“Wasn’t it a beautiful day today?”

T.J. raised a brow at Shay’s uncharacteristic chipper voice. “Are you high?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “Just happy to be alive.”

Not high, but clearly up to no good. Nobody should be happy stuck at the Shot of Sin bar on a Thursday night when they’d usually be taking it easy, helping out at Taste of Sin. The two of them had been assigned to a private twenty-first birthday party for a spoiled brat with too much money. None of the kids had manners, and T.J. was certain none of them would be standing once the clock struck midnight. They would either be cut off because they couldn’t handle their alcohol consumption or booted from the club for a misdemeanor.

“You know,” she started, looking at him thoughtfully, “this place needs more of a woman’s touch. There’s only so much magic I can add to drown out all the uber-masculine feels.”

“The club is fine, Shay.” He handed over a raspberry and vodka to a woman who seemed far too young to be legal. “And so is downstairs, and the restaurant, too.”

She shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

If only she could keep her thoughts to herself, life would be sweet. Well, nowhere near saccharine, but a whole lot better than when she ran her mouth about his personal problems. “I’m going to check on the restaurant. I’ll be back later.”

He strode around the bar, moving into the small crowd and winced when her voice hit his ears.

“Aren’t you meant to be having a meeting with Leo and Brute right about now?”

He turned back to her in confusion. She was focused on her watch, her forehead set in a frown.

“Yep.” She met his gaze. “I’m sure Leo said nine pm.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

A firm slap landed on his shoulder before Brute strolled around him. “What’s with the meeting? I see your ass too much already.”

“Me?” T.J. frowned as Leo walked past on his other side. “I didn’t ask for a meeting.”

He glanced from Brute’s scowl to Leo, who shrugged before diverting his attention to Shay. The bartender was wiping down the counter, pretending to ignore their conversation. He had a sinking feeling she knew more about what was going on than he did. “Shay?”

She raised her gaze, the confidence in her stare wavering as she opened her mouth. “Yeah?”

His hearing honed, blocking out the music of the D.J. and chattering drinkers to the sexy clap of heels approaching from behind him. Leo and Brute glanced over his shoulder, their attention landing on the same spot, their expressions tightening almost imperceptibly.

“Good evening, gentleman.”

T.J closed his eyes at the sound of Cassie’s voice. He didn’t turn, didn’t even bother to meet her gaze as her footsteps came to a stop beside him.

“Thank you for meeting me.”

“You organized this?” Brute crossed his arms over his chest—his usual defensive stance.

“Oh.” Cassie released a gasp and raised her voice to compete with the people dancing around them. “Didn’t I write my name at the bottom of the email? Damn it, I could’ve sworn I did.”

Feigning ignorance didn’t suit her. She wasn’t stupid, and they all knew it. He wanted to call her on it, only he couldn’t open his mouth, not without spilling fractured words that would deny the adamant position he was trying to maintain with their divorce.

“I hope you didn’t mind me using your email, T.J., I don’t have a business account of my own and needed to get in contact with you all as soon as possible.”

“Of course not,” he ground out, still unable to look at her. He couldn’t. He’d begun to live with the pain of being away from her. If he met her sweet stare, he’d have to start all over again. Ripping open barely healed wounds.

“What can we do for you, Cassie?” Leo asked.

She sighed, the feminine sound sinking into his ears and sending an ache through his chest.

“I’ve lost my job.”

T.J.’s heart sank and he finally turned to her. She didn’t seem distraught, not when her position at the hotel had been a former source of pride. Instead, she was beautiful, her blonde hair hanging over her shoulders, her black skirt exposing legs he loved entwining with his own. She had the glow of determination in her eyes and confidence showed in her perfect posture.

“With the divorce moving forward and my own income now non-existent, I’ve had to rethink my position as silent partner.”

His heart was throbbing, pounding. His mind was a mass of thoughts, trying to figure out what was going to fall from her precious lips next.

“I’ve spent days thinking over my options, and every time I come to the same conclusion. I have no choice but to come work here. At least until I find another job.”

Nobody spoke. He wasn’t sure if his friends were stunned into silence or waiting for his restraint to crack so they could step in. Either way, he was in hot water, unable to let Cassie nudge her way back into his life, yet also incapable of turning away from her when she needed help.

