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Spring Fling Trio- Beyond Love Starter Set

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by Karice Bolton




  BEYOND CONTROL

  (Beyond Love Series #1)

  KARICE BOLTON

  Copyright © 2013 Karice Bolton

  ISBN-10:0-9899317-1-4

  ISBN-13:978-0-9899317-1-7

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any printed or electronic form, or stored in an unauthorized retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, incidents, and events either are the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Interior Artwork DepositPhotos © TAlexey

  Cover Art: AdobeStockPhotos © kiuikson © benjaminlion

  Contact the Author

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  To contact the author, please visit her online at www.karicebolton.com or via

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  You can also text KariceBooks to 313131 to receive a text from her on release days!

  BOOKS BY KARICE BOLTON

  ISLAND COUNTY SERIES

  FINDING LOVE IN FORGOTTEN COVE

  LOVE REDONE IN HIDDEN HARBOR

  TANGLED LOVE ON PELICAN POINT

  FOREVER LOVE ON FIREWEED ISLAND

  TEMPTING LOVE ON HOLLY LANE

  CHANCE AT LOVE ON MYSTIC BAY

  IRRESISTIBLE LOVE AT SILVER FALLS

  LUCKY IN LOVE ON HOUND ISLAND

  MISTLETOE MISCHIEF

  ACCIDENTAL LOVE ON MEADOW COVE LANE

  BEYOND LOVE SERIES

  BEYOND CONTROL

  BEYOND DOUBT

  BEYOND REASON

  BEYOND INTENT

  BEYOND CHANCE

  BEYOND PROMISE

  BEYOND the MISTLETOE

  SILVER RIDGE SERIES

  A HAPPY TRUTH ABOUT LOVE

  A LITTLE SECRET ABOUT LOVE

  A FUNNY THING ABOUT LOVE

  A SURPRISING FACT ABOUT LOVE

  LUKE FLETCHER SERIES

  HIDDEN SINS

  BURIED SINS

  REDEMPTION

  MIA

  V MAFIA SERIES

  BLAKE

  DEVIN

  JAXSON

  THE WITCH AVENUE SERIES

  LONELY SOULS

  ALTERED SOULS

  RELEASED SOULS

  SHATTERED SOULS

  THE WATCHERS TRILOGY

  AWAKENING

  LEGIONS

  CATACLYSM

  TAKEN NOVELLA (A Watchers Preq uel)

  AFTERWORLD SERIES

  RecruitZ

  AlibiZ

  UprisingZ

  Dedication and Note to Readers

  To my incredible husband and mom! Thank you for everything.

  And thank you to the readers of the Beyond Love Series. I’m so grateful to every single one of you for allowing Gabby, Brandy, and Lily a place on your bookshelf (digital or otherwise). Now that the series is complete, it has been so much fun getting to hear from readers as they watched the characters grow and their lives change in such big ways. A huge thanks for all your kind messages over the years regarding this series. The characters hold a special spot in my heart, which is why I’m thrilled they’re still popping up now and again in the Island County Series.

  For those new to the series, I hope you enjoy reading about Gabby, Lily, and Brandy as much as I loved writing about them.

  Chapter One

  Winter

  Bainbridge Island

  The room was silent except for the low hum of my mom’s stereo. Music was important to her, and she wanted to ensure that “melodies carried her out of this world” when the time was right. For months I didn’t understand what she meant. But as I watched her lying on the bed, her frail body barely able to bring itself to breathe, I fully understood. Pillows propped her head up and colorful comforters surrounded her, but the tiny outline of my mom’s body was visible purely because it was so small in contrast to what encircled her. Her skin was a curious shade of orange from all the cancer drugs that had pumped through her. She used to joke about her spray tan “gone bad”, but she no longer could muster the strength. That mom was gone.

  The taupe walls and pine furniture in my mom’s bedroom were etched in my memory. No matter where I was, my mind would forever be able to recall the feel of the wood under my fingertips. I nervously ran my hands along the end tables, day after day, waiting for her to tell me everything was going to be okay. She never did. She wouldn’t ever lie to us.

  My mom refused to let us close her bedroom windows, no matter how cold the room got. After a few weeks, I understood why she wouldn’t allow us to shut the windows. The aroma of wood smoke as it drifted in covered up the medicinal smell that we’d come to ignore. My brother, Aaron, would bring us cup after cup of hot chocolate to keep us warm. That memory—that taste—would never go away either.

  My mom had been through so much, fought for so long, that those memories had replaced most of the others in my short twelve years. If I dug really hard, I could think about different times—happy times, when my mom was disease free. I remember trips to the local aquarium, parks, and arboretums. My brother and I wandered around and amused ourselves, while she took photographs to paint from. For some reason, those memories made me ache more than the recent ones. It reminded me of what I’d missed. What I would be missing.

  My eyes fell on the port in my mom’s chest, the tunnel under her skin that was used endlessly to deliver ineffective drugs when faced with such a disease. When she first got the port inserted, my knees used to threaten to buckle if I glimpsed a piece of it under her clothing. That didn’t happen any longer. In fact, now I was also able to help administer the drugs through the catheter that inserted into the port without the slightest thought.

