Page 56 of Curvy Wives of Willow Creek 5-8

My eyes catch something odd in the engine. One of the components, the alternator, is blackened around the edges. I frown, reaching in to touch it. The metal's still hot, but I don't flinch. The alternator... could've overheated, probably because of a faulty belt.

A sigh escapes me as I let the hood fall with a thud. I turn around, finding Chloe already standing there, one brow arched.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her voice soft but with a hint of worry.

I glance at her, then back at the truck, shrugging.

"It's the alternator. Looks like it overheated. We're going to need a mechanic."

Chloe's face doesn't change. It's neither a frown nor a smile, and it frustrates me that I can't decipher her. I scratch the back of my neck, mustering a reassuring smile.

"You still have the number for that car shop in Willow Creek?"

She shakes her head, "It changed a few years ago, but yes. Here," she fishes her phone out from her pink purse, handing it to me.

I glance at the screen. It's locked. I hand it back to her.

"You forgot to unlock it."

"Oh," she blushes slightly, "the code is Paris."

Paris. The city of love, of romance, something that feels out of reach for a small-town lumberjack like me. The mere thought of taking Chloe there sets my heart pounding. But she won’t, can’t, see me that way.

I swallow the lump in my throat and quickly dial in 'Paris.'. I find the mechanic's number and press dial, only to realize there's no service. The universe really is playing some twisted game with us.

“No service,” I tell her.

"Can you check your phone?" Chloe asks.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell, finding the same lack of service as hers. I turn it to her, showing the 'no service' display.

Chloe sighs, leaning back against the hood of the car.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she murmurs.

My heart sinks at her words. Considering the circumstances, I thought we were managing alright, but it's clear she's not having a good time. I try to muster some form of apology.

"Chloe, I'm sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to the reunion."

She shakes her head, giving me a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's not your fault, Aaron. This day was just destined to be a disaster."

Her words make me feel a little better, but not by much. She then asks if we could walk the rest of the way, to which I quickly shake my head.

"Chloe, it would take us three, maybe five hours to get there on foot. It's nearly nightfall. Trust me, walking down these secluded backroads in the dark isn't the smartest idea."

She raises her eyebrow at me, her arms folding over her chest.

"Well, do you have a better idea?"

Truthfully, my idea isn't any better. It's probably the worst suggestion I could make, but I don't see any other options.

"I've got a tent in the back of the truck," I offer, shrugging. "We could camp out here for the night. It's just open land out there. I doubt there are any animals around."

"You’re not sure?" She repeats, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm pretty sure, Chloe," I assure her. "We'll be safe, trust me. It's better than spending the night cooped up in the truck."

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