Page 201 of Banter & Blushes

“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 toldmyself 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.

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