Windy City Romance: Boxed Set: Prequel - Book III

by Barbara Lohr

  As he dabbed the sauce on his eggs, Logan launched into a complicated explanation of the various sauces available and which one was best on eggs. The information was about as interesting as watching paint dry. Maybe time to fall back. Obviously he didn’t want to say anymore about his ex-wife. The good thing was, he didn’t press her for her story. She definitely didn’t want to talk about Nick. The closed door felt comfortable. For now.

  After clearing the plates, Logan brought out a small gold box of pricey chocolates. She sighed with contentment as he led her into the living room that overlooked the rainy city. What could be cozier than curling up on a leather loveseat, nibbling chocolates?

  One or two things came to mind.

  For now, she’d stick with the chocolates. After whisking off the gold cover, Logan offered her the box. The sinfully rich scent of dark chocolate teased her. He smiled when she took her time choosing.

  “Mocha chocolate. Yum. I can’t resist.” The dark shell cracked under her teeth, releasing the thick, rich interior.

  “Why even try?” A strawberry cream in hand, he hesitated. After taking a bite, he kissed her. The strawberry taste curled around her mocha chocolate.

  Great combination. Great kiss.

  She should have stopped it right there.

  Instead she breathed him in, linking her hands around his neck. When it came to pheromones, they had it in spades. Pretty soon, the chocolates were forgotten, the box left open on his glass-topped coffee table. When his hands wandered, she didn’t stop him. McKenna ached to be touched. Her breasts tingled when he cupped them, hummed when he stroked a thumb over their aching peaks. Arching her back, she leaned into him, winding her arms tighter around his neck.

  It would have been so easy to get totally crazy. But something stopped her. Thoughts about their working relationship and pain down the road made her plant both hands flat on his chest and push away. Cripes, this vacillation was going to give her whiplash.

  “What?” He opened lazy eyes, heart thundering under her palms.

  My word, he was gorgeous.

  “Maybe I should be getting home.”

  “Really?” Lips swollen, he traced her eyebrows with his fingertips. “Right.”

  When he drew away, she told herself this was a good thing. He drove her home in silence and gave her a perfunctory kiss at the door. McKenna’s golf bag felt heavy on her shoulder when she lugged it inside.

  ~.~

  The following week was so busy that she almost didn't have time to obsess about Sunday with her Hot Doc. She was just grateful that they’d called a halt. She needed time to think.

  Still, it was difficult to concentrate on work. According to Jack Frazier, their blog had become increasingly popular. The article on hydration brought a strong response, along with Bethany’s entry about shoulder dystocia.

  But as McKenna dealt with each day, her thoughts returned to Logan. The golf date had been a game changer. Oh, he hadn't dragged her into his office again. That was way too embarrassing. She could hardly see Maggie McCree in the hallway without blushing. He was a lot more subtle than that.

  Hot Doc had turned to texting. His messages weren’t anything mundane like, “thinking of you.” Instead, she’d find the words “dark chocolate” or “tasty” pop up on her phone. One or two words and she'd be a whimpering puddle. She began consuming the chocolates hidden in her desk like popcorn. Her stash needed replenishing almost daily.

  Took some effort to tear her thoughts from Logan. So many other concerns clamored for her attention. For one thing, she was really worried about Angie. What if she didn't come this Wednesday? How would she ever forgive herself if Angie Dowd slipped through the cracks like a lot of other abused women?

  In her gut, McKenna knew Angie was being mistreated. Maybe it was her dark, slippery eyes or the slumped shoulders. Something was wrong.

  On Wednesday around five o'clock, she found Cindy Hamilton, the OB unit social worker, in her office. Shoving folders into a satchel, Cindy looked like she was packing up for the day. McKenna almost felt guilty when Cindy turned to her with her warm hazel eyes. “Hey McKenna.”

  “Heading home? I can come back tomorrow.” McKenna paused in the doorway.

  “Absolutely not, McKenna. Haven’t seen you in a while.” Shoving her briefcase aside, Cindy motioned her in and plopped her stocky body in her office chair. With her unassuming style, Cindy related well to everyone.

