Controlling Circumstances

  CONTROLLING

  CIRCUMSTANCES

  JEAN KELSO

  Booktrope Editions

  Seattle, WA 2016

  COPYRIGHT 2015, 2016 AUTHOR

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: info@booktrope.com

  Cover Design by Chelsea Barnes

  Edited by Candice Barnes

  Previously self-published 2015

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN 978-1-5137-0845-4

  EPUB ISBN 978-1-5137-0946-8

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016901174

  CONTENTS

  COVER

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  PROLOGUE Belle

  CHAPTER 1 Belle

  CHAPTER 2 Belle

  CHAPTER 3 Belle

  CHAPTER 4 Belle

  CHAPTER 5 Belle

  CHAPTER 6 Belle

  Gabe

  CHAPTER 7 Belle

  CHAPTER 8 Belle

  Gabe

  CHAPTER 9 Belle

  CHAPTER 10 Belle

  CHAPTER 11 Belle

  CHAPTER 12 Belle

  Gabe

  Belle

  CHAPTER 13 Belle

  CHAPTER 14 Belle

  CHAPTER 15 Belle

  Gabe

  CHAPTER 16 Belle

  CHAPTER 17 Belle

  CHAPTER 18 Belle

  CHAPTER 19 Gabe

  Belle

  CHAPTER 20 Belle

  CHAPTER 21 Belle

  CHAPTER 22 Belle

  CHAPTER 23 Belle

  Gabe

  CHAPTER 24 Belle

  CHAPTER 25 Belle

  EPILOGUE Belle

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  MORE GREAT READS FROM BOOKTROPE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Wow, where to start. For starters I want to say I hope you all enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. These characters mean a lot to me, some of you may recognize pieces of someone in the characters *wink wink*

  I want to start by thanking you, my readers. Without you there would be no one to read my stories. So thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this book.

  Thank you to my family and friends for always being by my side. I love you.

  To my original beta team, you are amazing. Melissa, Shannon, Elizabeth, Tracey and Jessica. Your support and input means so much to me. I thank you for being by my side through the journey. To my new members who took the time to read through for the revised version, Amy, Pami, Jeannie and Rachael, thank you for taking the time to help out. I look forward to working with you on future projects.

  To Casey Harvell. You are da bomb girl. Your business Fancy Pants Formatting is amazing! This girl rocked my original edits and my formatting. She helped me with so much, love you girl!

  To Rachel Olsen at No Sweat Graphics. You rock my friend. Thank you so much for my original awesome cover.

  Thank you Chelsea, Candice, and Brandi. My amazing Booktrope team. You ladies rock.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you! If I missed anyone. I apologize. I am not good at these. Now please read on, and remember to leave review.

  PROLOGUE

  Belle

  I SIT IN A PLUSH LEATHER CHAIR across from my doctor’s desk where he sits with my test results. It’s been a grueling time with test after test and pain pill after pain pill to ease the symptoms. Now I just need to get the answers. I look my doctor in the eye for those answers.

  Taking a deep breath I speak bluntly. “Give it to me straight, doctor. You know that I understand the medical stuff, so don’t mess around.”

  The doctor looks up from the folder on his desk with a grim expression on his face. “Belle, do you have anyone you want to call? Someone you want here for support?”

  I bite my lip in uncertainty. With him questioning me, I know this isn’t good. My doctor’s really good, he knows what he’s doing, but the man sucks at giving bad news. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath.

  I reach across the desk and grab the folder. “No sir. There’s no one, just me.”

  The doctor tries to stop me, but he isn’t fast enough. I pull the folder in front of me and look down. It’s here in black and white. It’s plain as day. My jaw drops and I feel like I’m going to pass out. The last sound I hear before I do is the doctor calling my name.

  CHAPTER 1

  Belle

  TODAY IS FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH and surprise! Today’s my birthday. I’m thirty years old. The big three-zero. It’s supposed to be a happy day—you know, birthdays—and so far it isn’t going so well. I’m not superstitious or anything, but to find out the news I never expected to hear in my lifetime on such a day…well, it makes a woman think twice. So yeah, Happy birthday to me! Isabelle Jones, that’s me, but everyone calls me Belle for short.

  I see cancer patients every day and they’re usually older. I don’t mean to stereotype—I know they can be young, too—but I never expected it to be me. I can barely wrap it around my well-educated brain that I’m thirty years old, still single, and now this. Well, I suppose I did put my career before men. Men weren’t an important aspect of my life the past few years, especially after Mike—the man that ruined me in several ways. He took so much from me. He’s the reason I’ve been so sealed off and afraid to live my life…to open up to anyone and be free again. To love myself for who I am or who I was. Eight years. The time sure has flown by, but no matter how much time has come to pass, the nightmares never end. Night after night, I can’t escape them.

  It’s eleven thirty in the morning by the time I leave my doctor's building. I’m going to meet my best friend Mel for lunch to tell her my results. She’s been so worried about me. We’ve been friends for eight years now. Meeting at university, both of us were taking the nursing course and have been inseparable ever since. It’s like we’re sisters or something. She’s the only person I’ve ever felt a connection to and could open up to, to tell my secrets. Mel had been there for me that unforgettable night and has never left my side.

