Page 35 of Cuffed By Your Love

Deputy Gorgeous:

I hate how you type in metaphors. Say what you mean.

Me:

I wanna see you.

There it was: the truth, raw and reckless, like me in my youth.

Three dots blinked on the screen, then vanished, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. My heart pounded in my chest, racing as if I was in a foot pursuit of a suspect. After what felt like an eternity, her reply finally came in.

My thumb hovered over the screen as I eagerly awaited her response.

Deputy Gorgeous:

I was just pouring a drink. Let’s grab one together in a public space, neutral territory. Keep your badge holstered and your charm to a minimum, Detective.

Me:

No promises, Deputy Gorgeous.

I set my phone down and let out a deep breath. The tequila warmed my chest, but her words had my whole body buzzing. I could feel it, something soft starting to stir beneath all the hard edges. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like running from it.

The spot was tucked behind a candle shop and a cigar lounge off Westview. It was quiet, low-key, and smooth enough to allow you to eavesdrop on your own thoughts without the music interrupting. It was called Brick & Ember, a dimly lit lounge nestled on the edge of Self Ridge. With brick walls, black leather booths, and jazz covers of ’90s R&B setting the mood, it wasn’t the kind of place you went to party; it was the kind of place you visited to sip slowly and nurse your wounds. It was filled with soft conversations, jazz remixes, and the soothing ambiance of brown liquor. The moment I walked in, I noticed her beautiful ass instantly. She was dressed in a yellow bodycon dress with a thigh-high split that made my heart race, wearing gold hoops that conveyed an air of confidence with every turn of her head.

Jonaylookedlike the reason someone’s ex would spiral. For some reason, she was sitting there all calm, scrolling through her phone like she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me.

I didn’t mean to stare, but I wanted to remember every detail for later. She was so fucking gorgeous. When she saw me, she didn’t smile right away. She just tilted her head as if to say, “You really came, huh?”

“I appreciate punctuality,” she remarked as I settled into the booth.

“I like how you haven’t blocked me yet… ’Preciate it,” I replied, settling in across from her.

She smirked. “That’s because I’m considering the possibility that you have depth.”

“Oh, I have depth, Deputy Gorgeous. I’m like a lasagna with layers of trauma.”

Jonay laughed with her head thrown back and her eyes sparkling. That laugh reached a place in me that I had forgotten existed.

I leaned back, arm stretched across the seat, my hand flat on the table like I’d been holding it for her. My pulse kicked, but my face stayed calm. I wasn’t here to rush. I was here to claim.

The waitress showed up, pen poised, eyes flicking between us. I didn’t let Jonay answer first. I tilted my chin toward her, voice low and steady.

“Ladies first, Deputy Gorgeous.”

She blinked at me, just quick enough for me to catch it before she smirked like she’d been expecting me to play.

“I’ll have a jalapeño margarita. Extra lime,” she said, smooth, like her tongue was already on fire and daring the drink to keep up.

I watched her lips form every word. My chest got tight.

The waitress turned to me. I didn’t even look at her. I kept my eyes locked on Jonay. “Double shot of your best tequila. Neat. And start us a tab.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she wrote it down and disappeared.

We drank and talked, sliding between humor and heaviness like old friends relearning how to flirt.

She shared stories about her mama, talking about how she held onto her grief tightly while pretending like it wasn’t suffocating her. I opened up about my wife dying and me raising EJ on my own, but I didn’t go into any details.