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

Undeterred, Zach shrugged, still smiling brightly. "That's okay. I'll find him myself!" He turned to traipse off.

The desk officer must have had visions of him twirling through the station leaving glitter in his wake and who would clean that up? Because she huffed a sigh and held up a hand.

"Hold on there, twinkledee. Second floor, ask for Sergeant Miranda at the desk."

Zach's eyes widened. "Oooh, sergeant is it? Thank you!"

He saw her roll her eyes as he hurried off, but he didn't see any point in letting other peoples' negative attitudes affect his own. So he waved cheerfully over his shoulder as he stepped onto the elevator.

It wasn't that Zach didn't know what people thought of him. It was that he didn't care. He didn't imagine they lost any sleep at night worrying what the silly little fag in the 14

Gambling On Maybe

by Fae Sutherland

fabulous Dolce scarf thought of them. Why be something he didn't like just to make people he didn't know comfortable?

Besides, who couldn't use more glittery goodness in their lives?

Speaking of someone in desperate need of some sparkleE

Zach spotted his Officer Hotness standing by a desk with his back to Zach and, ugh, his aura just spoke of not nearly enough shiny people sharing their happy with him. Well, that was about to change!

Zach had been thinking about Stevie, aka Officer Hotness, ever since he'd dropped him off and the poor guy had all but begged to be brought upstairs and let out of his sad little box.

Zach had almost done just that, but something had stopped him. If he knew anything, it was when to listen to his instinct, or the Universe, or whatever you wanted to call it. And last night his Universe had told him to wait.

Not a word he was good with.

But, nonetheless, he'd let Officer Hotness leave, looking for all the world like a stunned, disappointed, yet sort of ridiculously sexy puppy who'd just had a bone taken away from him. Zach stifled a giggle. Bone.

He reached the desk, hopping up onto it and reaching out to tap him on the shoulder with one finger. "Officer, I'd like to report a crime."

Stevie turned, his green eyes widening in surprise. Zach beamed, tossing little waves of greeting to the other officers, who were all looking at him sort of like he might be a bomb that needed a squad or something.

"What are youE?"

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Zach set his Balenciaga on the desk beside him and held up the pink container. "This is evidence." He urged Stevie to take it, nodding. "Be careful; it's delicious."

Heavy, black brows knit. The man had some serious frown wrinkles forming. "It'sEwhat?"

"Delicious!" Zach grinned and peeled off the cover, gesturing. "I hope I made enough for everyone."

Stevie glanced into the container, where two dozen gorgeous, perfectly made, obscenely fattening doughnuts sat in neat rows.

"You made these? You did?"

Zach laughed and shrugged one shoulder. "Okay, so maybe that was a little fib. I bought them, though. And the container's mine! Plus I made it all the way over here still in time for breakfast!"

"It's almost noon."

Zach took the container and set it on the desk. "Exactly!

Here, guys, help yourselves." He gave the box a little push in the direction of the other officers, who were eyeing it like it was a wee baby lamb in the midst of a ravenous wolf pack.

He turned back to Stevie and smiled. "Hi."

Instead of a smile and a "hi" in return, Stevie caught his wrist, tugged him down off the desk and began pulling him toward an office a few yards away. He frowned, glancing back over his shoulder. "ButEmy bagE" Stevie gave him an arch look, and Zach sent a sheepish one back. "Well, it is a room full of policemen, so I suppose it'll be fine."

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The office door shut behind them, a little harder than necessary. Zach smiled and looked around. "Is this your office?"

"Yes. What are you doing here?"

Zach wandered over to the bookshelf, hoping to find some pictures in frames, a few fiction novels, something to tell him what kind of life his officer led outside work, but there was nothing personal. He spotted police manuals, awards for service and bravery, but nothing to give any clue about who Stevie was.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "I brought you doughnuts. With a 'gh' because the Dunkin' way is just bad grammar."

Stevie shook his head, like he was dizzy. If this were a cartoon, he'd have stars around his head or something. "Well, I mean I see that, butEwhy?"

Zach turned to face him. "You don't know why?"

Stevie shrugged. "Not really."

"Aww, that's so sad, Stevie. I brought them to say thank you and because I wanted to see you again." He plopped down in the chair, crossing his legs. "I like you." His smile was a little bit sly. "And I know you like me."

Stevie didn't try to deny it, but the way his gaze flicked to the window and the other officers outside it, told Zach that he was most definitely not out of the proverbial closet. He hadn't expected him to be. He stifled a twinge of pity. Stevie didn't need his pity. The poor man needed his help.

Not to mention his kisses. Lots of kisses.

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"You can't be here. I'm sorry. It was very nice of you to think of me and all, butE"

Zach stood up, moving closer. He told himself not to be hurt by the way Stevie took a step back. Zach might never have been anywhere near the closet—he'd always been this gay, for reals—but he could sympathize with the fear that kept someone like Stevie there.

"It's okay, Stevie. Come over when you finish yourErounds? Beat? Well, whatever, when you get done. Mm-kay?"

Stevie frowned and shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Nonsense! It's one of my better ones.