by Eden Summers
Their home.
He followed her, inching the car forward with each of her steps. He made sure to lurk behind the street corners until she was out of sight before he’d move farther. When Cassie reached the road to their house, his stomach hollowed. A car was waiting in their driveway. A car he’d arranged to be there.
Her footsteps faltered as she approached, and when a man dressed in a tailored black suit slid from the car, she stopped abruptly. There was an exchange of words, but he was too far away to read lips. He didn’t need to though. The envelope in the guy’s hand said it all. The resulting anguish on his wife’s stunning face cemented what had just happened.
The divorce papers were now firmly in her grasp. He couldn’t help inching forward, taking her suffering head-on. He deserved her pain. Her spite. He wanted to feel it. To suffer as much as possible.
She wouldn’t realize this was necessary. She probably never would. And that was okay. He could live with the responsibility. He already had for months.
The black Mercedes reversed from his driveway, pulled onto the road and disappeared into the distance. All he could do was stare. And suck in the pain he could see ebbing from his wife in tidal waves. She was shaking, clasping the envelope tightly, her gaze fixed on the green grass at her feet.
He inched the car forward, consoling himself with her proximity. She was so close. He could almost feel the delicate strands of her hair through his fingers. Could almost smell the perfume he’d bought her for their last wedding anniversary.
He’d kill to touch her again. To soothe the sorrow from her eyes with his kiss. With his passion.
But that would never happen. Not once. Not ever.
He focused over her shoulder, needing a distraction, and settled his gaze on the home they’d built with their bare hands. From the foundation to the curtains, the landscaping to the damn mailbox. All of it had been created with hard work, determination and love. Lots of love.
Cheesy, yes, but it had been one of those moments in life where he’d thought he’d actually achieved greatness. He’d had a wife he adored, a brand-new home to shelter the family they planned to create, and their German shepherd, Bear, to complete the package.
It seemed like yesterday they were arguing about the color to paint the internal walls. He’d remained adamant about his choice up until the moment they’d begun the arduous chore. Then, like always, the gorgeous smile Cassie had greeted him with as he’d opened the paint can had made her crappy selection worthwhile.
That smile undid him. Or it had. It felt like years had passed since she’d dazzled him with her happiness. A day without her resembled an eternity. So, the pain of the months spent separated couldn’t be described.
He missed sweeping her off her feet—physically and emotionally. He missed the way she squealed when he tickled her ankles. Most of all, he missed feeling the softness of her curves against his body as he fell asleep.
He’d never get back to that place.
What they had was gone. Dead and buried. He’d killed all hope for a future. He’d wasted her time and ruined her life. He couldn’t do it anymore. It had to stop.
He slammed his palms against the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut to fight the burn. Soon it would be over. Their court appearance was in less than a month. The documents in her hand explained all the assets he was giving her—the car, the house, their dog. She would continue to be financially stable if she retained her job. She would be safe and secure. And maybe, one day, happy.
The next twenty-seven days were going to kill him, though. Every other day afterward, too. But they could both start over after the heartache eased. Cassie could focus on working up the ranks in her hotel administration position. Maybe she’d find a new man. Someone else to love her. To hold her. To see those achingly brilliant smiles and wipe away her tears.
“Shit.” He needed to get out of here before he crumpled completely.
He opened his eyes, blinked to clear his vision and stared at the flawless woman as she squinted directly at his car. Oh, fuck.
The envelope dropped to the ground as her hands fell to her sides. She stood there, lower lip trembling, chest convulsing, as her misery hit him tenfold.
“Divorce papers?” Her voice cracked as she yelled.
Jesus. He’d pushed her too far. Cassie was quiet, composed and polite, at least for every other day of their marriage. Right now, she was causing a scene, alerting their nosy neighbors to her imminent breakdown.
He shouldn’t have come. He should’ve gone to Shot of Sin, drowned in a bottle of something expensive and relied on Leo and Brute to get him home. Instead, he was cutting the ignition and sliding from the car, unable to stand her misery.
He strode for her, determined to explain that life would be better this way. It had to be better. She had to be better. He couldn’t exist if she wasn’t.
“You’re a coward, Tate Jackson.” She didn’t move, didn’t budge as her lips trembled. “A weak, pathetic coward who can’t even spare his wife the dignity of telling her he wants a divorce. You had to get some stranger to inform me.”
He increased his pace up the drive. “Lower your voice.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth parted slightly. Then she slowly raised her chin. “No.” Her voice was a breath. “That tone has no effect on me anymore. Those papers make it so.” She waved a hand in the direction of the envelope on the grass. “How could you?”
He stopped in front of her, rested his hand against her upper arm and tried to lead her inside, away from prying eyes.
“Don’t you dare.” She slid away from him, her gentle features contorting into a glare. She’d never looked at him like this before. It was foreign. Hard to take.
He would give his soul to drag her forward into his chest and comfort her in his arms until the harsh reality faded. He missed her. God, how he missed her. Her scent lingered in the air, tempting his restraint. And those lips… He released a huff of frustration. The way she kissed would never be comparable. Her loving heart would forever be a part of him.
