Page 5 of The Risks of Reuniting (Love Connections #1)

We arrive at the customs queue and both get in line.

I can technically skip this line and go into the Peruvian queue, which would be faster, but I don't want to lose track of her.

Plus, she looks like such a tourist, and the second she passes from the agent booths into the shopping area adjacent, the sales people are going to be after her.

I don't want her to get too turned around or overwhelmed.

Of course, I'd never tell her these thoughts.

Chloe prides herself on being independent and intelligent.

My caretaking of her always had to be sneaky, but half the fun was in the challenge.

I haven't been challenged for months now. Not that pharmacy school isn't challenging. It's just different.

Chloe gets a little caught up explaining herself and her length of stay to the customs agent, and I finish first. I pretend to be looking at some really tempting duty-free chocolates while I wait, and she makes it through, walking away from the booth with a smile still on her face – clearly proud of herself – right to where I'm standing.

Her smile immediately fades when she sees me. "I didn't think you liked chocolate that much," she says .

I grin. "People change."

She huffs. "Are you following me to make sure I get through this? Because I haven't needed you yet, and I don't expect to."

The words prick and I stiffen. She notices the double meaning and blinks a few times, but doesn't apologize or back pedal. She used to do both when she knew she'd hurt me. The unsaid apology stings nearly as much as the accidental dig. I clear my throat, determined to play it lightly.

"It's just good manners when you run into a former acquaintance, in a foreign country where you speak the language, to make sure they're all right."

The cold, casual words don't make me feel good, but they appear to set her back on her heels a bit and help me feel a little more in control.

She bites her lip and looks around, as though really seeing the unfamiliar surroundings. "Right."

"Right," I repeat.

"I can't believe I did it," she whispers to herself.

"I got on a plane and flew for hours." Her eyes catch mine and she goes back into business mode.

"So, I'm guessing you know where Lifting Hope will pick us up?

" she asks, and I nod, not giving her any more of my words to use as ammo.

"I'd appreciate the guidance," she manages.

I smile – taking on a tour-guide persona – big and fake. "Of course, miss, please follow me."

I turn, and move quickly, tossing the strap of my duffel bag over my shoulder and holding the top handles in a tight fist because it's killing me not to take her hand and have her walk by my side as I tell her about all the things we're passing.

I'd always hoped to share this with her, but not like this. Never like this.

The silence is stifling, and so is that same citrus scent I can smell from just over my shoulder, where she follows closely but at a safe distance.

I'm grateful that the groups of people are moving steadily and we can make our way relatively easily through the doors that lead out to the waiting area where I'm expecting to find a driver holding a sign.

I politely hold the door for Chloe, doing my best to step sideways and avoid brushing up against her – something neither of us needs right now.

"The driver should be over in that group of people holding signs. Look for Lifting Hope, or our last names," I say when I'm by her side again.

She bites her lip and nods, wrapping her slim hands around the straps of her backpack.

Her nails are clean and perfectly filed, and my eyes dip to where her three gold chains, in different lengths and designs, sit against her throat and the exposed skin under her collar bones.

Without even realizing I'm doing it, I search for the narrow chain I gave her, the one that spells out her name, but it's missing from the collection.

I hate that she took it off, even though I have no reason to think she'd still wear it.

"I think I see the driver," Chloe says, startling me out of my thoughts, and I hurry to look up, knowing I have no business scouring her chest for a necklace.

Thankfully she turns to meet my eyes after I look away, and my gaze shifts quickly to where she's pointing. Sure enough, a small square sign is being waved in the air with the familiar logo and Lifting Hope Worldwide handwritten underneath.

"Yep. Let's go," I state.

I step in front of her and blaze a trail through the dozens of drivers who are waiting.

Chloe follows behind. I wonder what she's thinking and how she feels about the rapid fire Spanish swirling all around her.

Family members are greeting one another, strangers are being introduced.

Does she follow that? Or is she unable to understand any of it ?

"Carlos said that there would be a few of us meeting up with the shuttle tonight," Chloe says, referring to the man who runs Lifting Hope.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Do you see them?" she asks.

My view is slightly better than hers, as Chloe is a petite woman and I'm blocking her ability to see much, but with as crowded as this space is, I can only see the sign. I grunt in response, and trust that she can figure out my non-answer.

"Did you just grunt?" she asks, annoyed.

I laugh. "I did." I resist turning around to see if she's flashing daggers at my back.

She grunts in response to this, and I chuckle under my breath, loving it.

The crowd clears enough that I can see an older Peruvian man holding our sign.

Two other young adults are standing there too – an American woman and a South American man.

I step to the side to allow Chloe to join our group, and greet the sign-holding man in Spanish, telling him who we are.

Chloe stays silent, her round eyes taking it all in.

"I am Cesar," the young South American man says in rough English. "From South Peru."

It's only natural that all eyes then move to the blonde American woman, who offers up a small smile. "Rachelle," she says in a Southern accent that has become familiar over the past months that I've been living in North Carolina. "I'm from Georgia."

Rachelle makes eye contact with Chloe and lifts her brows. Chloe blinks before standing up straighter and smiling the genuinely warm smile I haven't been offered yet.

"I'm Chloe. I'm from Utah," she says. "So nice to mee you. "

Even though I'd already introduced us to the driver, I realize that Rachelle probably hadn't understood that, so I reintroduce myself to her. "Holt. Also from Utah, but currently living in North Carolina."

Rachelle glances between Chloe and me. "So, you two know each other?"

Chloe doesn't bother to look at me. "Utah is a pretty large state," she teases lightly.

Rachelle pulls a silly me face and opens her mouth to respond, but I'm not going to spend the next month pretending I don't know Chloe, so I jump in.

"Chloe's giving you a hard time. We do know each other. We went to school together at the University of Utah before I moved east."

Rachelle nods. "Oh, so did you plan this trip together then? Sort of a reunion?"

Chloe scoffs and opens her mouth, but I beat her to it. I'm not looking for negativity either. There's no reason for drama here.

"Total coincidence," I force a laugh. "You should have seen this one's face when I showed up at the gate in Atlanta." I point my elbow toward Chloe and make an exaggerated shocked face.

Rachelle laughs, Chloe glares, and Cesar frowns a bit in confusion, so I hurry and give him an abbreviated Spanish translation. The driver is also listening and he smiles when he hears the story, and then launches into telling us to follow him. It's time to go.

Ready or not, the adventure has officially begun.