“What a coincidence,” Shay chuckled. “I was telling T.J. a few minutes ago how badly we need more of a feminine touch around here.”

He glared at Shay, his blood pressure rising with the smug way she met his stare as she continued to serve people lined along the bar.

“Shay,” Leo warned.

“It’s not permanent.” Cassie’s voice was sweet and awkwardly comforting. “I’m already seeking other employment. Things are just slow in my line of work at the moment.”

“I’ll give you the money,” T.J. grated. He’d give her anything, now and after the divorce, she only had to ask. What he couldn’t give her was access to his life. Being around her, unable to touch or taste, would tear his already fractured restraint into pieces.

“No,” she insisted. “I’m not going to take your money. I need to re-establish my independence.”

He remained still. Unwilling to rake a hand through his hair to expose his trembling fingers.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Shay called from the bar, striding away to the opposite end to serve the birthday girl. “Welcome to the team.”

T.J.’s nostrils flared. Leo wasn’t happy either. He was glaring at his girlfriend, his jaw set in a stubborn line, while Brute carried his usual air of disinterest.

“When do you plan on starting?” Leo murmured.

“Actually, I came prepared to learn the ropes tonight. There’s been a lot of changes to the club since I was last here, and I thought I could spend the next few hours familiarizing myself.”

A tick formed under T.J.’s eye, the nervous twitch causing him to blink. He knew exactly where Cassie wanted to go, and he wouldn’t allow it. Not if he couldn’t be with her. The Vault of Sin was a place of pleasure, and he could never take her down there and leave her wanting.

It had been his sexual aspiration to introduce her to the club. To show the world how beautiful and responsive she was—the perfect wife. He didn’t brag. He didn’t boast. But he’d always envisaged the moment when he’d escort her downstairs and the patrons could see for themselves just how lucky he was.

“Maybe another time.” Preferably when he was dead and buried. “Go home. Leave us to figure out how to address this.”

“I’m afraid you don’t understand.” She turned to him. “This is my business, too. Anything you need to figure out should be done with my involvement.”

Brute cleared his throat. “Let’s not make this into an issue. I’ll show her around. She can work the restaurant bar on slow nights, or help with the books. No big deal.”

T.J. kept his gaze on her, wishing he could ignore the silent threat hidden beneath the innocent light blue of her eyes. “She’s not going downstairs.”

“There’s no need to refer to me like I’m not here. We can both be adults about this.”

“Can we?” He cocked a brow. She wasn’t acting like herself. He’d first noticed it in the way she’d replied to his message on Sunday. He was unfamiliar with her spite. He was used to sweet, nurturing, breathtaking Cassie. The woman before him was someone different, with a smile carved of malice. “You won’t go downstairs while you’re here.”

“This is my business, too. Where I go and what I do is none of your concern, as long as I do my job.”

He released a caustic laugh. That’s where she was wrong. She’d always be his concern—today, tomorrow and twenty years from now. That was the problem. He couldn’t let her go. But he was trying. Every inch of him hurt, every single day, in an effort to let go. If she came to work here, he’d be consumed with the need to be around her. He’d lose his mind. No doubt about it.

He broke away from her gaze and focused on Brute and Leo in turn. “She’s not to go down there. Hear me?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He turned and stalked from the Shot of Sin dance floor to head for the upstairs office, as far away from Cassie as possible. There were many things he was capable of right now—madness, mayhem, murder—what he couldn’t do was keep pretending he didn’t love her with all his heart.

She had too much to lose if they remained together. And even if she didn’t know it, he would kill himself trying to make up for the mistakes of his past.

* * *

Cassie’s cheeks ached from pasting the fake smile on her face for the last three hours. She was nervous. Nauseous from treating T.J. badly. Manipulation wasn’t something she agreed with, and the only thing keeping her here was the knowledge she’d gotten under his skin.

“I’d like to see downstairs.” She waited for her husband’s head to jerk up.

She’d been standing at the door to the upstairs office for a few minutes, merely watching him as he sat at the thick oak table, a laptop in front of him. He was lost in thought, not having moved since she’d found his hiding place. His eyes barely blinked as he stared at the screen reflecting its glow back on his handsome face.

“Not tonight.” His voice was low, barely reaching her ears.

