Page 33 of The Risks of Reuniting (Love Connections #1)

Chloe

Somehow our Inka Market shopping day transitioned into lunch out, and then taking another taxi to a huge mall called Jockey Plaza.

I'm out of money and luggage space, and I'm not a shopper by nature, but Rachelle is insatiable and her happiness makes it fun in a way I'd never enjoy at home.

We take about a million pictures, and she's promised to send them all to me when we get back to the States.

We eat dinner at a sushi bar in the mall and Rachelle talks us into another hour of shopping before I have to put a stop to it. It's nine p.m. and I'm dead on my feet.

We slip into another cab and sure enough, I'm pressed against Holt once more, but this time I relax into it.

We've been together all day, holding hands, sharing ideas for souvenirs, and it's so close to old times that more of my walls are crumbling at the reminder of how well we jive.

The drive back to the Lifting Hope compound isn't long in miles, but it's long in traffic, and about ten minutes into the ride I close my eyes and drop my head to Holt's shoulder.

He shifts to make it more comfortable for my neck and reaches for my hand, pulling it into his lap.

He plays with my fingers and kisses the top of my head and I'm melting with every caress.

It soothes me to sleep and I'm woken up by Holt squeezing my hand and Rachelle, who was sitting on my other side, shaking my shoulder.

"Chlo, we're back," Holt whispers .

I sit up and yawn, and follow him out of the car. The four of us stand at the base of the hill holding our shopping bags, and Rachelle puffs out a breath.

"I don't think I can make it up," she says. "Call Carlos to come get us."

The Lifting Hope shuttle makes it through these alleyways, but gas is treasured and only used for official business. Our shopping day would not be considered official.

"Come, let's go," Cesar says with good cheer. "We are strong." He takes several of Rachelle's loaded down shopping bags out of her hands and lifts them high. "See, strong. I will carry, you walk."

Rachelle smiles at him, and holds up the two bags he left her with. "My hero."

I glance over at Holt with a grin. "Cesar is very romantic."

He puts his arm around my waist and gets me moving forward, following heroic Cesar and sluggish Rachelle up the incline.

As we start moving his arm drops from around me, and I'm okay with it.

Hiking with someone's arm around you only makes it harder – I don't care how romantic it sounds.

We're all too tired to talk much, and I'm content to slide over memories of this entire day while we walk.

Holt holding my hand, his little touches, our apologies to each other – it's been a lot.

It feels like it could be building to something, and for the first time I'm not afraid of that.

I spend the hike thinking of the good times between us.

Holt said that once he'd stopped being angry, he'd become grateful, and I like that thought.

As my memories bounce around I see them through this new lens and know that there was far more good than bad, far more love than hurt.

I can forgive us for being young and stubborn.

I look at the shacks around us, and down over the view of Lima, and think that if I could risk coming here, I could risk letting Holt back in.

Lima has given me more than I could have asked for, and I think Holt could too.

Life is about learning, and growing – stretching out of the boxes we create for ourselves. I think I'm ready to unbox my life.

We make it to the gate and all turn toward my and Rachelle's bunkroom. Cesar follows Rachelle inside, still carrying her bags, and giggles and kisses him on the cheek as she directs him where to set them. I move to follow them inside, but Holt stalls me with a hand around my forearm.

"Chloe?" he murmurs.

I stop and turn to face him, and he still holds my arm, his thumb lightly scraping up and down the inside where my skin is softer.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"I have months' worth of thoughts and I'm not sure if I should say anything, or stay quiet."

I twist my arm and take his hand in mine. "Me too."

"I have another apology."

My eyes go round. "Oh, yeah?"

"I know you don't want it, but I really am sorry for what I said after church last Sunday, about marrying you and everything.

" I nod, accepting that this needs to be aired out.

"It was in a heated moment, yes, but it was bad timing, and I shouldn't have said it in front of others like that.

Those were private thoughts, and feelings. "

I give his hand a squeeze and then yawn big enough that I have to cover it with my hand. "I understand," I say when the yawn fades. "You're forgiven."

He looks relieved, but also like he has so much more to say. His expression is slightly disappointed when he lets go of my hand and steps back. "You need to go to bed. You're tired. "

I smile. "So tired. But I had the best day, and we can talk soon. Thank you."

