Cuffed for Love

  Contents

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Also by Ella Goode

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  Dane’s a bounty hunter; Joy’s a social media influencer. Dane hates crowds; Joy loves people. Dane’s job is to bring people to justice; Joy loves a good prank. These two neighbors have nothing in common but a shared street. Yet, Dane can’t keep knocking on Joy’s door and Joy can’t stop taking photos of her hot neighbor. It shouldn’t work, but it does.

  Their happy story is interrupted when an angry biker wants to take revenge on Dane by targeting Joy. Dane refuses to allow anyone write an ending for them that isn’t happy.

  One

  Dane

  “What are you paying me for helping you move?” my brother, Mick, asks as we lug my weight machine into the spare bedroom.

  “The brother tax.” I motion for him to drop his end. After he does, I lower my side to the ground and step back to look at the setup.

  “And what’s that again in terms of real dollars?”

  “I think it’s enough for a beer.”

  “One? As in singular?” he squawks in protest.

  I give the metal support a pat and jerk my head to the door. “I guess I can spring for two. Let’s go and get some.”

  Mick shuffles his six-foot frame out the door, muttering under his breath about how ungrateful I was and how he should have drowned me in the toilet when we were toddlers.

  “You mean the last time you were taller than me?” I clap a hand on his shoulder and give it a tight, painful, brotherly squeeze.

  He shrugs me off. Mick might be four inches shorter, but he’s solid. “What are you talking about with this revisionist shit? You were a shrimp until the eighth grade. I have the pictures to prove it.”

  “I have no memory of that. Pretty sure I didn’t even exist until the eighth grade. I launched, fully grown, into the world at the age of twelve,” I declare.

  “You were launched full up on bullshit,” Mick agrees. When we arrive in the kitchen, he heads straight to the fridge and pulls out the last two beers. “I can’t believe all you bought was a six-pack.”

  “Bells said not to get you drunk.”

  He grumbles about his balls and a vise, but I know he’s not serious. The man is head over heels in love with his wife. He’s just venting because she’s been having a tough pregnancy and is spending most of her days lying down with her feet up. It’s driving both of them nuts. She called me earlier and begged me to keep Mick occupied. If I have to listen to him ask me one more time if I need anything, I’m going to poison his coffee.

  For the sake of marital peace, I went and bought a six-pack of his favorite microbrew and some brats to cook on the grill. We already ate the brats for lunch, and there’s only two beers left, but it’s nearing five so I feel like I kept my end of the bargain up. Bells just needs to deliver her baby safely and we’ll be square.

  Mick uncaps his beer and leans a hip against the counter, staring out the window glumly. I shouldn’t have brought up Bells. I give myself an internal knock on the head.

  “Looks like your neighbor came home. You should deliver the cookies Bells ordered for you.”

  “Right now?” I ask as I’m in the middle of trying to drink my very last beer. I should have bought more, but Bells told me no more than six, and I can’t really disobey her since she’s pregnant and all. Pregnant women are scary as shit.

  “Yeah.” He squints. “Your neighbor looks hot.”

  I push away from the fridge and join Mick at the counter where I, too, can stare out the window over my sink. I hadn’t realized it before, but the house next door has a window that is about the same position as mine, and given that there’s a faucet peeking above the sill, I’m guessing that I’m looking at her kitchen. My neighbor drops her purse on a counter and then lifts her arms above her head to unclip her hair. It falls like a waterfall around her shoulders and down her back.

  Mick pounds me on the back and I realize I’ve started choking on my beer. “I mean, she’s nice looking and all but you need to learn to breathe, little brother,” he jokes.

  I clear my throat but “uh huh” is all I can muster since my neighbor has turned to the window. She’s fucking gorgeous—mouth-watering, knee-weakening—gorgeous with honey gold skin, dark hair, a rack that would fit perfectly in my palms, and a nipped-in waist. I can’t see the rest, but I don’t need to. What is on display is enough for any mortal.

  “Cookies,” I mutter. “I need to find the cookies.”

  I look around frantically, my eyes landing on boxes and bowls and pots and pans but no cookies. A muffled laugh comes from behind me. Mick spins me around and shoves the cookie container into my gut. “Go and don’t embarrass the family name.”

  “How can I when you’ve already rubbed it into the ground by merely existing?” I call over my shoulder, determined to get one more dig in. I mean, we’re brothers, after all.

  “I can tell Bells not to order you any more cookies,” he yells.

  Halfway across the lawn, I stop and give my brother a small bow in apology. I can’t have Bells on my bad side. “I’m sorry I ever said one bad word about you. Bells is the greatest, even if she has questionable taste in men!”