“Why not? I’d like to see it.” She stepped forward, entering the room. He was entirely perfect—his face clean-shaven, his hair styled as usual, his suit flawless. He’d recovered from his misstep on Thursday and was now taking the divorce in stride, when even breathing seemed hard for her. “Brute said he’d be happy to show me around.”

His gaze gradually rose to meet hers, his eyes dark with anger. “This isn’t up for negotiation.”

She scoffed. Who was this man? He’d dictated the terms of their divorce, and even though they were largely made in her favor, she still resented his inability to discuss any of it with her first. Now he was telling her where she could and couldn’t go?

“You’re right.” She kept her tone light, unwilling to let the frustration, pain, anger and grief take over. “I am going down there. It isn’t up for negot—”

His chair shot back, the rough scrape along the wooden floorboards sending her heart into a rapid beat as he loomed over the desk. “Don’t push me, Cassie.” He strode for her, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “I’ve said no.”

She was scared—that she was pushing him away instead of tugging him forward. That he was beginning to hate her instead of realizing how much he loved her. That the plan was going in the opposite direction and she was digging her own grave. But his anger was far more appealing than his disregard for her existence.

“Why are you against me going down there? That part of the club isn’t even open tonight. It’s vacant. It’s not like I’m married and overseeing a sex club without the presence of my partner.”

His jaw clenched, his fists, too. “You said you didn’t have a problem with me working down there.”

“And I didn’t.” Not until he’d blindsided her with the end of their marriage. “So, you have no right to say I can’t go down there when it’s currently unoccupied. When I can’t even witness all those images you teased me with. Or experience all the pleasure you once promised. I’m going down there, T.J., whether you like it or not.” The more he refused, the more she wanted to push him, hoping he’d break.

“Not now, Cassie.”

The way he said her name, the raw savagery, made her throat constrict with sorrow. “Then when?”

Anguish flickered across his features, telling her there would never be a good time. She didn’t know what his problem was. It was an empty sex club. Why was he adamant she couldn’t enter the sacred walls? Could it be guilt? More misplaced protection? Or did he want to claim the club as his own, trying to keep the taint of his wife out of the sordid area so he could move on easier?

“I don’t know.”

She gave a sad smile and shrugged. “Well, I think now is the perfect time. And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you I’m still part owner, so your permission isn’t necessary.” She turned and sauntered the few steps to the door. “I’ll be going down there with Brute as soon as the private party is finished.”

As she reached the threshold, he still hadn’t responded, breaking her heart all over again because he’d stopped fighting so easily. He didn’t make sense to her anymore. She couldn’t read him. Couldn’t predict his thoughts or actions, when once his love had been a reliable strength she could always count on.

She hung her head and entered the hall. No tears formed even though pain consumed her. She was all cried out. She was past waterworks. Tears didn’t fix anything. People did. She did. So why the heck couldn’t she figure out the man she knew better than she knew herself?

“Cass…”

She froze, straightening her shoulders as the muted thump of the downstairs music throbbed around her.

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. “I’ve given you the car, the house, the dog. Leave me the Vault. Just give me this one thing.”

Her throat tightened, the beat of her heart increasing until the rhythmic pounding became painful. “Don’t do this to you?” She swung around, hoping the fury in her veins matched the expression on her face. “How dare you? You break my heart, turn my life upside down and expect me to do you favors? And over the same type of establishment that destroyed our marriage? Christ, T.J. Who the hell are you?”

He stood in the doorway, unable to meet her gaze as he opened his mouth to speak.

“No.” She raised a hand, cutting him off. “Forget it. I’m going downstairs with Brute. You can have your damn club once the divorce is final. Until then, you better get used to me going wherever the hell I like.”

Instead of fighting like she anticipated, he stepped backward, disappearing into the office and closing the door behind him.

Damn him.

The more they fought, the more she questioned what she was doing. His unfamiliar actions were making her second-guess the marriage they’d once had. Second-guess T.J. in general. Previously, she’d thought he could never taint the memories she had. Now, she wasn’t so sure. He was dampening everything. Their love. Their happiness.

Shay was wrong. Being close to him hadn’t given her the upper hand. It had resulted in the opposite. Because now she was beginning to believe the divorce may be exactly what they needed. Maybe they were better off alone.