  “Well?” Mel reaches across the table and grabs my hand, staring at me openly, waiting.

  I look straight into her bright hazel eyes, trying my hardest not to shed a tear, but one slowly leaks out and glides down my cheek. Quickly wiping it away, “It’s cancer, Mel.” I pause. “They found cancer on my right ovary. It hasn’t spread anywhere. At least that’s what the doctor said he’s sure of.” That’s when the waterworks start. Tears begin to stream down my pale cheeks, unable to control them.

  Tears start to trickle down Mel’s face. She gets out of her chair and comes around the table to me before pulling me into a big hug. For a few minutes we just cry together. Everyone in the diner is staring, but that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with two grown women crying together in public.

  “We can beat this, you know.” Mel sniffles in my ear then pulls back and looks at me. “What all did the doctor say? What do we do now?” she asks while she wipes at her nose with a napkin.

  That�
��s my Mel—the git er done girl. We talk for almost an hour as our tears turn to slight sobs then to gentle whispers between friends. We munch on some appetizers as I’ve lost my appetite to eat a full meal at this point. Mel now knows it all. The fact that the doctor said they had found the cancer early and should be able to get rid of it all, putting the cancer into remission. I still need to speak with an oncologist to discuss my choices of treatment to understand it all. It’s not like I don’t understand—I’m a nurse after all. I did take four years of university and received a degree. I do know a few things about the disease, but when it comes to your own health, you often freak out a little more than usual.

  After our lengthy discussion, I feel a bit better. I little calmer, but still freaked out. I agree to meet Mel at the bar later as planned. She and some of our coworkers had planned a little gathering for my birthday, and I don’t want to disappoint them no matter how upset I feel. Perhaps a distraction is just what I need.

  I’ve done my best to push my news aside in my mind, now it’s time to make myself feel better and go have fun for a night. I just have to find something to wear. I don’t go out often, so my clothing selection is limited for the nightlife. Especially nightlife with Mel.

  It’s not like I’m your typical skinny girl or even your average sized girl. I’m a plus size woman, unfortunately. It’s not that I haven’t tried to lose the weight. I’ve done all the diets, all the silly, stereotypical fads. I even did the whole exercise thing, including yoga, but nothing helped. My body’s determined to stay shaped the way it is. I never used to be on the plus side. I was your average sized girl at one point in my life. I was also a virgin once, but that was stolen from me. Since then my body has had a mind of its own. I live and deal with what I have and try to be happy, but if someone asked me to define happy, I don’t think I could do it anymore.

  In my closet I find a just-above-the-knee jet-black suede skirt, a burgundy, v-neck tight tank top, and my old thigh highs—what Mel calls “hooker boots.”

  I shower, straighten my just-below-the-shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, slip on some basic black matching lingerie and my outfit. I do my makeup to the best of my ability, making my eyes stand out the best I can with that smoky effect. I feel they are my best feature—being emerald green, it’s best to make them stand out.

  It’s nine p.m. when I enter the large, modernized bar. Giant, multicolored lava lamps just inside the doors are lit up. Your typical “hot chick” coat check area is set up by the entrance, and the black marble tiled floors stand out in contrast to the flashy lights. A giant dance floor sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by several dark wooden tables and chairs. The bar isn’t famous, but is always busy according to Mel.

  It’s early August, in which case I don’t need a jacket. All I brought with me was a little black clutch to carry my wallet, cellphone and apartment keys. I take a deep breath and advance into the bar in search of Mel and my friends. I notice them over in the far corner. It’s like Mel and I can read minds—she looks up at the same time I notice her. The look on her face—the look of surprise—makes me stop in my tracks.

  I quickly check myself over. Just enough cleavage, check. Nothing on my shirt or skirt, check. Nothing dragging from my boots, check. So what is her problem?

  I continue toward them with a weary look when Mel approaches.

  “You look amazing,” she says to me

  I breathe out the breath I don’t realize I’m holding. “You had me scared there for a moment. I thought something was wrong.”

  Mel smiles, “No, I just haven’t seen you dress like this in so long. It’s refreshing to see you, the old you, again.”

  I look down at my feet and feel the heat rising to my face. I know I blush a little as I look back up at her. “It’s like you said to me earlier—we are going to beat this. So when you said we, I felt why not get all of me out to fight.” I smile at her—the biggest smile I can manage to give and feel braver than I did moments ago. There’s something about Mel that always brings the positive side of me out. I think it’s her being such a positive person. She never lets anyone feel down on themselves. Being around Mel right now is what I need…and some alcohol wouldn’t hurt either.

  “You look great, too,” I tell her, looking her up and down.