  I glanced at my brother, Aaron, who was lighting my mom’s favorite seafoam candles, and wondered what we’d do once she was gone. Would we be able to survive? Would we still function like a family? Once my mom became ill, my father wasn’t around much. He buried himself in work and traveled the world rather than stay here with us, with his wife. I wanted to be mad at him, but part of me understood. It was hard being here everyday, watching someone I loved deteriorate, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t angry with him, but maybe I should’ve been.

  Aaron turned around and flicked his wrist to extinguish the flame on the tip of the match, his eyes meeting mine. They were filled with the same sorrow I felt.

  “You okay?” he mouthed from across the room, pressing his hand against his chest.

  I looked at my mom, whose chest scarcely moved, and back at him before I felt the first of many tears glide down my cheeks.

  No. I wasn’t okay, but at least I had him to get me through what was about to come.

  Chapter Two

  Ten Years Later…

  “Knock. Knock,” Brandy hummed, tapping on the door lightly. “You ready?”

  “Not really,” I replied, pointing at the stack of papers piled on my desk. “But I guess that probably doesn’t matter.” I smiled and pushed myself away from the desk.

  “Not when it comes to your father.” She grinned. Brandy stepped into my office, and I gasped when I saw her. She was in the most gorgeous blue dress, and her dark brown hair was piled in loose curls on top of her head. With every movement, her dress shimmered and clung to all the right places, highlighting the beautiful caramel color of her skin.

  “Whoa,” I said,
grinning, suddenly feeling completely underdressed for tonight’s function. I looked down at my silver blouse, black pencil skirt, and red stilettos. I was proud of myself for wearing what I thought was a day-to-evening outfit like I always saw in the style magazines… and then Brandy steps into my office, blowing my wishful thinking to smithereens. It must be wonderful to always be so stunning.

  “Your assistant cleans up nicely, huh?” she teased. Brandy was my best friend, who I’d met in college, and she knew me better than anyone.

  “Your father figured this would happen,” she laughed. “So he sent something over. A courier brought it about an hour ago. I didn’t even peek.”

  “You mean my stepmom knew this would happen,” I laughed.

  “Same difference.”

  I blew the stray hairs out of my face and couldn’t help but smile as I thought about my father. He always took such good care of me, especially since my mother’s death. Actually, that wasn’t completely true. His money always took very good care of me. I only saw him more now because I worked for one of his companies.

  “Okay, let’s see it,” I sighed.

  “Don’t even pretend you don’t want to play dress up.” She left my office and returned in a heartbeat with a garment bag and a Nordstrom sack dangling around the hanger.

  “I honestly didn’t know it was such a big deal,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “That’s what black-tie means, dummy.” Brandy extended the garment bag toward me and gave an exasperated huff.

  I peered nervously through the glass wall that looked over the sea of cubicles. This wasn’t something I wanted the rest of the employees to see. I’d already caught the animosity in the air about the fact that I worked here and didn’t have to start at the bottom. Brandy saw my apprehension and quickly closed the door and shut the automatic blinds.

  “It’s not like I got an invitation. I’m his daughter. I just show up,” I replied, unzipping the garment bag to reveal a beautiful flowing chiffon dress. The fabric was soft lavender with tiny pearls stitched at the waistband, and beautiful lace appliques spreading from the hem up the skirt of the dress.

  “I wanna see,” Brandy whined.

  “It’s amazing and so… me,” I replied, taking the hanger from Brandy so she could take a look.

  I loved Brandy’s dress on her, but it was so not me. Why? Because it was really tiny! One false move and nothing’s left to the imagination, but that was exactly how she liked it. I, on the other hand, built a world that kept ‘em guessing. That was my motto.

  “Suddenly I’m no longer the belle of the ball,” she laughed. “Holy. Shit. Is this Valentino?”

  I shrugged and felt the familiar heat run up my face. My fingers instinctively ran up the scar along my breastbone as I eyed the neckline. There was no hiding it in this dress.

  “Nobody will care what’s being auctioned off tonight. They’ll all want you,” she gushed, noticing where my hand stalled. I could always count on her to make me feel better.

  “Oh, please. This covers me all the way up. You’ll definitely be the one who everyone’s looking at,” I assured her.

  “Doubtful,” she whispered, running her fingertips along the dress. “Let’s get you in this. We’re running late.”

  I laid the garment bag across my desk, careful not to knock any of the papers onto the floor, and worked the dress cautiously out of the bag. Brandy unhooked the shoe bag and opened the box up.

  “Of course, Jimmy Choo,” she said, dangling the lace pumps from her fingertips.

  I glanced at the shoes, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit just how pretty they were. But it was uncomfortable. I’d made it all through college without anyone really knowing about my family’s wealth.

  “You like them? You can have them after tonight,” I replied.

  Brandy looked over at me and smiled, shaking her head. “Nope. They’re yours and I’m not going to accept them. Never have taken your icky hand-me-downs and never will.” She laughed and began unhooking the straps on the Choos.