Cassie sucked in a breath, straightened her shoulders and met his gaze head-on. “Don’t do this to us, T.J.” Her light blue eyes pleaded more than her words ever could. “Please. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”
He was thankful for the rapid scampering of nails against cement, then the loud bark of Bear as he voiced his greeting from the side gate. They remained silent through the echoing noise, his focus unable to leave her face. Time stopped, and the understanding of why he was doing this became blurry.
She was still the most mesmerizing woman he’d ever seen. The dress she wore clung to all her delicious curves, outlining breasts and hips that had tormented his dreams. The nipples beading against the thin cotton made his mouth dry, and he wished like hell he hadn’t noticed. But it was her eyes, the sky-blue depths welling with unshed tears that tore him apart.
“T.J.” Her voice barely registered over the throbbing in his ears. Her hand came up between them, her palm creeping toward his chest.
He stepped back, sensing the burn her contact would ignite. Her delicate touch would undo him. It would send him spiraling with a one-way ticket to the courthouse to cancel the divorce proceedings.
She was his heart. The one woman who brought out his darkest desires and forged a sexual appetite he couldn’t ignore. She allowed him the freedom to become the man he always wanted to be, yet at the same time made him wish he was someone else entirely. Someone better. Someone worthy of a woman so forgiving and sweet.
She dropped her hand slowly to her side and Bear quietened.
Her gaze lowered, her light lashes fluttering down toward her blushed cheeks. “I can’t live without you, Tate.”
Fucking hell. She was gutting him, slicing open his chest and letting his insides fall to the ground. How could he walk away? How could he leave her, knowing this time he’d never return?
“It’s for the best,” he lied.
For Cassie, it wo
uld be the truth, but from this moment on, he’d forever be less of a man for losing this woman from his life.
Cassie held her breath, agonizing over the resolution in her husband’s tight features. He was adamant. Confident in his decision. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why.
She pressed her lips together, vowing not to shed another tear, at least not in front of him. Goddamnit. She wanted to shake him. To slap him out of whatever spell he was under and make him remember the happiness they’d once shared. She’d been content. Their honeymoon phase had never faded. It had only morphed into a deeper connection where T.J. had showed her a whole new side of herself.
He awakened her to life. To love. To pleasure. And although it had hurt when he’d packed his bags and told her he needed time apart, she’d known, without doubt, that their commitment to one another couldn’t be extinguished by a few months’ separation.
Love like theirs was a gift. One she couldn’t go without.
“The divorce can’t be legal. I won’t agree to it.”
“I don’t need your consent, Cass, the court date has already been set.”
“That’s impossible.” The blood drained from her face, making her dizzy. She shook her head, in disbelief or defiance, she wasn’t sure. There was no way their separation fulfilled the legal requirements for what he was doing. “You moved out six months ago. I’m sure we need to be apart for twelve before you can file for divorce.”
His gaze softened, his brown eyes filling with pity. “I stopped sleeping in your bed a year ago. That’s enough for the courts.”
Her heart stopped, and pain ricocheted through her ribs, growing with intensity. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to alleviate the agony that wouldn’t lessen. It continued to evolve, moving to her limbs, weakening her knees.
“Why?” The word skittered from her trembling lips.
The answer was clear without him having to voice it. His warped sense of masculine protection had taken its toll, leaving him a slave to the guilt he had no right to feel.
“Is this still about that stupid club?” The one fateful night where their excitement to experiment had gone too far.
“This is about me.” His tone was low. Unwavering. “Nobody else.”
“Liar.” She knew the truth. They’d had one bad experience. One testing, heartbreaking experience, and now he was ready to quit. “You still haven’t let go of what happened.”
“You’re right.” He inclined his head. “I can’t. I never will. But the divorce is about much more than that.”
In her mind, she was screaming, clawing at the beautiful eyes she’d gazed into on her wedding day, the same ones she’d imagined would peer down at their first child with intense adoration if they were ever blessed with a baby.
“I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips tight.
Sorry? He hadn’t even given her the opportunity to repair what was broken. He hadn’t even tried.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” She shook her head again, vehement this time.
Twelve months ago, he’d started sleeping on the sofa, breaking her heart with his need for space—for clarity she couldn’t give. Six months later, he’d strode from their house needing more distance.
At the time, she’d thought it was best to adhere to his wishes. His love for her was still evident in his eyes, his words, his touch. So, she’d let him go, giving him what he needed. Months and months of space where she cried herself to sleep for nights on end, not once pushing him to return.
Now she wasn’t so stupid. She wouldn’t succumb to his requests again.
The pain in her chest morphed into anger, red-hot and all consuming. Every inch of her was filled with determination, every nerve thrumming with the need to win this battle.
“I’ll fight it. I’ll tell the judge we haven’t been separated that long.” Her voice rose. “I’ll do whatever necessary.”
His jaw ticked. “We both know you won’t lie under oath.”