  Before my brother can respond, I sprint the rest of the way to my neighbor’s front porch. I shove open the screen door and knock before noting the doorbell. Shit. I should’ve used that. Did she hear me knock? If I ring the doorbell will I seem overeager? Dammit. I hate this shit. I’m not good with people and never have been. Bells and Mick don’t understand it, saying with my looks and body, I don’t have anything to be worried about, but I really don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m an ordinary man who works out and is a little taller than most people. Sometimes that gets the attention of others, but it’s not good attention. Ah, fuck it, I should’ve never come over here. I bend down to leave the cookies in the doorframe when it opens. I close my eyes in frustration as the first glimpse my hot neighbor gets is of my ass. I wipe away all the emotion from my face and straighten up.

  “Here.” I shove the cookies toward her. “I’m your neighbor, Dane. Nice to meet you. Don’t be noisy. I like peace and quiet,” I say and then walk away.

  Two

  Joy

  “What the hell was that?” I give my best friend an evil smirk. “A new project?” She snatches the cookies out of my hand.

  “Let me test those cookies out. In case they’re poisoned or something.” I snort a laugh as she shoves one in her mouth and then another. I’m guessing they aren't poisoned.

  “Why are all the hot ones jerks?” I shut my door, flipping the lock. “Did you see how tall he was?” My roommate Cece does not answer me; she just shoves another cookie into her mouth.

  “He was hot,” she adds in. A weird jealousy swirls in my stomach that I don’t like. It takes me by surprise because I’ve never felt that way before about anyone and especially not when it comes to Cece.

  “He doesn't even know us, and he’s trying to boss us around. Who the heck does he think he is? It should be us going over to his place telling him he better keep it down and taking a pie over or something.”

  “You do have a pie.” She nods over toward the kitchen. I do. It just so
happens that last night I did a live stream of me making little pies. I was teaching everyone all the ways you could make cute crust toppers.

  “He shouldn't be getting any of my pie. Did you not hear how he talked to me? I wasn't even being loud!”

  “That was kind of loud.”

  I put my hands on my hips and glare at Cece. “You are supposed to be on my side.” I remind her.

  “Oh maybe we should slip some ex-lax in the pies?” I fall back onto the sofa. I was so happy when I found out that the old neighbor had moved out. He was creepy. Sexy jerks are way better than creepy ones. I bet this could even be fun.

  “I think we should declare a war.”

  “We should! I’ve been saying that Wendy’s needs to have spicy nuggets year-round. I’m glad you’re finally on the same page. So what do we do first? We should start by writing an email.”

  “I meant a war with hotness next door.”

  “So you agree he is hot? Does this mean you’re calling dibs?”

  “You don’t even like men. Why would I have to call dibs?” I sit up, and Cece drops down in front of me on the floor, giving me a hair tie and silently asking me to style her hair in one of those cute messy buns. “Besides, I don’t date jerks anymore.”

  If she watched some of my videos she would know how to do it herself. She always says that she doesn’t watch because she has the real thing so there’s no need. I do her hair in less than twenty seconds.

  “We can have a little fun. I’m sick of men being assholes and thinking they can get away with it. I want him to get a taste of his own medicine.” I’m usually a nice person and pretty easy to get along with, but he rubbed me the wrong way and for some reason I’m not willing to let it go.

  “Can you even be mean?” Cece asks.

  “I’m not going to burn down his house or anything. I was thinking more along the lines of a few small pranks. Welcome to the neighborhood pranks.”

  “Pranks?” She lifts her eyebrows. I grab my laptop, going to my Facebook page. I tell all of my followers about the new hottie next door and how he was rude. After much debate, they make me promise to upload a picture of him at some point and that we should wrap his vehicle in Saran Wrap.

  I rub my hands together thinking about how much fun this is going to be. Cece and I head to Costco to buy a ton of Saran Wrap. We agree that we should leave it in my car until we’re ready to go on our mission. We have to change because we obviously need to be wearing all black in order to go undetected.

  “Is this really going to work?” Cece whispers.

  “Why are you whispering? We're not even outside yet.”

  “I’m getting into character.”

  I burst into laughter. We wait a little longer before sneaking out. Of course he has to have a ginormous truck. By the looks of it, this might take us a while. We begin wrapping his truck. We definitely underestimated how much Saran Wrap we would need for this.

  “What the fuck?” a deep voice barks. Oh crap. I slowly turn around to stare at a giant male chest.

  “Why are you up so late? You should be sleeping.” I fold my arms over my chest trying to give him the same scolding look my mom gives me. I have no idea who this man is or what he does for a living. For all I know he could be a drug dealer or maybe he does those illegal underground fights. He could be dangerous, but I still stand my ground.

  “It was like this.” Cece comes from around the other side of the truck. She tosses the box of Saran Wrap she’s holding behind her. “There were a bunch of kids.”

  “Yeah.” I nod in agreement. “It’s a new thing the kids are doing. You likely haven't heard about it because you’re new here. I came out here and scared them away for you.” I give him a bright smile, dropping my folded arms. “You are very welcome.”

  He drops his head back to look up at the sky. It’s as if he’s searching for something. Maybe it’s his patience. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I’m not sure if that was a question or a comment, so neither Cece or I say anything. Then he starts pulling at the Saran Wrap, getting it off within seconds.

