Free Welcome to Paradise by Carol Grace

always wonder, I'd always be afraid she'd leave.” He stared into the dying embers. “Nope. What do they say? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I won't take another chance.”
    There was a long silence where the sadness and the self-pity threatened to come rushing back. But he shook off the cobwebs of memory and stretched his arms over his head. Regarding her with narrowed eyes, he said, “I don't know why I'm telling you all this.”
    “Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger,” she said.
    “Maybe. I know I haven't mentioned her name in two years. Thought I'd forgotten her.” God knew he'd tried.
    “I got the impression from the clerk in the general store that you were something of a ladies' man.”
    “Don't believe everything you hear.”
    “You mean you don't go out with women?”
    “Of course I go out with women. I just don't get serious. And neither do they. Works out fine. Probably it was all for the best, Joanne's leaving. She knew something I didn't know at the time. I'm not the marrying kind.”
    “I guess that's how I feel, too,” she said. “I've had enough marriage to last the rest of my life.”
    “I can't believe that,” he said, stretching his legs out toward the fire and looking at her with amazement. “Somebody else will come along and snap you up. Because he was a fool to let you go.”
    Her eyes widened. “That must be the wine talking. That's the nicest thing you've said to me.”
    Uh-oh. What had he done? Gone and made a personal remark to his neighbor. It meant nothing, but she might think it did. Now it was time to go home. Now, before he got sentimental and said something else. He set his cup on the ground and stood, feeling just a tad unsteady on his feet. The wine might be talking, but the wine was going to have a hard time walking. He took a step backward and tripped over a root.
    Alarmed, she reached out to take his arm. “Are you okay?” she asked. The concern in her voice was touching.
    He took her arms and looked into her eyes. “I'm fine,” he said. God, she was beautiful by firelight She was beautiful, sympathetic and understanding, too. She even smelled good. Like flowers. Even though there wasn't a flower within spitting distance.
    Why did she have to inherit the land he wanted? If she was just some tourist they could have one hell of a fling this summer. Because he had a feeling it might be just what she needed. Him, too. A summer romance to end all summer romances. Something to remember. Or forget. Whatever.
    “I could walk you home,” she offered, drawing her delicate eyebrows together.
    “But then I'd have to walk you back,” he said.
    “On account of all those bobcats and mountain lions?”
    He nodded. “Or I could stay right here in your hammock. With you.” He paused, watching her, waiting for her reaction. He loved to see her get mad. See her eyes flash and her face turn red. But she didn't get mad. Not this time. A series of emotions crossed her face. Maybe she was tempted to say yes. Or was that just wishful thinking? “That way nobody has to walk anybody anywhere,” he said with an engaging smile, as if it was the most logical solution.
    “I don't think so,” she said with a determined lift of her chin. “I didn't come to Colorado to indulge in some romantic fantasy.”
    “I know. You came to make a fat farm out of a broken-down hot-springs resort. Thanks for reminding me. And thanks for the dinner.” He reached for his hat, and slammed it tight onto his head. “Good night.”
    He stumbled more than once on his way home, strayed off the trail in the dark and bumped into more than one tree. What a night. He'd drunk too much wine. Her fault, for refilling his cup. He'd spilled his guts to a woman he didn't know. Her fault again. She'd acted so sympathetic, so understanding. Easier to talk to a stranger, she said. So easy he found himself talking about matters that were no concern of hers.
    Then he'd made an overture and