  Mel has the body of a goddess. She’s tall, thin and has great boobs. Her tanned and toned body blends well with her outfit tonight—just like it does every night and day. She has on a pair of tight blue skinny jeans, a hot pink halter top and her famous black with diamond studded cowboy boots. Her jet-black hair is wavy and pinned up on one side. Mel looks like the hottest cowgirl in town. We are complete opposites when it comes to clothing, but blend well. I can even smell the signature cranberry body spray she loves to wear. She’s like me—not a big perfume person, but a body spray? Hell, yes!

  I pull out a chair at the table and sit with the group of co-workers who are already deep into conversation, laughing and joking as if they have been friends their whole life.

  It’s later in the evening and I’m having a great time. The drinks are endless, the laughs are flowing and it’s time for the music to start. The crowd’s much larger than when we first arrived here—with not much space to move around. It’s your typical dance bar for a Friday night.

  I feel a tap on my shoulder and look over at Mel. “You see that good-looking bartender over there, he has been watching you all night,” she says as she glances over to the bar with a smirk.

  She must know who he is. Mel comes to this place often enough. She knows everyone that works here, probably. Mel’s always talking about this place and the hot men that tended the bar. I’m sure she knows why he’s looking, but she’s not going to say anything to me about it. Mel’s always trying to set me up, but I play along as usual. It isn’t hard to do anyways—the alcohol’s helping me relax and feel good.

  “What?” I giggle.

  I slowly turn my head toward the bar. At that moment I stare into the deepest, darkest blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. Butterflies turn in my stomach. I’m frozen in place and time—hypnotized by those eyes. I just can’t look away. I’m unaware of the rest of my surroundings at that moment. It’s as if everything else has melted away, with only him and I alone in the room. My heart rate increases and my breathing changes. How did this one man cause such a spark in me with only his eyes?”

  CHAPTER 2

  Belle

  THE MOMENT IS SHATTERED. His attention is now taken by patrons at the bar shouting for drinks. The other bartenders snap their fingers in his direction and it doesn’t help. Reality returns to me, the music, the smell of alcohol, the people, everything.

  “Belle, you okay, hun?” I hear Mel ask. I turn myself back to the group, flush and sigh.

  “OMG I feel great! Let’s dance.” Grabbing Mel’s hand, I rush us out to the dance floor. Between my hormones from the instant lust I was feeling and the alcohol, the sky is the limit.

  The music pumps and the beats are amazing, feelings them vibrate through me. Losing myself as my body moves with the music. I feel alive, I feel sexy—even if it’s for only a moment, for this one night. I wish this night would never end because I feel free. There’s no hurt, no pain, no history, my mind’s blank and I love it.

  After what seemed like staring into the soul of that gorgeous man, I feel like a new woman. I don’t want to waste the precious time I have with that feeling. The possibilities seem endless.

  “Wow, Belle, you’re full of energy tonight. What’s gotten into you?” Mel shouts against the music as we grind to the beat. “I need a break. I need to get a drink and relax now.” She smiles and begins to leave the dance floor.

  “Get me a drink? I’m going to freshen up and meet you at the table.” I head toward the restroom. I bounce and bob my head to music along the way, feeling great.

  Feeling refreshed, I leave the bathroom. I am about to turn toward the dance floor when I feel someone grab my wrist. Instantly, I�
�m on alert. Who would grab me in the middle of a bar?

  I quickly think as they pull me into a dark corner and push me up against a wall. I let out a quick yelp as my pulse quickens, and suddenly feel an odd tingling sensation from the person’s touch. Fear? I don’t know. That’s until I look up into those deep dark eyes I was staring into earlier this evening. I feel my heart stop for a moment, forgetting to breathe, fear all but forgotten. The tingling sensation zings to my core and causes me to want to squeeze my thighs together. What the hell’s going on? I’m becoming unhinged.

  I stare back into those eyes and try to speak, but stammering is what I get. “Wh… wh…” I just can’t get the words out. Next thing I know, I feel warm, moist lips on mine, searching, invading my mouth. His tongue licks my lips and he tries to conquer my sealed mouth. His teeth nip at my bottom lip while his lips press on. It’s as if he’s asking for something, but do I want it?

  I’m feeling rather buzzed from all the alcohol I’ve consumed. My mind’s weak and I have no control over my hormones. Stupid hormones, they seem to be in overdrive right now. His lips feel so good on mine—So soft, warm and welcoming. His tongue—oh, his tongue—moist, reaching for mine and teasing. A heat starts to bubble deep in my loins. It’s something I’ve never felt before. What’s this man doing to me?

  I surrender and open for him. Immediately, it’s all tongue action. Then I feel a passion that I’ve only dreamed about and have never felt safe enough to open to. I feel his hand that was on my wrist begin to wander up and down my arm. He caresses me and the tingling sensation is indescribable. His other hand grabs my hip and he pulls me closer to him until we grind our pelvises together. I can feel his erection press against my pelvic bone, then against my core…my suddenly aching core. OMG I think I am going to explode. This feels so incredible, a feeling of such…of such…euphoria. He takes both my hands and raises them up above my head and holds them there while our mouths continue to explore. Its then my mind decides to take a detour, a sudden flashback moment, and I tense.