Read Welcome to Paradise for Free Online Page B

stuff it in his mouth. The guy hardly every said more than two words to a stranger. Now he wouldn't shut up.
    “Great band,” Barney said enthusiastically. “You gotta hear these guys, Miss....”
    “Hudson. Chloe Hudson.”
    Barney reached across the bar and extended his hand. “Not any relation to Horatio?”
    Zeb clenched his teeth. If he acted fast, he could still throw her over his shoulder, run down the street and dump her in the back of his truck.
    But before he could move, she was shaking Barney's hand and saying, “I'm his great-granddaughter.”
    “No kidding,” Barney said.
    “No kidding,” Zeb echoed. “Now, if you're finished, I gotta be getting back.”
    “Of course.” She turned to Barney. “Thanks for the coffee. I'll see you Friday. I'm looking forward to it.”
    Zeb breathed a sigh of relief. It could have been worse. Much worse. If he hadn't been there, if they'd continued their conversation Barney might have spilled everything. He and Chloe walked down the boardwalk to the truck in silence. Zeb stared morosely into the distance, wondering how in the hell he was going to get rid of her, now that she had a sleeping bag and a hammock.
    Chloe, on the other hand, had a spring to her step that belied her sleepless night. She'd discovered a bar straight out of the Old West, a bar with authentic music and hopefully real, authentic cowboys that would be an attraction for her guests, give them something to look forward to on the weekends. She'd check it out and write it up for her brochures.
    So Zeb Bowie raised prime beef, and was entrepreneurial enough to sell it in town, getting his name out. Not just a tough rancher, she thought. Not just a gorgeous macho man who exuded sex appeal. He was a businessman too. But why didn't he want her to be there on Friday night, to hear the music and eat his steak? Was he afraid she'd get in his way? Come between him and someone else? After all, a guy like that was bound to have a girlfriend or two. She had to assure him she'd leave him alone. That she had no interest in him other than as a neighbor.
    She glanced in his direction and was shocked by the rush of sexual desire that made her shiver in the warm summer air. She wanted to touch him. Badly. To plant her hands on his chest and feel his heartbeat through his shirt. Shove his hat off his head and tangle her hands in his sun-streaked hair again. But he had a girlfriend. He must have. That's why he didn't want her hanging around him on Friday night, looking at him like he was her dream of a cowboy come true. He was her neighbor. Nothing more, nothing less. She understood that. She really did.
    “The bartender was friendly,” she said, seeking a safe subject.
    “He's not the bartender, he's the owner.”
    “Well, he couldn't have been nicer,” she said.
    “So you don't believe he was about to tar and feather you when I walked in and saved you.”
    She shook her head. “He didn't even think I was a tourist. Which I'm not.”
    He looked down at her. “Hah. New jeans. Ordering coffee instead of whiskey. You give yourself away every time you open your mouth. 'Can anyone come?”' he mimicked.
    She flushed. “I don't care what you say. The people are nice.”
    He unlocked the door of the truck for her.
    “I hate to take up any more of your time,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat and wedging herself next to the door. “But I really need to pick up some food. Is there a grocery store anywhere around?”
    “Nope,” he said curtly. “Most people grow their own vegetables. Raise their own meat.”
    “What about a roadside stand? Or a farmers' market?”
    “Saturday mornings.”
    “Oh.”
    “I guess we could swing by the co-op,” he said reluctantly.
    “It will only take a few minutes.”
    Chloe told him he didn't have to come into the store with her. She would have liked a few minutes to herself. But he wouldn't leave her alone. He followed her around like a shadow while she forced herself