Clara Knows Best

“Stop looking at my mouth, Clara.” “I’m not,” she said immediately. “You want me to kiss you or something?” “Of course not,” she said, but her chocolatey brown eyes said the exact opposite. Once upon a time, I was the foster brother Clara lived to annoy, but it's been years since I went no-contact with her family and a lot has changed since then. Now I'm back in this small West Texas town for three weeks, a successful trauma surgeon with a bone to pick.I've been trying not to notice how very not-annoying the Wilders' spoiled little princess has become, but it's an uphill battle. Clara doesn't know the details of my falling-out with her parents, but I haven't forgotten their heartbreaking betrayal, and I can't afford to get distracted by purple nail polish and cute pajamas.But something about Clara has me jumping half-naked into an icy lake, picking a fight with an oil rig worker, and pulling off a couple of small miracles. If all I wanted was to get a little closure and hightail it back to the big city, why am I dragging my cowboy boots about leaving? (And why am I wearing a Stetson?)No matter how hard I fight the attraction heating up between us, all my doubts about the past and plans for the future are merging into a question that only Clara can answer.