Zane couldn’t figure if it was due to the funeral suit he wore, the only formal attire he owned, or the familiar faces he’d be seeing at the wedding today that turned his stomach to knots. Already, sweat beaded along his skin, the suit jacket causing the heat to intensify while he walked along the city streets to the venue. More than a couple of glances slipped his way, most of them female, giving him body scans. He flashed a polite smile their way but picked up the pace to Graystone Hall.

Despite the skyscrapers cutting their mark on the city and drenching the area in shadow, Graystone Hall stood out from unique construction alone. Looking up at the distinguished old building with its looming columns, an arced window spanning over half the length, an intricate web of copper lattice separating the glass down the middle, he slipped his hand into his pocket to pinch his chip. Liv would be working this wedding, her car packed with equipment, so she needed to come separately.

Why the hell he’d agreed to go was beyond him. This seemed like a recipe for disaster.

In the front parking lot, he caught sight of a familiar figure, her teal hair glowing under the light and her pale-yellow cap-sleeve swing dress hugging curves he wanted to sink his teeth into. When she caught sight of him, a huge smile broke out on her face, making her eyes sparkle. Ah yeah—that was the reason he showed, because he’d do anything to see that look on her face. Even if he had to plunge into awkward, forced conversation with a bunch of unknowns and a couple of surly assholes who wouldn’t appreciate him being there.

She slunk up to him as he reached the parking lot, her white kitten heels clicking on the pavement. Hell, if he didn’t want to strip the dress off her here and now and get those long legs, heels included, wrapped around him. Once he got her home after this wedding, he knew what they’d be doing—the same bedroom tango they’d been doing the past few days.

The shadow from the tall, elegant building fell over him, cooling things down. The refurbished bank displayed formidable stone arches and carved columns that traveled the whole length. Amber lights spilled out the whole span of windows lined in black. Already, the day waned, the afternoon sun hazy as the rays sharpened the shadows along the pavement.

“How’d the ceremony go?” he asked once he got close enough. Her eyes roved over him, but unlike the once-overs he’d received on the way over, the predatory hunger in her gaze ignited his lust like nothing else. She breached the distance between them, twining her arms around his neck. He claimed those scarlet lips, enjoying the sweet taste as his arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her tightly to his body. The way she ground against him lit his senses, and the urge to mount her against the nearest car washed over him in a fierce way.

She licked her lips as they pulled away. “You should wear a suit more often.”

He grinned. “If I get this kind of greeting, sounds like a plan.”

Despite all the time they’d been spending together between jobs, he still somehow made all his meetings, something his sponsor had warned him about when he started dating Liv for real. It helped that the girl was driven and passionate about her photography, so she could entertain herself. On top of everything, she pushed him to go to his meetings even when he dragged his heels, understanding they needed to be a priority for him. The woman was one in a million.

A limousine pulled in front of Graystone Hall, and the bridal party came tumbling out like clowns from a car. The bride wore the sort of cupcake monstrosity he’d seen a thousand times before, all tulle and fluffed skirts, while the groom and his cavalry donned simple black tuxes. The bridesmaids shuffled out in rose-pink dresses, the usual bland nonsense that didn’t seem to fit a single girl right. None of the dolled-up women captured his eye like Liv did.

She leaned up to peck him on the lips. “Got to snap a couple shots in front of the building. Thank you a thousand times over for coming with me.”

He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against her car, the sun causing the hunter green paint to sparkle. Liv went off to chat with the bride, and within minutes, had her tripod set up while the bridal party began to assemble in front of the building. Graystone Hall’s pale stone contrasted with the glow of the copper lattice. Its elegance fit all the folks in their wedding finery who would be pouring through those copper-lined doors shortly.

He watched as Liv directed the bridal party into various poses, and the women’s dresses rustled and the men’s dress shoes clapped the pavement as everyone followed orders as quickly as possible. An easy confidence emanated from her, the sort bred from familiarity. It was the same way he navigated his kitchen at the restaurant, so he understood the feeling. Her passion for photography had grown along with her knowledge and skills, giving her a strength and assurance that made her glow.

Laughter erupted from the group as they broke into goofy poses, getting loose and natural after the staged shots. Zane couldn’t keep his eyes off Liv, her eyes alight with the joy of her work. How they’d ever survived without each other mystified him, because every moment they spent together cemented how natural their communication flowed. She understood him better than anyone else ever had.

It was not like they didn’t have their share of secrets. Both of them kept their roughest memories close to the cuff. Zane hoped to extend their time as long as possible before the inevitable truth of the night Lex ditched him for good came to light. She would recognize him for the monster he was, and she would walk. His throat tightened, and he honed his focus on the photo shoot. The itch crawled in with his self-loathing, and he knew the open bar would be hell tonight.

