Page 11 of Choosing You

Ash: Understood.

Ash: And where did we land on the smaller festival—yay or nay?

Sloane: I know you all said there was going to be a kissing booth…

Sloane: Which—let’s be honest—is kind of wild in this day and age.

Sloane: They’re almost non-existent at other festivals.

Ash: The group of guys is getting smaller because they’re all getting married.

That made her sit back up again. Was her guy one of them? Had she missed her chance?

Sloane: Okay, then…maybe he’s not even going to be there. I mean…what are the odds?

Ash: LOL! Please, Will’s like a permanent fixture at the kissing booth! And I have a feeling that for the last couple of years, it’s been because of you!

Will! He had a name! Sloane had to be careful not to acknowledge her cousin’s slip of the tongue.

Sloane: Somehow I doubt that. The booth always has a long line, and I can’t imagine any red-blooded American male not wanting to have the opportunity to kiss every girl in a thirty-mile radius.

Ash: Okay, you may have a point there.

Sloane: Of course I do. Anyway, it’s on my calendar, so I’ll see if I can get the time off again.

Ash: But you’re going to do it, right? You’re going to come and kiss him again?

Oh yeah, Sloane thought.Even if it means quitting my job.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but she was going to call it Plan B.

Staring at the screen, she knew Ashlynn was waiting for a response. So, she went with honesty.

Sloane: I’m going to do everything I can to be back here!

Ash: YAY!!

Ash: Okay, I need to get some sleep. Little man might be down for the night, but he’s an early riser. Love you!

Sloane: Love you too!

Rolling onto her side, she put her phone on the charger before falling back against the pillows.

Will.

It was a fairly common name and probably impossible to just look up anywhere on social media. Yawning, she told herself tomorrow—or today, since it was so late—was another day. She’d have to start her sleuthing in the morning.

It wasn’t often that Will had a Saturday off and when he did, he made the most of it by doing what he loved—working on his own cars or going out for long drives.

His family often teased him about having motor oil flowing through his veins, but he didn’t take any offense to it. It was probably true. From the first time his father showed him how to change a tire when he was twelve, Will was hooked on cars. He loved taking them apart, putting them back together and listening to them run. When Devin Maxwell opened Sweetbriar Ridge Auto Care, it was like a dream come true.

Maybe I need bigger dreams, he thought to himself.

But it had been true. A chance to work on cars in his beloved hometown? Perfection.

The weather was clear and a bit on the warm side, but at least there was a breeze. Will stood out in his front yard and stretched, considering the possibilities for the day. He had a ’58 Chevy in his detached garage that he’d been tinkering with for well over a month now. It had been a mess when he found it. A guy in Richmond—who’d been holding on to it and neglecting it for far too long—finally decided to sell it online, and Will jumped at the chance.

It was a labor of love and yet…he wasn’t quite feeling it today. No, today he felt like getting out for a bit. There wasn’t anything going on in town and he didn’t have a particular destination in mind; all he knew was that the road was calling him.

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