Page 35 of The Risks of Reuniting (Love Connections #1)

Holt

Our last week in Peru didn't go exactly how it would have if we were tourists.

I had romantic dreams of taking Chloe to the Larco Museum, and over to Miraflores to the Park of Love.

Instead, we both found ourselves buried in a rush to get as much done as possible.

The days were long, with me working construction around the hillside village with Cesar from daybreak to sundown, and Chloe refusing to let Dr. J turn down a single patient.

We both had a sort of desperation to leave things better, and I love that we feel the same about it.

Now it's our last night in Peru. Chloe, Rachelle, Cesar and I are sitting in the shadows along the canteen wall.

We dragged chairs out after a late dinner and our trays still sit at our feet as we lazily watch the scene around us.

The center throws a small going away party for the volunteers on their last night.

The cook staff goes all out with delicious food, and the other workers and volunteers have set up a handful of gas lanterns around the courtyard area where they now dance to soft, slow music. It's soothing.

Rachelle is braiding and unbraiding her blonde hair as she watches. "That guy is cute," she says, pointing at a young volunteer who I think is from Spain. "Why did I not notice him until tonight?"

Cesar tilts his head to look at her with a grin. "Because, amiga, I was too handsome and you see me. "

Rachelle laughs and takes his hand in hers. "You're right. You stole my heart." She slaps a hand over her chest. "No more men for me."

Cesar chuckles. "My abuela will be so happy."

Rachelle pulls out her ever-present phone and leans close to him. "Take a picture for your grandma," she says, and Cesar presses his head close and smiles alongside her.

"Send me a copy of that," I say, feeling nostalgic. I don't want to someday forget their faces.

Rachelle nods, and I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket as the picture comes through.

"I don't know how Carlos does it," Chloe says, referring to the man who runs the humanitarian center. "He's so happy and nice, but it's hard work to get volunteers, and financing, and keep things running. I admire him." She tugs at her necklaces as she watches Carlos dancing with his wife, Lara.

"I admire him too," I say, looking around at the small cluster of buildings that makes up this place. It could use some love, but it's orderly and has a happy spirit about it. "People like Carlos and Lara are going straight to heaven."

Chloe nods. "Definitely."

"Do you want to dance?" I turn to her and ask. "It's our last night in Peru, and I'd regret not dancing with you under the cloudy haze and flickering gas lights."

She laughs and stands as I do. Cesar jumps up too, reaching a hand out for Rachelle, who beams up at him and takes it.

The four of us walk into the middle of the dirt yard and I pull Chloe into a standard dance hold.

I notice Cesar do the same with Rachelle and smile at the fact that she's several inches taller than him, and his head is level with her nose .

Rachelle sees me looking and gives me a wink before she pulls Cesar closer and lays her cheek against the top of his head. Cesar's smile fills his face as he starts moving them in slow turns around the open space. She's made his night.

"Cesar is adorable," Chloe sighs as she leans more fully against me. "I'm so glad I know him. Rachelle too. There was a chance I wouldn't like my roommate, and I'm seriously thankful it didn't happen that way."

"I don't know many terrible people who come on trips like this," I respond, inhaling the citrus scent of her hair.

"True," she huffs a laugh.

We dance in silence for a few moments, and I think how lucky I am to have her in my arms.

Her shoulders shake, and I look down at her. "Do you remember when we were studying in the library at the U and you told me you had a funny video to show me, and swore your phone was on silent?"

I smile. "Yeah. But it wasn't, and who knew donkeys could bray so loudly?"

We both laugh at the memory, and she continues on with another.

"How about that time that I wrote you a really sappy and heartfelt note, signed simply 'C' and left it in what I thought was your backpack, only to find out you'd never been at the library that night, and some random person was wandering around campus wondering who 'C' was, and searching for their soulmate? "

My laugh is a loud gust of air and I bend my head to press my lips against her hair. "That was so funny, and you never did tell me what you wrote."

She shakes her head. "That was for the owner of that backpack, and it's a private matter. "

"You know what I remember?" I ask. "The fateful night I learned that you cannot sing. Can . . . not. At all."