Maybe not. He knew her too well.
“We never went to counseling. I’ll tell the court I want to try that first.” There had to be another way. A different option.
“You didn’t go, Cass, but I did.” He hung his head, hammering another nail into the coffin of their marriage.
“You went to counseling without me?” Her words barely registered. This didn’t make sense. They were perfect together. They’d shared everything from explicit sexual fantasies to their greatest fears and everything in between. His actions didn’t compute. They’d only made one wrong decision. One mistake, and now she was meant to give up on their future. There had to be more.
“Is there another woman?” Nausea edged up her throat. “Is that what this is about? You’ve found someone else?”
She died a thousand deaths waiting for his reply. Her mind went on a psychotic bender, picturing him cheating with beautiful women. Skinny, flawless women. Ones with slight curves and perky breasts.
She sucked in a breath. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve been unfaithful.”
“No.” The word was emphatic as he glanced at her through the loose strands of dark-brown hair falling around his chocolate eyes.
Her body sagged, and she clasped her hands to stop them from shaking. She believed him. She had no clue why, but she clung to the sincerity in his gaze. She had to.
“Then why, T.J.? You can’t leave me because of one mistake.”
“Cassie.” Her name was a plea.
“Don’t Cassie me. You need to explain how you can walk away so easily. It doesn’t make sense.” She no longer cared for the heartache etched in his features. All her sympathy had washed away under her own pain. She needed answers. Now.
His features crumpled as he turned his focus back to his car parked yards down the road. “This is about me wanting the best for you.” He ran a rough hand through his hair and clutched the back of his head. “You deserve better.”
“Bullshit. This is about one night, and one night only. Can’t you see how ridiculous that is?”
“Lower your voice.”
His commanding growl sent a myriad of heated memories to the forefront. She loved that dominant voice. But she’d never obey him again. Not unless they remained husband and wife.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He stepped back, placing agonizing distance between them. “Hurting you is the last thing I want to do.”
“Then stop.”
“I have. That’s what the divorce is all about. After you pick yourself up, you’ll realize this is the best path for your future.”
“The best path?” She glared. “No. The best path for me will always lead to my husband.”
He raised his chin, met her gaze. “Trust me on this.”
She stared at him, noticing the added lines of strain around his eyes, the downward turn of heavenly lips she was too used to seeing curved in the opposite direction.
“There is no more trust.” She tried not to let his retreating steps make her want to buckle under the weight of loss.
T.J. acknowledged her bitter words with a nod and turned on his heels. He thought he was walking out of her life. Out of her heart. Yet, he could never leave. Even when he’d stopped sleeping in their bed, she’d still felt him beside her. And when he’d left their home, she’d clung to the thought of him, waiting for his return.
She would never lose faith in their marriage, no matter what lay ahead. The only problem was, after twelve months of despair, she didn’t know how much fight she had left in her to battle for what they both deserved.
Chapter Two
“Nice to see you, stranger.”
T.J. swung around to face the playful voice he barely recognized over the heavy dance music. “Hey, sassy. Long time no see.”
“Sassy?” Shay raised a brow and quirked her lips. “First time you’ve called me that.”
“If the shoe fits.” He nudged her arm and continued walking toward the guarded doorway leading to the private area downstairs. A Shot
of Sin, the dance club he owned with his two best friends, Leo and Brute, was too noisy for him tonight. He was still adrift after seeing Cassie this morning. He needed grounding, and he wasn’t going to get it from working behind a bustling bar. The only other option, now that their Taste of Sin restaurant was closed for the evening, was Vault of Sin.
Shay shrugged. “True.” Her smile was genuine, full of the mischief he’d grown to enjoy. “So, what’s with the request to work downstairs? Leo told me that part of the business wasn’t your forte.”
And so the inquisition began.
He came to a stop in front of the security guard situated at the entry to the staircase leading downstairs and gave a nod of appreciation as the man opened the door. The Vault, hidden below the main floor of Shot of Sin, was a private club where members had no intention of dancing and every motivation to get naked and participate in more carnal exercise.
The sex club had never been his favorite place to work because of his commitment to Cassie. She knew what happened behind the closed doors, and although he’d sensed her discomfort, she’d never stipulated he couldn’t fulfill this part of his ownership duties.
He’d taken it upon himself to distance his time from the sexually explicit Vault of Sin. He did it as a mark of respect to the woman he adored, especially since they’d never had the opportunity to enjoy the area together. Their problems had started before the sex-club part of his business had been established. And once the doors had opened, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to invite her in.
Now his presence didn’t seem to matter so much.
“It’s quieter down here,” he murmured.
Shay followed him into the dimly lit staircase and the guard closed the door behind them. Together they descended, passing pictures of couples on the walls, naked bodies entwined in different sexual positions that only endeavored to remind him of his wife.
“It’s quieter at the moment because nobody is down here. But it won’t be for long.” Shay chuckled. “Some of the clientele are noisy fuckers, and I mean that literally.”
