Page 112 of Banter & Blushes #1

REID

T he morning of the dolphin swim feels like heaven.

Briella bounces beside me as we wait for the shuttle to the marine center, her beach bag slung over one shoulder, her hair pulled into a high ponytail that sways every time she moves. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. Swimming with dolphins. Like, in real life.”

“You’ve said that about every activity we’ve done this week,” I tease, nudging her playfully.

“That’s because this week has been unreal,” she says, grinning. “But this—this is peak vacation magic.”

She flashes me a look that could light up the whole resort, and I try to act normal even as my heart thumps way too fast in my chest.

The shuttle pulls up, and we climb in. The ride to the marine center is short, the breeze warm through the open windows. Briella’s already got her wristband on, flipping through the resort’s animal encounter guide like it’s the most important document she’s ever held.

“You think they’ll let us feed them?”

“I think they’ll let us do whatever we want as long as we smile for the camera,” I say.

She laughs. “Don’t ruin it with logic.”

I shrug. “Sorry. Just managing expectations.”

“Expectations are high,” she says, eyes twinkling. “Don’t disappoint me, Bennett.”

As if I could.

I told myself I could handle five days with Briella. That I could keep it casual, keep it friendly, keep my feelings locked down like I always have.

I’m a liar.

Because the second the dolphin trainer says, “Make sure you stick close to your wife during the interaction,” and Briella doesn’t correct him?—

I unravel.

Not on the outside, of course. Outwardly, I just smile, reach for her hand, and say, “You heard the man.”

But inside? My chest becomes a battlefield. Hope and fear and every emotion I’ve tried to bury for the past eight years suddenly roar to life.

We step into the waist-deep lagoon together, and Briella’s hand slips into mine without hesitation. She smiles nervously at the dolphins darting through the water like they’re showing off just for us.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice light.

She nods. “As long as they don’t try to drag me under, I think I’ll survive.”

I grin. “They only do that to people who fake being married.”

She laughs, but there’s a tightness in her voice. Like she’s nervous about more than dolphins.

Me too, sunshine.

The experience is amazing. We get to pet them, feed them, even do that cheesy little dolphin kiss thing. Briella’s dolphin nudges her right in the side at one point, making her squeal and cling to me.

Best moment of my life.

Hands down.

When the trainer takes our picture, I know I’ll spend the exorbitant amount it costs to have the photograph of one of the best moments of my life.

That night, I book us a reservation at the romantic Italian restaurant attached to the resort.

I’ve gotten us a seaside table. The ambiance is perfect, string lights overhead cast a soft glow over the table, soft music drifts on the breeze.

A trio plays acoustic love songs near the back patio, their voices blending into the hush of ocean waves against the shore.

Briella meets me at the entrance of the restaurant in a soft blue sundress that catches the wind just enough to make me forget how to breathe. Her hair is still a little curled from the saltwater, and she smells like jasmine and sunshine and everything good in the world.

“This is beautiful,” she says as we reach the table.

She slips into the seat across from me, moonlight catching the curve of her smile. Candles flicker between us .

“I wanted to do something special,” I say, trying not to fidget as I reach for the menu—then set it right back down. My fingers tap against my knee beneath the table. “You deserve that.”

“Mission accomplished,” she says with a soft smile. “This whole trip has been?—”

“I’m in love with you.”

The words are out before I can stop them.

Briella blinks, her lips parting in surprise. “Reid . . .”

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” I say, voice steady even though my pulse is anything but. “I’ve tried not to be. I didn’t want to risk our friendship. But this week? Pretending you’re not something more to me? It’s driving me crazy.”

She stares at me, eyes wide. The music behind us fades into a dull murmur.

“You . . . you really mean that?” she whispers.

I lean forward. “Every second of this trip, I’ve wished it was real. The mix-ups, the ‘Mr. and Mrs. Bennett’ comments, sharing a room, the—everything. I didn’t want to correct anyone because my heart wanted it to be true.”

The waves whisper behind us. The candles flicker between us.

Then she lets out a soft breath. “I didn’t want to correct them either.”

Hope flares so fast it makes me dizzy. “You didn’t?”

She shakes her head, her eyes glistening. “Because I want it to be real too.”

I reach across the table, and this time I don’t hesitate. My fingers find hers, and she laces them with mine like she’s been waiting her whole life to do it.

“So, let’s make it real,” I say, holding my breath.

She looks at our entwined hands and nods. “We’re really doing this,” she whispers, wonder in her voice.

I smile. “We’re really doing this.”

And somewhere behind us, the ocean crashes gently against the shore while string lights glow like stars above our heads. People laugh softly at nearby tables. Glasses clink. Someone starts a quiet rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.

And I can’t help thinking, I already have .