times. He destroyed me on the tennis court. Are you starting a business?”

“No,” she denied. “No, I told you, I don’t like business.”

He smiled. “So you say.”

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