Page 14 of Arrested By the Deputy

"You didn't have to do all that."

"I wanted to." She sets it down in front of me, then leans over the counter and presses a kiss to my temple before going back to work on the next order. "Now please, eat. You know this type of shit is my love language. You've got a long shift ahead of you."

I don't think much of it in the moment, just dig into the sandwich, which is somehow the best thing I've had all week, and talk with her in between customers until my radio crackles and I've got to get back out on patrol. I kiss her goodbye at the counter, same as I did coming in, and head back out into the afternoon heat without a second thought.

It isn't until later that night, scrolling through my phone before bed, that I see it.

Marjorie Teal: Stopped by Butter My Biscuit for lunch today and caught the sweetest thing. Deputy Sutton in there gettingspoiled by Hazel, she made him a sandwich and everything, and the way that man looked at her, y'all. My heart.

There's a photo attached, a little grainy, clearly taken from a phone held low near the register, but it's unmistakably us, me hunched over the counter with the sandwich in front of me, Hazel leaning across to kiss my temple. It's not a bad picture. If anything, it's sweet, the kind of thing you'd frame if it were anybody else's relationship.

The comments are already piling up by the time I finish reading the post.

Allison McGregor: OKAY this is adorable, I'm SO happy for them.

Karen Davidson: Look how happy she looks. This is the best thing to come out of that whole arrest mess.

Lucille Wagner: Deputy Doody's really turned things around, hasn't he? Good for him.

Even that old nickname doesn't sting quite the way it used to when I read it tonight. Lucille's not saying it mean, not really, just using the shorthand the whole group settled on a while back, and there's something almost fond in the way she writes it this time, like she's rooting for me instead of laughing at me.

I sit with my phone for a long minute, thumb hovering over the comment box, and for the first time since this whole group turned my life into their favorite topic of conversation, I don't feel that old flare of resentment climbing up my spine. I feel something else instead. Something closer to gratitude, which catches me off guard enough that I almost put the phone down without typing anything at all.

But then I think about Hazel, sound asleep back at her place after a long day on her feet, and how she never once made me feel small for the mistakes I've made, how she looked past the nickname and the reputation and saw somebody worth giving a second chance to. And I think maybe it's time I said somethinghonest to this town, instead of just letting them keep guessing at who I am from a handful of grainy videos and secondhand gossip.

So I start typing.

Cal Sutton:Figured it's about time I said something in here myself, instead of just being talked about.

Most of you know me as Deputy Doody, and for a long time, that nickname really got under my skin. I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in this town, dad was an alcoholic, mom never did much to stop it, and by the time I was old enough to understand what that meant, I'd already decided the only way to be somebody worth respecting was to never give anybody a reason to talk about me. So when this group started calling me soft, calling me a joke, saying I let people get away with things because I was too scared to do my job right, it hurt worse than I think any of you realized. I spent my whole life terrified of being seen as the kid nobody expected much from, and it felt like no matter what I did in this uniform, that's exactly what half this town still thought of me.

That's part of why I arrested Hazel that night. I'm not proud of it, and I think she knows that. I let what this group thought of me get in the way of good judgment, and that's on me, not on any of you. But I want to say thank you, genuinely, because if it hadn't been for all of you and my boss pushing me to make it right, I don't know that I would've found the courage to walk into that bakery and finally say something to a woman I've had feelings for since we were kids in the same school, too scared to ever sit down next to her at lunch.

Hazel Monroe has changed my life these past few weeks. Not because of anything to do with this group, or my job, or what anybody in Whispering Pines thinks about either one of us. Just because she's the kind of person who makes you want to be better, and she never once made me feel like I had to earnher patience the way I felt like I had to earn everybody else's around here.

So thank you, genuinely, for pushing me toward something I should've done a long time ago. And for what it's worth, I don't mind the nickname so much these days. Guess I've got a decent life to be Deputy Doody in, if this is where I ended up.

I read it over twice, my thumb hovering over the post button, feeling more exposed than I have in longer than I can remember. Then I hit post before I can talk myself out of it, set my phone face down on the nightstand, and try to sleep, though I know good and well I'll be checking the responses first thing in the morning.

I don't have to wait that long. Within twenty minutes, my phone's already buzzing against the nightstand, notification after notification stacking up.

Allison McGregor:Cal I'm actually crying, thank you for sharing that. We're all so happy for you and Hazel.

Karen Davidson:This just made my whole night. Proud of you, Deputy Sutton.

Lucille Wagner:Well now I feel bad about the nickname lol. Glad you found somebody who makes you happy, you deserve it.

Marjorie Teal:This whole thing started with an arrest and turned into the sweetest love story this town's seen in years. I'm here for it.

I scroll through them slower than I probably need to, something loosening in my chest with every single one, that old tightness I've carried around for years finally letting up its grip a little. My phone buzzes once more, a text this time, from Hazel.

Hazel: Just read your post. Come over when your shift's done, tomorrow. I want to hold you. By the way, I love you, too.

Me: I do. Love you. It’s hard for me to say it, but I’ll say it to you. Thank you for changing my life.

I smile at the screen, feeling something a whole lot lighter than I have in longer than I care to admit, before finally letting myself drift off, looking forward to morning for the first time in longer than I can remember.

CHAPTER 9