After several minutes of snapping shots, more cars began to pull into the lot, and older guests wearing sequined dresses and pressed tuxes stepped out to make their way towards the building. Liv shooed off the bridal party with a wink. Zane came up beside her to lift her tripod, helping her with the myriad of light stands and reflectors.

“We can enjoy cocktail hour,” Liv said as they carried her setup towards the building. “Then when the entrances hit, I’ll be back on duty to get the main shots until the special dances. We’re at an offshoot table with some random cousins, so no worries about having to deal with flashes from the past.” He followed her with the tripod and an assortment of packed bags she slipped around his shoulder.

“You normally take care of this all yourself?” he asked, shifting the surprisingly heavy bag. The blast of air conditioning buffeted him with a chill upon entrance. As they stepped inside, the dangling crystal chandelier and diagonal marble flooring whispered wealth. A large bloom of pink-petaled lilies burst from a gigantic copper vase set in the center of the room as a focal point.

He resisted the shudder threatening to roll through him. A guy like him didn’t belong in a fancy place like this.

Liv elbowed him in the side as they walked along. “Wedding gigs aren’t my favorite scene either, too frou-frou for my tastes. Let’s enjoy the free food while we have the chance.”

Warmth flooded his chest at the way the woman tuned into his wavelength at any given time. She observed with that sparrow-like curiosity when most others would ignore or walk away.

Up ahead, paper lanterns glowed from the ceilings across the side room. Long tables covered in crisp white tablecloths, ornate copper candlesticks, and trumpets of pink lilies in crystal vases spanned the length. Plates of traditional appetizers nestled on each one, slices of Gouda, diced cucumbers, finger-sized crab cakes and cordon bleu balls, the colorful displays stretching all the way to the bar on the opposite side of the room. Zane stared down the dozens of glass bottles nestled behind the hardwood counter, swallowing hard.

A string quartet had begun playing in the far corner with muted spotlights illuminating them as sweet strains poured through the cocktail room. Guests began pouring through the doors. An older couple in their seventies stepped inside, the glint of the silver watches and gold rings on their fingers catching the light. A younger couple trailed in behind them, the pinched way they observed the room marking them off as unapproachable. Liv led him in the direction of the glass door to the far right, and together they stepped into the ballroom.

Globe lights cast their magic on the vast room, the silvery glow splayed across the dark-stained hardwood floors. Circular tables with lit candles and maroon tablecloths covered half the floor while the other part remained open for dancing. Liv strode to the corner to set her reflectors and light stand down, and Zane followed with the bags and tripod.

“Promise me a dance later?” Liv asked when she finished moving her assortment of equipment to the corner.

Zane trailed his fingertips along her chin, drawing her attention to him. “Of course, babe. I assumed that would come with wedding guest duty.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how many guys put up a hissy fit about ‘not looking cool’ because they’re not good at dancing. I always forget you don’t give a shit about stuff like that.”

Zane snorted. Compared to his daily battles with alcohol and the derision he dealt with from his past record, something like not being able to dance ranked among ‘who gives a fuck.’ He slipped his hand in hers and tugged her into a twirl. She followed with ease, the skirt of her dress flaring out and rippling back down as she came around to face him again. She ended up pressed against him even closer, her slim body pure temptation. Zane dipped down to claim her mouth, and Liv melted against him in a way that made him lose his mind.

“You’re bad,” she murmured against his lips. “All I can think about is finding somewhere private and ditching these clothes.” Liv pulled away from him, smoothing her skirts while an impish grin played on her face. Despite the way his heart accelerated and his libido flared to life, he knew better than to push. Despite this being her cousin’s wedding, she attended in a professional capacity, and he wouldn’t risk her reputation.

“Care to join me in grabbing as many crab cakes as I can cram in my mouth?” she asked, extending her arm. He slipped his own through hers, and together they walked in time. Liv cast a glance up, those blue eyes snaring him. “Don’t worry,” she lowered her voice. “I’m making sure we steer clear of the bar.”

“My God, woman. Could you be any more perfect?” he said, shaking his head. If the pull was too strong today, he didn’t question that she would understand him sitting this one out. He didn’t deserve someone like her, and yet for some reason she always softened around him in a way she didn’t with anyone else. He’d seen the tough front she put on around friends and how she fought with her brother to be taken seriously.

“Careful, feeding the ego could have dangerous results.” Liv winked as they strolled into the cocktail room where a crowd had begun to gather, most fighting their way to the beautifully displayed hors d’oeuvres.

“Lucky for you I like a little risk,” he shot back as they made their way to the nearest table where a platter of those golden-crumbed crab cakes awaited. Even though this night wouldn’t be easy he had the most beautiful woman in the room on his arm and a bounty of quality food to sample.

