Seems like Diane is too. She says nothing. Doesn’t stop me from leaving. Doesn’t throw anything at me. We’re just…

  Done.

  I turn and make my way down the rest of the stairs, stopping in the foyer to look back up one more time, secretly hoping she’s still standing there. Watching me.

  But no. She’s gone. Probably in her giant walk-in closet rifling through her expensive belongings, our conversation already forgotten.

  She doesn’t care. She never has. She’s selfish, only worried about her next move, concerned about who’s going to take care of her, never thinking of anyone else. That’s the realization I had only a moment ago. My mother doesn’t care about me, but I shouldn’t take it personally. She doesn’t care about anyone.

  Only herself.

  I leave the house without a backward glance, quietly pulling the door shut. I walk down the driveway, headed for Savannah’s car, which is parked a few blocks down the street. My footsteps are light, my mind clear. I glance up at the blue sky, smiling when the warmth of the sun caresses my face, and I actually laugh.

  For once in my life I’m full of joy. It’s a strange feeling, one I’m not used to. It’s like those oppressive emotions I’ve carried with me all these years have evaporated into thin air. I’m finally free.

  Free.

  Jensen

  Six months later

  “Fuck me, this is the life.”

  I take the straw hat off my head and smack Rhett with it. He lets loose a soft “ow” and rubs his arm, glaring at me. We’re sitting out by the pool, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore nearby, the breeze rustling the fronds of the giant palm trees that loom above us.

  He’s right. This is definitely the life.

  “Don’t talk like that,” I chastise. “There are little children nearby.”

  The “little children” are Addie and Trent, who accompanied us to Maui. We’re staying in a gorgeous vacation home not far from Makena Beach for the next two weeks, thanks to an old family friend of the Montgomerys. Rhett’s family has a vacation home in the Caribbean, so the two families like to trade a lot.

  Ah, the perks of having a boyfriend who comes from a wealthy family.

  “Those little children, as you call them, have worse mouths than me,” Rhett mutters, completely annoyed but ultra-cute with it, especially with his newly sunburned nose. “Have you heard Addie lately? She curses worse than I ever did.”

  He’s totally joking. Addie never curses. “She’s a polite young lady,” I tell him primly, my laughter immediately escaping me because it’s pointless to pretend. “Fine, you’re right. She curses like a sailor.”

  “You know a bunch of sailors, babe?” He lifts his brows, teasing me. It’s been like this for the past six months. Easy. Lots of teasing. Lots of laughter. Lots of sex.

  Lots of love.

  We’re here in celebration of Rhett graduating college, and I’m so proud of him, though I wish I still didn’t have another three years until I can graduate. As a graduation gift, his father offered us an all-expenses paid vacation to Hawaii, but with one catch—we had to take Addie and Trent with us.

  Not a hardship. We gladly got them out of California so Diane could come to the house and finally move all her stuff out. Parker kept his word and filed for divorce before the year was through. They’ve bickered, they’ve gone back and forth, Diane even trying to convince him to take her back at one point, but in the end, the divorce happened much quicker than any of us expected, and the final papers were signed the day we flew out for Maui.

  And now, finally, Diane had hired a moving company to come collect her things. Parker said he was going to let her take what he wanted, but he was wise enough to get Rhett and Addie out of there so it wouldn’t turn into a total disaster.

  The rumor going around is that since they separated, Diane has been living with good ol’ Uncle Craig. None of us know if this is true or not. No one has spoken to Craig for months.

  But I wouldn’t put it past her.

  Parker cut Park loose and let him start his own business. Their relationship isn’t the best, but Rhett has faith they can still make this work. They all feel snowed by Diane, and Park is even in counseling. I hope it helps him.

  Addie seems to be thriving without Diane in the house. Parker is working less, so he’s able to spend more time with his daughter. She only has one more year in high school and then she’s off to college, so he wants to enjoy her while she still lives under his roof.

