“No problem.” She raised her chin, the defiance of the woman he used to know coming back in full force.

“So how about you and Leo? What did I miss while I was away?”

She waggled her brows. “A lot of debauchery.”

No way. Leo was taking it slow, unwilling to risk scaring Shay away from the lifestyle. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Yes.” Her smile was bright. “We’re taking our relationship day by day.”

“But you’re enjoying yourself.” He could see it in the undiluted happiness of her features. She was no longer opposed to the Vault. The realization stung. Why couldn’t it have turned out this way for him and Cass? Why did he have to ruin what they could’ve been?

Because he couldn’t help fucking up.

“I’m glad the two of you are working things out.” He hadn’t been able to do the same with his wife. The guilt was too heavy, the weight of regret a constant punishment. Everything else that followed was like an avalanche burying the happiness he’d once had. “I suppose I better get downstairs and show Leo and Brute I’m not slacking off.”

He pushed from the stool and strode to her. “I hope you’re right about this masquerade party.”

She flashed him a confident smile. “I am.”

He followed her down the stairs to the Vault. They passed people in the hall, couples, singles, some dressed in evening attire, others already in lingerie and making their way back into the main part of the club. All of them wore masks to partially or completely hide their faces.

“Hey, Zoe,” Shay called out.

Zoe James, one of their regulars, sauntered toward them. “I’m loving this masquerade idea.”

She wore a flattering shimmery dress, her sexy attire matching her equally appealing personality. However, it was her companion, the dark-haired woman lingering behind her, that caught his attention.

Her inability to hold his gaze confirmed her club virginity before his focus had a chance to rest on her wristband. The poor woman was distraught, her wringing hands another indication of her anxiety.

If it were any other day, maybe he would’ve tried to offer support. A welcoming smile or an indication for Shay to show her around. But there was something about her that put him on edge. She was too nervous, her gaze lowering almost as if in submission as he scrutinized her.

Did he know her? Something inside him sparked familiarity, yet he couldn’t place her features. He usually noticed the blondes. Ones who didn’t need to bolster their confidence behind a mask of bright lipstick and dark eye makeup. This woman was a poser. The type to boost her esteem through a fake façade.

So why was he suddenly comparing her features to his wife? Fuck. He needed to ditch the matrimonial titles and remember Cassie was destined to be his ex.

A new wave of hurt hit him as he tore his gaze away and massaged his forehead to fight the lingering thoughts. “I gotta get going.” He maneuvered around them, not chancing another glance at the woman. “I’ll see you all inside.”

This was what it had been like all week. All month. Every woman reminded him of Cassie. Every shadow was hers. She was already haunting him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her presence. The memories, although painful, were also a blessing. Without her, he was nothing.

He entered a four-digit code into the panel at the closed door at the end of the hall and yanked the heavy wood open. Pleasure bombarded him. Not his own, unfortunately. The fulfillment of others surrounded him as he strode through the newbie area and into the main room of Vault of Sin.

He inclined his head at guests, recognizing some and completely oblivious to the identity of others as he maneuvered around patrons. Beds were already in use, their occupants participating in varying degrees of flirtation, foreplay and sex.

Leo was behind the bar, dressed the same as T.J. in a suit and tie—standard attire for Vault staff.

Leo jerked his head in greeting. “I’m glad you came.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

He hated the diminished respect Leo and Brute had tried to hide due to his time off. Since returning, they tiptoed around him, treating him like a casual part of the ownership team instead of an equal partner.

“Maybe a little.”

T.J. winced. “Well, I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

“Want to take over helping Travis while I do a walk-around? Brute will be finished assisting security at the door soon. Then I think the two of us should relax and take the night off.” A smirk curled the corner of Leo’s lips. “You never know, you might find someone willing to occupy your time.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He ignored yet another hint to move on from his wife. His ex. He’d never get used to calling Cassie that.

They didn’t understand. If you fell off a bike and skinned your knee, you got straight back on to fight the childish fear. If you shattered your marriage, devastating not only your own life, but also the future of the one person who would forever hold your heart, you didn’t slide straight back into the dating pool. You waited for the burn to heal. You waited for the shattered parts of your soul to return from wherever the fuck they’d fled to, so you could finally sleep at night and gain some perspective that wasn’t tarnished by the psychotic ramblings of insomnia.

Or maybe you didn’t. Maybe you cut and run. How the hell did he know? Was it best to take a shot of cement, harden the hell up and build that damn bridge straightaway? Fuck. Nothing made sense. Nothing mattered. There was no longer a paved road toward the perfect future.

He was in limbo.

In the past, sex had always had healing qualities. The rush of release, the boost of endorphins. Hooking up with a random woman and starting the transition could be the best thing for him.

Doubtful.

He was so damn sick of the confusion. The warring emotions. It was bad enough making the decision to leave Cassie in the first place. Moving on seemed harder. Permanent. A divorce only ruined the piece of paper that made them husband and wife. Sleeping with someone else would finalize the process. Never to be rekindled.

He needed to sort his shit out. Now. Before he lost any more respect and entitlement.

So who was he? The bastard in need of closure? Or the man who’d vowed to forever remain true to Cassie, even after divorce tore them apart?

Hell. He didn’t have a clue, but by the end of the night, he had a feeling he would.

Chapter Five

With shaky hands, Cassie placed her dress in the locker. Her skin was still on fire from the run-in with T.J. in the hall. It may be delusional or wishful thinking, but she could’ve sworn there’d been a spark of recognition in his eyes. Pain too.

“Are you meeting anyone here tonight?” Zoe asked. “Maybe your husband…”

Cassie looked down at herself, making sure her slip covered all her important parts. Her breasts had barely fit into the cups, their volume overflowing and creating a mass of cleavage. She didn’t have the courage to expose her stomach. The vulnerability of showing her thighs was hard enough with the material barely reaching the bottom of her matching panties. The more skin she covered, the better—for her confidence and T.J.’s inability to recognize her.

“I’m not married.” Cassie closed the locker door. She didn’t want to go into the details of her failed love life. The less connection she had to T.J., the smaller the chance of getting caught.

Zoe raised her chin and focused on Cassie’s hands. “Your rings say otherwise.”

“Oh, shit.” She turned her body away, frantically working the jewelry from her wedding finger. “It’s not what you think.”

The room filled with silence, the comforting aura Zoe had bathed her in washed away. Cassie worked the rings off and hastened to enter the security pin into the electronic locker keypad before anyone else spied the telling jewelry. “I’m not married,” she blurted. “Or I soon won’t be.”