I can tell that he wants to rush ahead at this, but he's holding back for me to catch up, and I'm grateful even as he gives a sad little wave and we both turn and go our separate ways.

Rachelle is unpacking her bags and laying out her purchases when I enter the bunk room.

She smiles over at me, still somehow looking fresh and raring to go.

Maybe it's her life in Georgia, where humidity is a reality, that keeps her body looking unaffected.

My dry Utah everything doesn't know what to do with all this moisture.

"Peru is a magical place," she sings. "Look at all this fabulous stuff."

"It really is," I agree.

I put my own bags on my bed and kick off my shoes and socks, wiggling my aching toes with a sigh. I'm getting ready to pull my pajamas out of the dresser when a knock sounds at our door. I look at Rachelle and she shrugs. I'm moving to the door when it sounds again.

"Must be urgent," I say with a confused frown. "Did you forget something?"

She shakes her head. "No. Maybe it's Dr. J with an emergency?"

"Oh, I hope not. I'm too tired to do dental work with any skill tonight," I moan, and she hums her agreement.

But when I open the door it's to the sight of Holt's fist getting ready to knock again.

"Holt?" I ask, confused. He steps back from the door a few steps, and I follow until I'm standing a foot or so away from our door, too, the light from our room fading as my bare feet connect with the cold dirt.

"Did you forget something?" He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "Are you alright?" I ask.

"Not really," he states .

Then, his eyes fasten on mine and with enough speed that I don't have time to really process what's coming, he's closed the distance between us, wrapped his arms around my lower back, and is dipping his head to press his lips to mine.

At first contact I freeze, confused and unsure, but I feel his entire body adjust to pull me closer and I can't help but respond.

My arms snake up to wrap around his shoulders, and I return the kiss.

It's soft and lovely, and my hands climb up his neckline and back down, coasting over his shoulders in an exploration, finding him once more.

The kiss deepens and I go up onto my toes to get closer. It's good, so good. My mouth knows just how to kiss him, and what move he'll make next, and I recognize his scent as it washes over me. This is Holt, my Holt , my heart beats out. It's him, it's him. He's here. Thank goodness.

His hands slide from holding me close to trailing up my back before grabbing at my hips, and I'm drowning in his nearness and familiarity, and I wouldn't stop it even if I could.

He makes a sound in his throat that has me reaching for his jawline, letting my fingers run over the scruff of his beard, loving how prickly it is.

He pulls away to take a breath and whispers against my lips. "I miss this, and you, and all of it."

I smile, small and soft. "I miss you too."

"Every single day, Chlo. Every day." His words are heartfelt and I believe them. "We messed up. Last year. We . . ."

He seems out of words, or too nervous to say them, as I go back down to flat feet and he follows, tipping his forehead against mine as he pushes a palm against the small of my back to keep me close.

"Holt . . ." I start.

He presses a quick kiss against my lips. "Do you think we can fix this? "

Guess he dared to say it after all. I can't help but give him another kiss of my own, and he answers it by taking us on another little kiss-fest journey until we have to breathe again.

My body is a riot of unhinged confetti cannons, and I can't reel it in.

Even after the kiss ends, I continue to seek contact with him, running my hands over his chest and down his arms.

"I want to," I say, forcing the words out. "But I'm . . . nervous."

"I am too," he admits.

"I can't go through that again. I can't say yes if it's temporary.

And you're still in North Carolina and I'm still in Utah," I say, my heartrate slowing as reality creeps back in.

I look straight into his eyes and find they're filled with the same desperate longing I feel.

"None of the things that separated us have changed. "

He takes my face between his work-roughened hands and looks me dead in the eye. "How about we don't logic this out right now."

I smile, because that's exactly where my head was going and he knew it. "You want me to live in la-la-land?" I joke.

He nods rapidly. "Yes. Join me here. It's happy."

I lean forward and kiss his chin. "It is pretty cozy."

He drops his head to meet my lips, light and soft, still holding my face. The kiss is tender and gentle and makes my toes curl in the dirt.

"Believe me, I know you're in Utah and I'm in North Carolina – but I think we're also both in hell a little bit, and I can't go on like that."

"You're not wrong," I say. It's been brutal.