  Parker isn’t a bad guy. He’s just made some bad choices, which I can totally relate. He’s trying to rectify that now, and I can’t help but admire him.

  And then there’s me and Rhett.

  I glance over at him stretched out on the lounger, wearing a pair of blue Hawaiian print board shorts and nothing else, his tan skin turning a faint shade of red. They kept warning me the Hawaiian sun is intense and I should be using plenty of sunscreen, but it looks like Rhett isn’t taking his own advice.

  “Hey.” I nudge him in the side with my index finger, making his eyes crack open. “You need more sunscreen.”

  He lifts up his sunglasses, squinting at me. “You gonna rub it on me?”

  Yikes. He sounds and looks like a perv right now. But he’s my perv, so I don’t mind. “Oh yeah, I’ll rub it on you.”

  I grab the spray bottle of sunscreen out of my bag and stand, walking over to him so I can start spraying. But before I even hit the button he’s on his feet, knocking the sunscreen to the ground. His hand locked around my arm, he drags me toward the pool.

  “Rhett, no!” I yell just as he pulls me into the water. We fall straight to the bottom, his arm snaking around my waist, holding me close as we slowly float back to the surface. When our heads break water, he’s grinning at me, the water running down his face, and I sort of want to punch him.

  Or kiss him.

  “Why’d you do that?” I splash water at him and he splashes back.

  “You’re being a nag,” he teases. “‘Don’t curse, Rhett. You need sunscreen, Rhett’.”

  “You’re an ass.” I try to dunk him, but he’s stronger than me, so that proves impossible. Instead he dunks me, sending me under, and I punch his shoulder once I break the surface yet again. “Ugh, I hate you.”

  “You do not.” He scoops me up into his arms, both of us treading water as we stare at each other. “You love me.”

  “You’re right. I love you.” I kiss him to prove it.

  “Hmm.” He hums by my ear, holding me close, his hand wandering down to the flimsy waistband of my bikini. “This swimsuit is indecent.”

  “You should know since you helped me pick it out.” I wrap my arms around his neck, smiling up at him.

  “I was crazy. I should’ve never let you get it.”

  “No one else sees me in it. Just you,” I reassure him.

  He rests his big hands on my bottom, giving me a squeeze. “Me and Trent. Every time that kid spots you, his eyes bug out of his head like a goddamn cartoon character.”

  “Please. He’s only got eyes for Addie.” I lean in and kiss him. Once. Twice. Three times. “And I only have eyes for you.”

  “Good,” he murmurs, trying to take the kiss deeper, but I won’t let him. He growls in frustration. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  I raise my brows, surprised, yet I know I shouldn’t be. “Are you serious? Again? Really?”

  “Yeah, really. It’s already been a few hours.”

  Since we’ve come to Maui, we’ve been fucking like crazy. “More like it’s only been an hour.”

  “Oh. Really? Well, damn. Guess I better learn some self-control then,” he says with a smile.

  “Please don’t,” I say as I try to climb up on him. I only manage to wrap my legs around his waist. “I like you like this.”

  “I like you like this too, especially in the skimpy bikini.” He slips his hands beneath my bikini bottoms, touching me between my thighs. “Aw, babe. This is ridiculous. Why do
you keep denying yourself? And me?”

  “Oh, fine. Let’s go upstairs.” I make an irritated noise, like this is such a hardship, but I’m putting on the best performance of my life. Because nothing with Rhett is a hardship.

  Not one damn thing.

  Read other books by Monica Murphy

  Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is a traditionally published author with Bantam/Random House and Harper Collins/Avon, as well as an independently published author. She writes new adult, young adult and contemporary romance. She is also USA Today bestselling romance author Karen Erickson.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet, without the publisher’s permission and is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonme

  Damaged Hearts

  Copyright 2018 by Monica Murphy

  This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America

  First electronic publication: May 2018 by Monica Murphy.

  www.monicamurphyauthor.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the original vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

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