Page 136 of Clara Knows Best

“You just need practice,” she said gently. “It will get easier.”

“I thought maybe I could lavish you with gifts instead.”

She laughed. “Well, have it your way.”

“You’ll know why I do it.”

“Because…you love me?”

“That’s right.”

“I like gifts,” she said.

“You didn’t like the Gatorade.”

“Are you kidding? I loved it. I just hated drinking it.”

“Oh,” he said slowly. “That explains those horrible faces you were making.”

“Shut up,” she said blissfully. “What are you doing now?”

He had knelt down, and he held her hand in both of his, but she knew the man wouldn’t dare to propose to her outside a bar.

“Clara,” he began, and paused.

Sheknewhe wouldn’t, but Jesse Flores in a Stetson, down on one knee with a question in his eyes— it was some powerful imagery, and her inner nine-year-old was squealing like a piglet. “Yes?”

“Go out with me.”

“Okay,” she managed to say very calmly.

“Be my high-maintenance little girlfriend. Go through my stuff. Wax my nostrils, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” she laughed, and tugged on his hand until he stood up again.

“I just wanted it to be official,” he explained.

“It’s official,” she assured him. “Which means you better start answering my texts, among other things.”

“What are you talking about? I always answer your texts.”

“With emojis! Never words.”

“I couldn’t,” he said, rather choppily. “Behind their backs—it didn’t feel right.”

She felt her mouth drop open. “Whose backs?”

“Your parents’, I guess. Everyone’s. When people think of you as a son and brother…it’s serious stuff.” And he did look serious.

“Oh,” she said, impressed. Yes, she supposed that was pretty serious stuff. Yet here he was. “So, does that mean…you talked to all of them about me?”

“I told them I was going to ask you out,” he admitted. “Nash and Beck are pro, Hart says he’s neutral.”

“My mom?”

“Doesn’t want to involve herself in our love lives. Loves me.”

She smiled to hear him say it. “And Dad?”

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