  “Thanks.” Exhausted after an especially long labor, McKenna collapsed into a chair so hard her tailbone hurt. “I need your help.”

  Pushing a bowl of chocolate kisses toward McKenna, Cindy smiled. “Figured as much. You're not someone who wanders over to chew the fat. You never have time.”

  “So you noticed.” McKenna slowly peeled the silver paper from a kiss and brought Cindy up to speed. “I don't want to frighten Angie away,” she concluded. “As it is, she didn't show up last Wednesday.”

  “Why don't I stop in tonight?” Cindy offered without batting an eye.

  “On such short notice?” Semi-sweet chocolate melting in her mouth, McKenna nodded toward the briefcase.

  “If I’m not home, my husband will appreciate my miserable dinners more. You can introduce me to the class as a possible resource. The Social Work Department always likes free PR. Or I can wait until most of the class has left and hope that we can corral Angie.”

  Relief eased the tension in McKenna's chest, and the dark chocolate slid easily down her throat. “Thanks so much. I’ll be interested to get your take on this girl. Maybe it’s nothing, but...”

  “That’s why your patients all love you. You really care.”

  Embarrassed, McKenna jumped to her feet. “Great, see you later.”

  That evening after the For Women office had emptied out, McKenna sat in her office going over the agenda for the class. She was covering breast feeding, comfort measures and second-stage labor techniques. Defining the coach's role was also on the list, which would give her an opportunity to be closer to Angie. Maybe tonight the young woman would bring a mother or a sister. Maybe all this worry would have been for nothing. Hope lifted the heavy weight from McKenna’s chest.

  “So, what’s happening with you, girl?” Selena leaned against the doorframe, car keys dangling from one hand.

  “Going over my notes for tonight.”

  “I'm talking about your glow, not your class.”

  “Glow, huh?” Tucking her hair behind one ear, McKenna grinned. She’d just gotten another text from Logan.

  “There it is!” Selena wagged one finger. “That secret smile is exactly what I'm talking about.”

  Lips locked, McKenna sat back.

  “Okay, okay,” Selena said with frustration. “Then I’m not even going to mention that Dr. Castle left a message saying he’s coming to the Midwives in Action meeting.”

  “He is?” Surprise yanked McKenna upright in her chair.

  Lips curling into her Cheshire cat smile, Selena looked pleased. “Chalk it up to my expert salesmanship.” She buffed the nails of one hand on her chest.

  “You get a gold star for this one.” McKenna's mind raced ahead. Having Logan on the trip could be a test. She almost didn’t want to know the result.

  “And I have a very special task for him once we get there. Short timeline, for sure. One week.” Selena’s dark eyes sparkled. “He'll find that a lot of ladies are waiting for him.”

  Suspicion tickled the back of McKenna’s neck. “What are you talking about? Tubal ligations? C-section training?”

  Selena shook her head. “He's needed in a far more interesting manner by women who will be very, very appreciative.” Drawing closer, she said, “Here’s the plan …”

  As her best friend detailed Logan’s mission in Guatemala, McKenna's ballpoint slipped from her hand. This could be a deal-breaker. The trip might take Logan far outside his comfort zone.

  The nagging fear in her chest told her she expected the worst. Sometimes disappointment can leav
e you cynical, and McKenna was afraid that’s where she was right now. Clicking on his latest message, she read it for about the fifteenth time.

  Man, oh, man, he could be naughty.

  Right now she was enjoying Logan…his secret smiles when they passed in the halls, his provocative texts. They were in what Vanessa always called the “luminescence.” In the beginning, you imagine the person you’re dating is perfect. But when he doesn’t measure up, or vice versa, why, it can be devastating. She pocketed her phone.

  Two hours later she was still thinking of Selena's unusual proposition for Logan when she began the natural childbirth class. She'd invited Terry Lincoln from La Leche to speak about breast feeding. As Terry began her short talk, McKenna fought disappointment as her eyes swept the room. No Angie.

