Page 60 of Clara Knows Best

“Well, I didn’t want him looking for me tonight,” she said, untying the big bow around her box of chocolates. “So I said I was going to Fort Stockton with you.”

He nodded slowly. “Good. How’d he take it?”

“He seemed fine with it. Told me to have fun.”

“All right. Let me know if you see him again.”

“Okay.”

The Colonel said good-bye, made momentary eye contact with Jesse—one of those ten-minute conversations packed into a glance—and let himself out.

Well, it looked like Jesse’d been assigned to Clara’s security detail for the evening. The best laid plans of mice and men often went awry, and his were no exception. He tried to feel annoyed about it, but instead he was getting…satisfaction? Anticipation?

Col. Wilder himself was the one who had impressed on Jesse that anything worth doing was worth doing well, so his conscience was clear when he pulled a red rose from the vase on the counter, shook off a few drops of water, and faced the adorable woman in the heart sweater.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

20

No sooner had he spoken the words than the grandfather clock softly chimed the half-hour, as though an achievement had been unlocked in a video game, or a childhood dream had been realized.

For here, unbelievably, was Jesse Flores, the grown-up version of all her preadolescent fantasies, wearing a necktie and holding a rose and asking her to be his Valentine. Nine-year-old Clara would have fainted dead away.

Twenty-four-year-old Clara was just glad that she had not choked on the chocolate truffle she’d just bitten into. She badly wanted to say yes, even if he didn’t really mean it and was asking for the wrong reasons. But the fact remained that she had already made plans.

She swallowed the truffle without even tasting it.

Jesse used a paring knife that had been on the counter to cut the long stem off the rose, holding her gaze while he did it. “Please.”

The single syllable hit her like a bolt of lighting, raising her hair on end. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, but reason had not entirely deserted her yet. “Why are you asking me? Because you can’t go home and you waited too long to ask anyone else? Or because you and my dad think I need a bodyguard?”

He smiled, and a dimple appeared in his cheek.

“Okay,” she heard herself say, like a dope. “Wait! No, I told Yoli I would go with her.”

“Yoli,” he appealed.

“Clara, don’t be a fool!” Yoli begged. “Go out with the hot doctor! No offense, Dr. Flores.”

“None taken,” Jesse said handsomely. He gave her another winning smile. “Come on, Clara. Don’t be a fool.”

She knew the smile was calculated to charm her, but it was working anyway. “You can chaperone with us if you want.”

“No, no,” Yoli objected. “Miserable single people only.”

“So what do you say?” he asked.

Clara used all her willpower to sound reluctant. “Okay, fine.”

She froze as he pushed off the counter he’d been leaning against and came very close to her. Thanks to her platform heels, their faces were inches apart. Jesse tucked the shortened stem of the rose very carefully into her hair behind her ear, met her eyes again and smiled.

“Cool,” he said, and turned away to get himself a slice of Oreo pie.

She raised her hands to her flushed cheeks and looked wide-eyed at Yoli, who was fanning herself with a takeout menu and nodding approval.

Clara pulled herself together and offered her friend a piece of dark chocolate.

Yoli selected a bordeaux. “Well, girl, you got a Valentine.”

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