The strains of the violin echoed through the room combined with a cavalcade of heels as guests filtered in through those now-opened doors. Liv took her declaration of conquering the cocktail table seriously, loading a plate full of crab cakes, cheeses, and a dozen different puff pastry concoctions.

He scanned over the arrangement with a familiarity of all the garnishes, practiced presentation, and the knowledge that what guests thought were hand-crafted were in fact reheated packaged frozen food. Not like he minded that sort of thing, but contrary to common belief, high prices didn’t always correlate with quality food. Hell, half of the best meals he’d found around Louisville came from the food trucks he hoped to join the ranks of some day.

One of the women in the pink bridesmaid dresses shuffled over in their direction, and Zane tugged on Liv’s arm to get her attention. She was mid-chew on a mouthful of a Frankenstein-mash of at least four of the different puff pastry creations when she turned to face the bridesmaid. Liv nodded and held her finger up in a gesture to wait as she swallowed. Zane’s lips pressed together tightly as he tried and failed to hide his smirk.

“Some family members want shots real quick,” the bridesmaid explained, her hands jumping on instinct to smooth her blonde curls. “Do you mind?”

“Not a problem,” she said, “I’ll be right there.” Liv glanced to Zane, the apology evident in her eyes. “I know, I know, I’m the worst wedding date on the planet. I won’t be offended if you need to cut a quick retreat.”

Zane forced a smile even though his stomach dropped at the thought of her darting off again. Not like he couldn’t hold his own among strangers, but these were her strangers, and the idea of facing Liv’s family again twisted his stomach to knots. “I’ll be here,” he said, tipping his fingers in a salute.

She bit her lip but nodded as her professional mask settled into place and she darted off after the bridesmaid to get back to work, leaving him isolated in a sea of strangers. Zane clutched his small plate like a life raft as he wandered closer to the entrance, as far away from the bar as possible. No one would know if he snagged a drink right now, and the thought combined with the pressure of this situation threatened his resolve. Attending had been a bad move. He hissed out a low breath as he leaned against the wall, looking up to the polished ceiling that reflected the hazy glow of the chandeliers.

He scanned over the crowds filtering in through the glass doors, most of them separating into groups the moment they spotted another relative or old friend in the crowd. He chased an olive around his plate before biting into the salty Kalamata in an effort to distract himself from the steady pulse that would soon grow into a roar. Liv had already given him the go-ahead to leave, but he wanted to stay. For once he wanted to be a normal date, not inundated with his own issues. He wanted to be someone she deserved.

Zane looked to the entrance again, not sure what he searched for, since the only familiar face he would see at this wedding would be Liv’s.

Until one person he believed he’d never see again strode to the door.

Those ice blue eyes were so similar to Liv’s, and even with the buzz cut and the way he had packed on muscle Zane would recognize Lex Morozov anywhere.

Fuck.

Before Zane could cut a hasty retreat to the bathroom, the ballroom, anywhere out of sight, Lex’s eyes flashed in recognition. Zane’s hand balled into a fist, and the urge to drink pounded into him something fierce. He clenched his jaw—nothing to do but confront this here and now.

“Parata, what are you doing at a fancy shindig like this?” Lex called upon approach, his voice seemingly amenable—at least to anyone who didn’t know him well enough. Zane caught the icy edge in his tone and the razor sharpness in his stare. Out-and-out bolting wouldn’t work, and besides, if he planned on continuing to date Liv, this confrontation would happen sooner or later.

“Got roped into coming. You know your sister’s damn persuasive,” he responded, keeping his tone even and his face calm despite the stirrings of a storm that rose inside his chest.

Lex leaned against the wall beside him. “We both know you don’t belong here,” he said with a pointed sharpness that stung. Hell, Lex didn’t need to tell him. He’d already felt as isolated as possible in this crowd. “There’s no way in hell I’ll let you keep dating my sister.” He kept his voice low, but fire blazed in those eyes.

“Don’t think that’s up to you, buddy,” Zane responded, annoyance beginning to sizzle his nerves.

Lex faced him, arms crossed. “Her life was destroyed by one monster. I won’t let that happen again.”

The word drove through him like a dagger to the heart. Even though he kept his face blank, inside, his defenses began to crumble. Every argument he’d made for staying in this relationship, every blink of hope and warmth around her, every time he allowed himself to open his heart and care again—all of that got swallowed in a vacuum threatening to consume him. Monster. The darkness threatened to devour him, tendrils wrapping around his body, plunging inside until he choked on it. His stomach dropped, and he swallowed, hard.

“I was there, Z,” Lex whispered, unrelenting. “I saw the blood on your hands. I watched you beat Jay until he wasn’t breathing anymore. You’re fucking lucky you’re not locked up for life.”

Those words. That face.

The memories he kept in his vault unleashed, and not a soul in the world could save Zane from getting tugged under.