Sundered Hearts Read online

  Sundered Hearts

  By Anna J. McIntyre

  SUNDERED HEARTS

  Susan Thomas thought she had it all—a home, a husband she loved, and children in her future—until everything came crashing down one rainy afternoon, exposing her perfect world as a lie.

  Determined to move on with her life, Susan recklessly drags Brandon Carpenter from the bar and into her bed. When she doesn’t see him again, Susan fears she is repeating her same old mistakes.

  Seeking refuge at Shipley Mountain, the last person Susan expects to run into is Brandon. He has his own reasons for being on the mountain. Brandon and Susan must put aside their misunderstandings. A child’s life is at stake.

  Books by Anna J. McIntyre

  SENSUAL ROMANCE SERIES

  Sundered Hearts

  After Sundown

  While Snowbound

  Sugar Rush

  THE COULSON SERIES

  Coulson’s Wife

  Coulson’s Crucible

  Coulson’s Lessons

  Coulson’s Secret

  Coulson’s Reckoning

  Anna J. McIntyre’s Website

  SUNDERED HEARTS

  By Anna J. McIntyre

  Cover Design: Elizabeth Mackey

  Editor: Suzie O'Connell

  SENSUAL ROMANCE SERIES

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Robeth Publishing, LLC

  Copyright © 2014 Anna J. McIntyre, B. Holmes

  Robeth Publishing, LLC, All Rights Reserved

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  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 book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  To Lynn,

  Just like Brandon was there for Kit, you’ve always been there for me.

  Table of Contents

  Books by Anna J. McIntyre

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Lexi Beaumont

  Ella Lewis

  Kit Landon

  Chapter One

  I’ll think this is funny in a few weeks, Susan Thomas told herself as she left the shelter of her stalled vehicle and began plodding down the muddy dirt road in the midst of a rainstorm. She would discover—in less than an hour—how wrong she was. By the time the year ended, Susan would look back on this day as one of the worst in her entire twenty-six years.

  When she got up that morning, there was nothing to indicate this day would be any different from previous days that week. She’d had coffee with her husband Sam and managed to eat a bowl of cereal and a slice of toast before racing off to work at the Ben Franklin Elementary School’s attendance office. There hadn’t even been any rain clouds in the sky when she’d left that morning.

  Her first two hours at work had been fairly typical. Since she worked indoors, she hadn’t realized threatening storm clouds had turned the sky gray. It wasn’t until Johnny Peters had come walking in the office doorway shortly before lunch that things had started to go wrong. He had looked a little green, but she’d had no idea the second grader was about to projectile vomit in her direction and soak her brand-new silk blouse.

  There would be no saving the garment, and since the board of education frowned upon their employees working in just a bra and skirt, she had decided it best if she go home and change clothes. Unfortunately, she hadn’t brought a jacket to work that day since it had been clear and sunny when she’d left home that morning. This meant she had been forced to rinse the silk blouse in the bathroom sink and wear the wet and stinky garment home.

  It had started to rain the minute she pulled out of the school parking lot. Initially, the downpour hadn’t concerned her; after all, she was snug and dry in her warm car. But then she’d taken a detour due to an accident up ahead on her regular route. There was no other traffic along that stretch of road—just the emergency responders attending to the accident.

  For a moment, she had considered waiting—since the detour would take her over a dirt road—but the stench of her blouse made her want to heave, and she’d seen all the vomit that day that she could handle. Against the urgings of that still silent voice suggesting she wait it out, Susan had turned down the dirt road.

  She had soon discovered the rain was quickly turning the dirt road to mud. But it was the dog appearing out of nowhere that had caused Susan to jerk the steering wheel to one side, landing her in a ditch. There was no way of getting out of the ditch without a tow truck, so she had turned off her engine and grabbed her purse.

  Her husband Sam would be at his office. There was no way he was showing property in this weather. She’d give him a call, and he could come pick her up. The moment she opened her purse, she remembered. She had plugged her cellphone into the charger when she’d got to work that morning, and it was still sitting on the shelf behind her desk—plugged into the wall. Hoping she was wrong, Susan dumped the contents of her purse onto the passenger seat. No cellphone.

  Cursing, she shoved the items back into her purse and did the only thing she could do: walk home in the midst of a rainstorm—without a jacket or umbrella.

  Walking along the muddy road wearing heels proved challenging. Wobbling with each step, her long dark hair now drenched, she wished someone would drive by and give her a lift—yet part of her was relieved there was no car in sight.

  By the time she reached her street, all she could think of was stripping off her clothes as she walked into her house before racing upstairs to jump in the shower. At this point, she didn’t even care if one of the neighbors witnessed her striptease.