She slaps at my back and looks up to scowl at me. "That was a microphone issue."

I laugh, tossing my head back. "If it was a microphone issue you'd have noticed that something was off as soon as you went for it, but no, you kept right on wailing out a tune like everything was normal."

She pinches my upper arm and fights a laugh herself. "That is not true. I noticed right away, but I was already in it and felt compelled to finish what I'd started."

"The entire place fell silent, staring. How could that sound be coming out of such a pretty face?"

She steps out of my arms and gives me a look. "They were mesmerized."

"Horrified."

"I was given five guy's phone numbers that night."

My amusement continues, but I fake a stern face and pull her back against me, getting us swaying again. "Now that I believe. You were always the most tempting woman in the room."

She rests her cheek against my shoulder. "Exactly."

"There had to be something wrong with you, and now we know, so I can stop being afraid of finding it."

I can practically feel her eyes roll. "Oh my gosh, Holt. I'm never singing in front of you again."

My right hand traces lighting up and down her back, as I hold her small hand in my left. "All right, I'll give you a chance to fight back. What's my flaw?"

"Hmmm . . ." She tickles lightly at my shoulder with her free hand.

"Arrogance, conceit, ego-maniac behavior .

. ." I tickle her ribs and she squirms. "Fine, it's your inability to make your bed and put your laundry away before it wrinkles in the basket.

What kind of monster doesn't care about tidiness? "

"Baby, I'm so tidy now, you don't even know. My roommate, Brock, calls me Mr. Clean."

"Lies," she murmurs on a chuckle.

"Not lies. I've turned over a new leaf. I now see the value in running an orderly life."

"More lies," she laughs, leaning up to press a kiss on the side of my neck.

It completely distracts me and I squeeze her waist. She understands the message and kisses me again, this time on my jawline.

She's all I can smell, feel, hear, and I am so gone for her that the entire world ceases to exist. Her lips find my cheek, and the corner of my mouth, and my chin, and she is weaving a web that will never break if I have anything to say about it.

"Chloe," I say her name under my breath, aware that we're not alone, but needing her lips on mine.

She smiles, confident and aware of her power in this moment, and gives me what I want.

Actually, she doesn't give me entirely what I want.

She does kiss me, but it's brief and appropriate for the fact that we're in the middle of a courtyard filled with people.

I'm lucky I got her kisses at all, considering she isn't much for public displays.

"What are you most excited for about going home?" I ask her, trying desperately to redirect my thoughts away from the feel of her in my arms.

She settles back against me, and I can hear music and voices again. "My people. I'm looking forward to seeing them."

"Not safe water, and flushing toilets, and rat-free bedrooms?" I ask.

She wrinkles her nose. "Obviously, yes. But those things aren't as hard as being away from the ones I love."

I know she doesn't mean for that to prick at my conscience, but it does a little. Because if I had my way, I'd kidnap Chloe and she'd live with me, and she'd be all mine. I'm pretty selfish these days.

"What about you?" she asks.

"I haven't seen my parents in person for a while, so I'm looking forward to that."

She nods. "How long has it been?"

"Since Christmas."

She pats my arm. "That's too long."

I love that she understands it. So many people don't, but Chloe knows firsthand how tight my family of three is.

"What will you miss most about being here?" I ask.

She sighs. "It feels like a dream. Helping people who need it so much, it's been .

. . an honor to serve them. I'll miss that.

" She pauses. "And moments like these. I know the real world won't be the same.

Here it feels like we've been given this tiny slice of time to get reacquainted without all the pressures of life, and I don't want the shell around us to crack. "

"It doesn't have to crack," I say, running my fingers down her spine.

Her voice is a little sad when she responds. "I wish that were true."

"New mission – should you choose to accept. Keep the shell intact."

She laughs. "Yes, sir. Operation Shell Life commences."

I chuckle too and hug her close, kiss her hair, and send all the good vibes into the universe, praying that when the shell does crack, it won't take us with it.