Gambling On Maybe by Fae Sutherland (romantic love story reading txt) 📕

adorably amused. "I think I love you. Nope, I know I do!" He laughed again and propped one foot on the dashboard.

Stephen's mouth went a little dry as Zach slowly unzipped his knee-high boot. He was about to ask what Zach thought he was doing, when the other man produced a driver's license from inside the boot—good thinking considering his outfit consisted of approximately half a yard of shredded fishnet and less than that of shiny, skin-tight pleather—and held it out.

Stephen took it, gaze flicking to watch as Zach re-zipped his boot, before glancing at the card. "Twenty-six?" He gave his passenger an incredulous look. "Is this real?"

Zach lifted one perfectly plucked brow. "Can't you tell?"

Of course he could. He handed the license back, but not before he'd scanned the rest of the information. Zachary, middle initial L, West. Age twenty-six, birthday June 4, 1984.

Five-feet four-inches tall, weight one-fifty-five. Organ donor.

"What's the L stand for?"

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Gambling On Maybe

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"Lucas." Zach flashed him another of those impish grins.

"Now you know all my details, what about you? Lemme see your license."

Stephen laughed. "Are you serious? No."

"Why not?" He turned in his seat and held out one slim-fingered hand. "Lemme see."

"Um, no." Stephen gave him a sideways are-you-kidding-me? look.

"Got something to hide, officer? Not an organ donor?" He waggled his fingers impatiently, looking expectant.

For reasons beyond him, Stephen sighed and reached into his back pocket for his wallet, dropping it into Zach's hand. "I know exactly how much cash is in there, just so you know."

Zach laughed softly, tsking under his breath as he settled back in his seat and flipped open the wallet. "So distrustful, OfficerEMiranda." Zach's smile was infectious. "As in Miranda rights?"

Stephen cut him a quelling glance at the stifled giggle.

"Yeah, because you're the first to make that joke."

Zach ignored his testy tone, propping both feet up on the dash—which led to his already short shorts riding up to reveal even more of his slender legs—not that Stephen noticed—as he settled in to examine Stephen's wallet. "Thirty-eight years old, born November 28, 1972. Hey, this says you legally need glasses!"

Stephen tapped just beside his eye. "Lasik. I need to get that changed, but just haven't had time." Why was he allowing a complete stranger to sit there peering at his private information, not to mention offering him more 11

Gambling On Maybe

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unprompted? He had no idea. But he didn't snatch the wallet back.

Zach hmm-ed under his breath, brushing one fingertip across the license before abandoning it in favor of the series of plastic sleeves for pictures. Only Stephen didn't have any pictures in them.

Receipts, scraps of notes scribbled, a doctor's appointment card, but no photos. Zach turned curious brown eyes on him.

"No kids? Wife? Nieces and nephews?"

Stephen shook his head. "No. I'm an only child. Single. My parents are both dead." He had friends, fellow cops mostly, but no one who deserved a picture in his wallet.

"Mmm. That's kind of sad, Stevie."

Stephen's brows shot up. "Do not call me Stevie. My name is Stephen, but you can call me Officer Miranda."

Zach just smiled and handed him back his wallet. "Stevie suits you better." Before Stephen could protest, Zach gestured toward the road. "Next exit. My apartment's two blocks down on the left. Palm Village." He snorted and turned laughing eyes on Stephen. "Why they call it that, I dunno.

This is the desert; palm trees don't belong here."

And yet they were everywhere. It was one of the things Stephen had found strange about Phoenix when he'd first relocated five years earlier. Why the hell were there so many palm trees in the middle of the desert?

He tucked his wallet back into his pocket as he exited the freeway and followed Zach's directions into one of the many huge, fairly impersonal apartment mega-complexes that flourished in the Phoenix metro area. For reasons he didn't 12

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care to examine, instead of pulling in and just letting Zach out and being done with this strange morning, he parked and shut off the car.

"I'll walk you up. It's really late."

Zach smiled, again a little knowingly, as he climbed out and peered at Stephen across the roof of the patrol car. "And this is a safe neighborhood."

Stephen shrugged. "Still."

"Mm-hmm. Okay. C'mon, Officer Gallant."

Stephen glanced around as he followed Zach past the outer edge buildings and along the sidewalk paths to one of the interior sections of the complex. Zach slowed and gestured.

"That's meEthird floor. You can just leave me here," he said, turning to glance up at Stephen.

He nodded, fiddling with his keys. What was he doing?

"Alright then. Well, have a good night, and next time save aside some of your Schnapps money to pay for a cab home, okay?"

Zach nodded, then, unexpectedly, reached up and fisted his small hands in Stephen's shirt, tugging him down to plant a kiss right on his mouth. Short, firm, brief, still it burned an impression into him and before he could figure out what had just happened or how to respond, Zach was flashing him a sparkling smile and waving before darting up the stairs.

It wasn't until Stephen was merging back onto the freeway that he realized Zach had said, "See you later!" and not

"Goodbye."

Oh, boy.

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Gambling On Maybe

by Fae Sutherland

Zach didn't pay much attention to the double takes and outright stares shot his way as he strode confidently up the steps to the 12th Precinct police station and through the doors. In one hand was a bright pink plastic container and in the other was his very favorite Balenciaga satchel in signature sea foam green. Okay, so not only was it his favorite, it was also his only. It'd cost him nearly two months rent, but oh so worth it.

Now, where to find his knight in not-so-shiny armor? He paused in front of the first desk he saw and gave the woman behind it a beaming smile. "I'm looking for Stephen Miranda?"

The only change in her