  She hadn’t expected to see Sam’s car in the driveway. But it didn’t particularly surprise her. He was a real estate agent, and days like this he could work from home using his laptop. In that moment, Susan decided the day’s story would have a happy ending. Together, she and Sam could ditch work, pop popcorn, and watch old movies in the den while snuggling by the fireplace.

  Giggling, she raced to the side kitchen door. She didn’t want to muddy up the front entry. Deciding to surprise her husband, Susan tried to be quiet while unlocking the kitchen door. Tip-toeing into the house, she closed the door behind her. Ducking into the laundry room off the kitchen, she slipped off the wet clothes. Unfortunately, there weren’t any dry towels in the laundry room.

  Shivering and nude, she raced from the kitchen and peeked into the living room and den. No Sam. Guessing he was upstairs, she moved quietly up the stairway, using all her willpower to suppress her giggles.

  When she got to the second floor, she heard Sam’s voice. He must be on the phone, she thought. But then she heard it—a second voice.

  “Sam, I
love it when you do that!”

  “Do you, baby?”

  Feminine giggles.

  “Oh, stop, Sam, you’re too much!” More giggles.

  “I’ll show you too much, baby. Now bend over and let Sam the Man take you for a rough ride.”

  Dazed, unable to comprehend what she was hearing, Susan walked toward the voices. Seconds later—completely nude, her hair drenched—she stood at the doorway to her bedroom. There before her, not six feet away, was her husband preparing to mount from behind a willing and enthusiastic nude woman whom Susan had never seen before.

  While Susan did not recognize her husband’s lover, she immediately noticed the stark differences between the interloper’s body and her own. Although it was impossible to guess the other woman’s height, considering the stranger was on her hands and knees, she was obviously much taller than Susan, who stood just five-feet-four-inches tall. Petite Susan, whose trim and fit body—which boasted small but perky breasts that barely filled a B-cup—looked almost childlike compared to this rubenesque woman, whose enormous, full breasts swayed provocatively below the ample body.

  The sexual romp came to an abrupt halt when the nude couple on the bed realized they were no longer alone. If the scene had been a movie, the audience would assume something had gone awry in the projection room, because Susan, Sam, and the mystery woman held their places for what seemed like eternity. The only noticeable movement was Sam’s erection, which vanished.

  As if on cue, they all moved. Sam jumped from the bed and grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them on, not stopping first to put on his briefs. The woman on the bed clutched the sheet to cover herself while glancing frantically around the room trying to figure out where she’d dropped her clothes.

  Of the three, Susan was the only one not trying to hide her nudity. Instead, she reached for the first thing she could find—a music box—and hurled it at Sam’s head. He ducked and avoided the missile yet wasn’t fast enough to dodge the book she threw his way.

  Scrambling from the bed, the mystery woman snatched her clothes off the floor and dashed from the room, grateful Susan was focusing her rage at Sam and not at her. Neither Sam nor Susan seemed to notice that their guest was making a hasty departure.

  Sam weaved and bobbed around the bedroom, trying to avoid his wife’s rage as she hurled one object after another in his direction. Some made contact; others fell short of their target.

  “Damn it, Susan, stop! Are you planning to break everything we own?”

  “There is no we!” She threw one more object, a small figurine that he had given her on their first Valentine’s Day. It flew past his head, hit the wall, and shattered into tiny pieces.

  Susan dropped to the floor, wrapped her arms around her nude body and broke into sobs. Closing her eyes tightly, her head bent to the floor, she just wanted to disappear. She wanted to be anywhere but in the bedroom she shared with her cheating husband, the man to whom she had entrusted her heart.

  “Ahh, Susan, I’m sorry, baby,” Sam muttered.

  “Don’t call me baby,” she managed to say between sobs. He called her baby—the whore he’d just been screwing, she thought.

  “It just hasn’t been working for us.”

  His words were not what she expected to hear. She expected to hear, I can explain or it’s not what you think.

  Sniffling, she wiped her face with the back of her hand and looked up at Sam.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “It’s over, Susan. I want a divorce.”

  Stunned, Susan stared in disbelief at her husband of almost five years. A divorce?

  “I’m sorry you found out this way. But maybe it’s for the best.”

  For the best?

  “I don’t understand?” Susan asked, still dazed.

  “I’m in love with Loretta.”

  “Loretta… the naked woman who just ran out of our bedroom?”

  “Well, you can’t really blame her for running like that. You were acting like a lunatic.”

  “I was acting like a lunatic?” she squealed in a high pitch voice.

  “Pretty much. Look what you did to this room.”

  Susan glanced around the bedroom. It looked like a battle ground. Their personal items littered the floor. Many were broken.

  “What are you doing home, by the way? And where are your clothes?”