  “That took us an hour.”

  Cece puts her hand over my mouth. I’d make a terrible criminal. I’d fold like a chair and rat myself out at the first sign of getting caught. “She means she’s guessing that took someone an hour.”

  I nod in agreement.

  “Go home,” he orders. We have a stare-off that I’m totally winning. Then he takes a step closer to me. “Go home or I’ll pick you up and take you there myself.”

  That’s all it takes, and Cece and I are running back to our place, locking the door behind us. I bite my lip, wondering why his rough rude tone keeps doing funny things to my insides. Not wanting to think about that, I decide to go live on my social media and tell all my followers about my failed Saran Wrap prank. More ideas start to roll in.

  “I like this one.” Cece points to the screen.

  “Make him want me?” How am I going to do that?

  “Yep, then as soon as he does, you don’t give him the time of day.” The comments are still pouring in. Most in Cece’s favor. I tell my followers goodnight and shut down my computer.

  “Give them what they want.” Cece is really pushing this.

  “I've already agreed to go on a date tomorrow night with Steve.” They’ve been begging me to try a dating app, so I did it. I haven’t dated since my high school boyfriend.

  He’d cheated. I caught him in the act too. He cheated on me with my uncle. I’d found them making out in the bathroom when my parents were having a barbeque.

  “His name is Peter.”

  “Right.”

  “Don’t sound so down. I’m not even into men and know Peter is hot.”

  That’s the thing. He’s pretty boy handsome. I bet he takes longer to get ready than I do. It also creeped me out that he mentioned that he follows me on all my platforms. I know that’s the goal of being a social media influencer, but my target is women. It always has been.

  “I’m going on the date. I already told everyone I would. That doesn't mean that operation take down the neighbor is over. He’s going down.”

  Cece smirks. “I think he’ll go down quickly if you ask him.”

  My whole body lights up the same way it did when I opened the door and looked up. “I’m going to take the pie over to him tomorrow.”

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” I nod in agreement, still wondering where he was going so late at night.

  Booty call? Typical. Usually what other people do doesn’t bother me, but for some reason the thought of him going to meet someone only makes me more upset.

  This is war.

  Three

  Dane

  “Your neighbor is one of those instafluencers,” Mick informs me. I pick up the phone and check the time. It’s ten in the morning. I groan and cover my eyes to shut out the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains.

  “Call me back at a reasonable hour.” I turn the phone over, but Mick’s voice still trickles out.

  “Did I wake you up? The day’s half gone.”

  “It’s not even lunchtime. How can the day be half gone?” I mutter into my pillow.

  “What’s that? I can’t hear you. Bells, babe, can you turn down the music? I can’t hear Dane.”

  Realizing the futility of fighting my brother, I roll over and drag the phone to my ear. “Last night after you left, I got a call about a skip over in Urban Center. He was drunk as hell and it took some time to wrestle him into my truck and take him to the station. I got home late and was getting ready for bed when I heard some noises outside. Thought a raccoon had gotten into the trash, but it was just my neighbor and some other girl decorating my truck with plastic wrap. Took that off, went inside and got another skip call—”

  “Hold on. I gotta tell this to Bells.”

  “Of course you do.” I rub the heel of my hand against one of my eyes. It feels like I have gravel there. My body’s tired, but my mind’s
awake so I heave myself out of bed as Mick relays my story to his wife. I know precisely when he gets to the Saran Wrap bit because I can hear Bells bust out laughing in the background.

  Mick returns. “Bells wants to know what you’re going to do.”

  I peek out my bedroom window. From this view I can see most of her backyard, but it’s empty. She’s either gone to work or inside the house.

  “What do you mean, what am I going to do?”

  “To get back at Joy.”

  “Who’s Joy?”

  Am I dreaming and that’s why this conversation doesn’t make any sense? I give myself a slap on the face. Nah, that felt pretty real.

  “I already told you. Joy’s your neighbor.”

  I jerk upright, strike the side of my face against the window blind, and squawk, “You did not. How do you even know her name?”

  “Keep up, turtle. I told you she was an instafluencer. Now tell me what you’re going to do to get back at her? You have to act, you know. You can’t allow the Saran Wrap to go unanswered. Maybe egg her car? Shit in a bag at the front door? Ouch, Bells, why are you hitting me? Okay. Okay. I’ll tell him. Bells said nothing destructive.”

  “Can we rewind here? I didn’t get home until about four hours ago.” Between the time I spied my neighbor, Joy, through my kitchen window and the time I lost consciousness sometime near dawn, I’d had a lot of ideas about what I wanted to do with Joy, and none of them involved eggs, shit in a bag, or Saran Wrap...although...if I was wrapping my neighbor in plastic wrap she’d be naked, and that’s not a bad thing at all, except plastic wrap would inhibit access to all the good parts so no, not going to do that. I rub my jaw. How’d my thought process end up here?