  But just when Terry was wrapping up, Angie slipped into the room, grabbed a mat and plopped down in the very back. Terry left and McKenna continued. “You’ll…you’ll be happy to know that massage is a big help during labor…” she continued. As McKenna talked about the role of massage, lollipops, oils and other comfort measures, she made a point of making eye contact with Angie. The girl didn’t blink. Just sat back on her haunches, staring straight ahead.

  After taking the group through pushing techniques, McKenna moved on to the coach's role. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cindy Hamilton slip in and take one of the seats pushed back against the wall. The social worker gave McKenna a small wave.

  She nodded back. “I'd like you to meet Cindy Hamilton, the social worker for our obstetrics unit. Cindy is the woman you go to with all your questions and all your complaints, I might add.”

  Everyone laughed as Cindy moved to the front of the room. Angie seemed to be listening, head tipped to one side, her eyes smudged with dark circles. Even though it was eighty degrees outside, she was wearing another one of her gigantic shirts that reached almost to the knees of her black tights. Her tennis shoes were untied, of course.

  “Cindy will be around after class if you have any questions,” McKenna added at the end. She prayed silently that Angie wouldn’t leave before she had a chance to get to her.

  Oddly enough, Angie lingered as the others filed out at the end of class. Cindy was studying notices posted on a bulletin board. Not at all suspicious.

  “Hey, we missed you last week, Angie.” McKenna approached the girl.

  “I had to… work.”

  By that time, Cindy had peeled away from the bulletin board and hovered in the background. “Great job, Cindy.” McKenna angled her body to include the social worker. “Did you have any questions?” she asked Angie. Good chance that Angie had no clue social workers could help people with a whole bucket load of problems.

  Biting her bottom lip, Angie shook her head.

  “Well, if anything ever comes up, Angie,” Cindy said in her disarmingly casual way, “I’ll be glad to steer you toward any resources you might need.”

  Angie blinked. Yep, she didn't have a clue.

  As the girl backed toward the door, it was all McKenna could do to stop herself from lunging and dragging her back by the arm. That approach totally wouldn't work.

  Cindy offered Angie a card. “Here's my office phone. I brought a bunch of these cards with me tonight to pass out and forgot.”

  Angie looked at the white business card in her hand and closed her fist around it. “Nice talking to you. Gotta run.” And she was gone.

  McKenna and Cindy looked at each other in silence. “Guess I really blew that one,” McKenna muttered, moving out into the hall.

  “Small victories. That's what it's all about.” Mouth tightening, Cindy watched Angie push open the door leading to the stairs. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think you're probably right about her. Let's keep at it.”

  Chapter 11

  Midwives in Action was in full swing when Logan arrived. High-pitched female voices filled the hospital conference room. He was definitely outnumbered. After ripping off his tie, he tucked it in a pants pocket and took a seat. Usually he was in charge of the meetings he attended in this room. Tonight it felt good to sit in the back.

  Up since three that morning, he pressed his aching back into the curved wooden seat. First baby for Monica and Pete Meyers, so this had been a long labor and long day, punctuated by trips back to his office. He needed coffee. Jumping up, he followed the dark, rich scent to a side table. After grabbing an oatmeal cookie and coffee, he nodded at the nurses and ambled back to his seat.

  Around him, the women were chattering—and probably not about midwifery. Outside the long narrow windows it had been another hot day in Chicago and darkness fell begrudgingly. Thank God the air conditioning was on full blast.

  Up front, McKenna was talking to Selena, who was setting up her PowerPoint. He enjoyed looking at McKenna. The overhead lighting carved deep copper hollows in her wavy hair that felt like silk. He curled his hand tighter around the coffee cup. Nothing seemed to slow this woman down, and her hands fluttered like a bird’s wings. Excitement flushed McKenna’s porcelain skin and her green eyes flashed. For all he knew, she could be talking about the weather. McKenna Kirkpatrick found the world fascinating—a big turn-on.

  But he felt her reserve. Irritating but he had to respect that. He thoroughly understood the dangers of developing a relationship with someone at work. Careers were important, and he loved his life at Montclair. If things fell apart, the career could suffer. No one wanted that.