  Susan stared at her cheating husband. She could not believe what he had just asked her. One minute he announces he wants a divorce and in the next asks her why she is home in a tone that implies she had done something wrong.

  Glaring at Sam, Susan got to her feet and marched into the master bathroom off their bedroom, slamming the door behind her before locking it. She turned on the shower, and when the water was sufficiently warm, she climbed in, allowing it to drench her as had the rain less than an hour earlier.

  When Susan got out of the shower fifteen minutes later, she toweled off before grabbing her terrycloth robe from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. After slipping on the robe and wrapping a dry towel around her freshly shampooed hair, she stepped out of the bathroom.

  Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed. While she had been in the shower, he had picked the items off the floor, but instead of putting them back where they belonged, he tossed the unbroken ones on the bed and the broken pieces in the trashcan beside the small desk in their bedroom.

  “How long, Sam?”

  “Since July.”

  “You’ve been seeing her since July? That’s ten months!” Susan couldn’t believe it. In July they’d celebrated their fourth anniversary and had gone away for a romantic weekend. They’d even discussed the possibility of starting a family.

  “I’m sorry, Susan. I never intended to fall in love with her. I just thought it would be a harmless fling.”

  “Harmless fling?” She wanted to start throwing things again. Instead she asked, “Who is she?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I think I have the right to know.”

  “I met her through work.”

  “She’s another real estate agent?”

  “No, she’s a title officer. But I don’t see where any of that matters.” They were silent for a moment. Then he said, “I think you should move out.”

  “What? You expect me to move out?”

  “Well, it is my house,” Sam told her.

  “Your house? I thought it was our house.”

  “I bought this house before we were married.”

  “You bought this house when we were engaged. We picked it out together.” We fixed it up together.

  “Yes, we were engaged at the time. But I paid for it with the money I inherited from my grandparents. I’m not trying to be an asshole, Susan, but under community property, the house clearly belongs to me. Not only did I buy it before we were married, I paid for it with money I inherited. But we don’t have to talk about this right now. We can discuss this later when you’re more rational. I’ll stay in the guest room until you find someplace to stay.” Sam turned and left the room, leaving Susan standing alone in the bedroom.

  Chapter Two

  “To your divorce!” Linda raised her wine glass in salute to Susan. The four young women—Linda, Susan, Joyce, and Debbie—sat together at the small round table at the edge of the bar. It was Friday night happy hour at the popular dinner house. The four had been friends since high school.

  Less than enthusiastic, Susan half-heartedly raised her glass and gave a little shrug.

  “So it’s final, then?” Debbie asked. Until Susan’s divorce, Debbie had been the only unmarried member of the group.

  “It was official on Monday,” Susan answered. She set her half-filled wineglass back on the table. It had been almost six months since that fateful day when she had walked in on her cheating husband. Cheating ex-husband, she silently reminded herself.

  “When does the house close escrow?” Debbie asked.

  “Next week,” Susan told her. “Sam
was pretty pissed the court sided with me and used another real estate agent to list it. He still wasn’t over the fact it belonged to both of us despite his original contention.” Susan chuckled and took a sip of wine.

  “I never figured out why he thought it was his in the first place,” Joyce commented.

  “Because,” Linda explained, “he bought it before they were married with funds from money he inherited. Even if they were married and he inherited money and used it to buy a house, it would be his and not Susan’s.”

  “Then I don’t get it.” Joyce frowned. “I thought Susan gets half the money from the sale.”

  “Ahh, but here’s the catch,” Linda explained with a chuckle. “There was that pesky commingling of funds!” Linda laughed. Joyce looked confused.

  “Joyce,” Susan explained, “remember, after Sam and I were married, he lost his job and went to real estate school? I was the only one working and paying all the expenses on the house—property tax, insurance, upkeep. Under the law, the house became community property because we spent money I earned on it, which is commingling of funds. Not to mention the fact I helped refurbish the house.”

  “Oh.” Joyce smiled brightly. “So what’re you going to do with your share of the money?’

  “Put it in savings for now. If Sam hadn’t been such a jerk about everything and the marriage had ended differently, I’d feel a little funny taking half of the money. It was paid for with his inheritance from his grandparents.”

  “Well, Sam was a jerk,” Linda told her. “Plus, I remember what that house looked like when you guys bought it.”

  Susan failed to mention that her half wasn’t near as much as her friends might imagine. Before proceeds from the house could be divided, there were debts to be paid. Since finding Sam in bed with a strange woman, she’d discovered he’d also run up enormous debts on all their joint credit cards. It was too embarrassing to admit she’d allowed her husband to handle all the household expenses and had never once considered reviewing the accounts. Foolishly, she had trusted Sam with both her heart and her finances.