Page 24 of Cuffed By Your Love

Moonlight. The name replayed in my head like a warning. Who the fuck was that? And why did it rattle her so badly that she couldn’t even sit still?

I glanced at EJ happily licking sprinkles from his fingers again, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. I smiled for him, but every bone in my body was coiled tight with suspicion and protective rage.

I knew one thing for sure. If her ex or anybody else was behind that text and putting fear in her eyes, they were gonna have to deal with me.

My phone buzzed around 9:47 p.m. as I was laying out EJ’s school clothes, trying not to fall asleep while standing. I glanced at the screen, already expecting Chambers to send another meme or my mom to check if I wanted gumbo on Sunday.

But it was her. Jonay. Well, technically, it saidDeputy Gorgeous.

I chose that name for her the moment she entered her number and gracefully walked away, seemingly unaware that I had just been captivated by a pure beauty in uniform. It wasn’t merely about her polished appearance; it was about the respect she commanded, infused with a subtle yet undeniable admiration that lingered in the air.

Deputy Gorgeous :

I’m working on it.

Short, real, and raw. No emojis and no fluff. Somehow, it still hit harder than most “good morning” texts I’d ever received. I stared at it for a solid minute, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to reply with something deep, something poetic, layered, and filled with warmth. But another part of me, the part that understood survival, knew she didn’t need all that right now. She just needed to feel like she wasn’t alone in her silence.

So I sent:

That’s enough for now. Just know I see you.

And I meant it.

The following day, I wasn’t on duty, but I went to the courthouse to drop off some evidence records for Chambers since he was home with a sick Amira. I wore regular jeans, a black hoodie, and had a fresh haircut with my beard edged up with care. Because, yeah, grief could be heavy, but presentation still mattered. Even off-duty, I carried myself like I had purpose stitched into my posture.

I wasn’t expecting to see her. But God had been playing with my timeline lately. There she was.

Jonay walked across the marble floor as if her trauma had no effect on her. Her uniform hugged her perfectly with a badge onher hip, edges neatly styled, and an unbothered energy. But her eyes, still heavy, still human, held onto an invisible weight as if it was paying rent.

She didn’t see me at first, so I just watched, not in a creepy way, but in that “damn, she’s still carrying strength like it’s designer” way. She was talking to another deputy, her voice low but calm. Then she turned, and our eyes locked. Time didn’t freeze, but it did slow down.

She blinked slowly, as if trying to decide whether to walk toward me or away. I gave her the same soft nod I always did. She smirked just enough to be noticed.

“Off duty, huh?” she asked as she approached me, getting close enough to speak clearly.

“I’m trying to be,” I replied. “But the badge doesn’t really come off; it just tucks in.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is, but so is avoiding your own healing.”

That one landed. She looked at me as if she wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t, not this time.

“You texted back,” I added, keeping it light.

She nodded. “I did.”

“Didn’t expect it, but I appreciated it.”

“I’m not one for small talk or emotional intimacy through text,” she said, glancing away.

“That’s fine,” I said, leaning slightly closer. “I’m not one for rushing people through their process.”

She looked up at me, her eyes weary and devoid of defensiveness, as if they had seen too much pain. There was a profound sadness in them, a deep exhaustion from enduring heartache after heartache.

“Are you always this patient with strangers?”

“You stopped being a stranger the minute I saw you hurt and didn’t look away, ma.”