  Sometimes Logan asked himself if he knew what he was doing. Since his divorce, he’d avoided any kind of commitment. Good God, it took him a year to even ask a woman out for dinner. Then his grandmother tried to fix him up with a friend’s granddaughter. That did it. He was jolted into action and had to start dating.

  But he was careful. Although there might be a second date, rarely was there a third. Logan was a red-blooded American male, but he didn’t want any jabber about the future. No clothes left in a woman’s home. He wouldn’t be another Griff, mowing through the nursing ranks. The hurt in the last woman’s voice when she called to ask why she hadn’t heard from him brought a stop to what he thought was considerate behavior.

  He didn’t want to be that man.

  Then he got to know McKenna. She was an intriguing woman. But she didn’t know he was damaged goods. And he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

  Logan took a slow sip of coffee and then went back for cream. Selena was setting up and a colored map of Guatemala flashed onto the whiteboard up front. Although he’d taken Spanish in high school and some in college, he knew absolutely nothing about the country except that it was in Central America. After stirring the cream into his coffee, he tossed the stir stick into the trash and sat back down.

  “Did you grab something to eat?” McKenna asked as she plopped down next to him.

  That seductive peach smell teased him as he turned toward her. Nodding, he inhaled the coffee in defense. “Got a salad in the cafeteria. Oh, and an oatmeal cookie.”

  “No truffles?” Her green eyes danced.

  Sputtering, he choked. That box of chocolates was enshrined in his refrigerator, hoping for her return. “Not tonight.”

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” McKenna’s auburn lashes fluttered innocently.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  The laughter faded from her eyes. “Now, remember, you don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

  “Are we talking about Guatemala or something else?”

  McKenna wrinkled her nose. “What? Guatemala, of course.”

  “I never do things I don't want to do. Are you trying to talk me out of one week in a foreign country with you?”

  She chuckled, one of those rolling, throaty laughs that made the other women glance around. “Dr. Castle, this is hardly a romantic getaway.”

  “Ms. Kirkpatrick, I realize that. I came tonight for information.” Not quite true. He’d pretty much made up his mind about this trip. “I'm just glad that with Priscilla on
board, I have this option.”

  “How is Priscilla working out?”

  “It's great to have another OB on staff, I can tell you that much.” Relaxing back in the chair, he stretched out his legs. “Sure, Bob McCracken's group provided coverage for us, but I should've expanded earlier. And Priscilla’s sharp. The women like her. What?”

  Her forehead smoothed. “Nothing. Just glad that…the women like Priscilla.” Were those questions marks she was doodling on her pad?

  Women. He'd never understand them. Despite the caffeine fix, the long day rolled over him and he glanced at his watch. Seven o'clock.

  “Could I have your attention please?” Selena stepped up to the podium and began to introduce the group by name. Most of them were midwives—some from other hospitals—along with a nutritionist.

  “Beans, corn and rice are the staples in Guatemala,” Selena explained. “When they have them. Sherry Barry, one of our nutritionists, is coming to teach them to help themselves.”

  Sherry waved a hand and the group clapped.

  Selena’s next comment made him shrink in his chair. “Many of you know Dr. Logan Castle. I'm hoping we can convince him to join our group.” A polite patter of applause followed with some neck craning. He was relieved when Selena moved on. “We leave two weeks from this Saturday. We'll be landing in Guatemala City and then travel into the highlands, where people have difficulty accessing care.”

  They all nodded. Seemed to be a group who knew the expectations. He liked what he saw.

  “Although Montclair Specialty Hospital is officially sponsoring us, several other hospitals—your employers—have generously donated equipment and pharmaceuticals hard to come by in Guatemala. Those who've volunteered before for Midwives in Action know that the people speak Spanish as well as several indigenous languages. If you can't speak Spanish, don't worry. Some of us can translate.”

  He’d have to brush up. Was McKenna multilingual? He glanced over. She was the type of woman who was good at everything.