  I kicked off my heels, stripped out of my blouse and wriggled out of my skirt. So much for my bra in this dress. I unclasped it quickly and tossed it on the floor.

  “Classy,” Brandy said, picking everything up for me. “Oh, I almost missed this,” she said, looking into the Nordstrom bag, pulling out a large jewelry box. “Want me to open it?”

  I nodded as I slipped the dress over my head and felt the soft fabric cascade over my skin.

  “Whoa,” she uttered, opening the box. “This is beautiful.”

  She turned the box toward me, and the knot in my stomach—that I didn’t even realize was there—immediately diminished. So much for being cool and confident when it came to strapless dresses. As I looked in the box, a collared, sterling silver necklace with a large stone pendant was perfectly situated in tissue paper. This would cover up most of my scar…

  “Nice,” I replied, smiling.

  I positioned the front slit over my leg as Brandy zipped me up and centered the necklace around my neck, locking the clasp in place.

  “You look stunning,” she said, stepping back.

  The feeling of security the pendant provided as it dangled in the perfect place, gave me an extra dose of courage for the night. Something very few even knew I needed. I’d done a great job over the years explaining to everyone how well adjusted I’d become. Apparently, I hadn’t fooled my stepmom or Brandy for that matter.

  “Hair okay?” I asked. I had placed it in a loose French knot this morning, and last I looked, it was still holding on.

  “Yep. Let’s get going.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. I snatched my purse out of the chair and followed her to the elevators.

  “There should be plenty of cabs at this time,” I said, as we wound along the far wall of cubicles and waited for the elevator.

  “Umm.” Brandy stepped into the elevator, refusing to look at me.

  “Oh, no. Please tell me we aren’t going in the limo.”

  “Your father sent it over. He texted me,” she replied, trying to hide her smile.

  “That thing is such a spectacle, especially in Seattle. I always feel like I should see my high school date inside as it pulls up. Besides, Seattle thrives on bicycles as the main mode of transportation,” I protested.

  “Sorry,” she squealed. “But it sounds like the beast is going to be picking us up. And besides, can you really see yourself peddling on a bicycle in that outfit? Get real.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled as we stepped into the lobby. Sure enough the black stretch sedan was waiting for us beyond the doors.

  “Let’s just hope we’ve got some hotties waiting for us at the ball,” Brandy said, winking. “Firemen, maybe, or how about some lawyers?”

  “Yeah. Because that’s what always happens for us,” I retorted.

  “Maybe we’ve struck out lately, but I know there’s hope out there for you and me. I mean if we can move past the whole blind date fiasco, it would be better for us all. You don’t have to keep reminding me. It was bad for us both.”

  “Yeah. But you weren’t the one who wound up with Squiggy for an entire night. I was!” I shuddered at the memory.

  “Right. Because my date, Father Time, was a far better choice,” she shot back.

  “We’re screwed, aren’t we?” I laughed.

  “I don’t know. I mean it might not be that bad being roomies forever,” she said, pretending to use a cane.

  “Watching marathons of the Golden Girls is far different than living it.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Even if we find a couple of someones worth talking to, I want to make sure to get home early tonight. I’ve got a lot on my plate tomorrow,” I said, watching Brandy’s expression fall.

  “You certainly are a fuddy-dud for only being twenty-two.”

  “Almost twenty-three,” I corrected. “And I don’t want to let my dad down. He didn’t have to give me this position.”

  She smiled and
pulled me through the revolving, glass doors to reveal a beautiful Seattle night. The cerulean sky held very few clouds, and the warm breeze was a nice change from the air-conditioned office building. The city was lively with taxis honking, commuters running to catch buses and trains, and tourists wandering with maps in hand. Bernie, our driver, greeted us. He’d worked for my dad for as long as I could remember. He was like another father to me, and he could actually pass as my dad’s brother. They looked pretty similar with strong jawlines and soft brown eyes. The only difference was that my father’s dark hair was graying slightly. I reached around Bernie’s neck and gave him a big hug, the pumps making me as tall as him. I released my arms, and he beamed.

  “Well, don’t you two look beautiful,” Bernie said, opening the back door for us. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and tie. My father told him years ago that he could wear whatever he wanted, but Bernie refused to ever veer away from the suits. I don’t think I’d ever seen the man in jeans.

  “Thanks, Bernie,” I chimed, crawling inside the limo as gracefully as possible and plunking in the far seat. Brandy climbed in after me, situating herself in the seat next to me as Bernie closed the door. He made it around to the driver’s door and slid in the sedan, popping the privacy glass up.

  Brandy reached for the bottle of champagne and gave me a huge smile.

  “You know, Gabby, this is way better than a taxi,” she laughed, as she popped the cork. “No matter how you cut it.”

  “It’s better with my best friend in here, no doubt,” I said laughing, while I steadied my glass for her to pour in some of the pink bubbly.

  “Agreed.” She poured some of the pink liquid into her glass and took a taste.

 

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