Free Gambling On Maybe by Fae Sutherland Page B

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
    Gambling On Maybe
    by Fae Sutherland
    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.
    13
    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 expression was the subtle lift of one brow.
    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