Windy City Romance: Boxed Set: Prequel - Book III

by Barbara Lohr

  “I’m a chocolate freak.” That was putting it mildly. She scooped up a chocolate doughnut dripping with chocolate frosting and topped by jimmies.

  “Whoa, guess so.”

  “Never too much of a good thing.” She sank her teeth in, and he went back to studying the remaining choices.

  “Go for it. Thought you were famished,” she managed around her second bite. Delivered in early morning darkness, the doughnuts were still warm. Icing coated her teeth but a quick flick of her tongue took care of that.

  Logan had glanced up and his eyes followed her tongue. For a second his full lips worked in silence before, “Right. Well, too much chocolate for me.” His hand landed on a plain sour cream doughnut. No frosting, nothing.

  Now, what fun was that?

  “I believe in quality calories.” McKenna laughed, one hand over her mouth to avoid spewing crumbs. She licked a dollop of chocolate from one finger.

  His doughnut sailed to the floor with a faint slapping sound. “Damn!” After tossing it in the trash, he grabbed another equally pathetic plain doughnut and took a big bite.

  “Coffee?” She held up the pot.

  He nodded. Her hand shook a bit as she filled her own mug, and McKenna tightened her hold on the plastic handle. Long night, and she was tired. He must be too, with those red-rimmed eyes. Still, that working man scent called to her. Just something about a guy who exuded heat and passion in his work. Kind of like her five brothers. Even though he could take things too seriously, Logan was probably like that. Dedicated.

  But, man, sometimes the head of OB could be so serious.

  Reaching into the cupboard, McKenna pulled out a mug that read, “Snap out of it…smile.” She poured Logan’s coffee and handed it to him. Glancing at the wording, he grinned before taking a sip, laugh lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Interesting...and tasty.”

  She took a quick gulp that seared her mouth. Ducking her head, she kicked off her clogs in front of the brown tweed sofa and sank down, folding her legs under her.

  “So, when did you come in?” The sofa creaked as Logan took a spot next to her. Not going to dash out the door, as usual? With the exception of her interview, McKenna couldn’t recall ever talking to Logan Castle one-on-one. Even then, the CEO had been in the room.

  She swiveled to face him. “Got the call late yesterday. Met Amy here about half an hour later. She’s actually a good friend.”

  “Bet that felt great. Still, long haul for you.” When he stretched his legs out in front of him, the scrubs tightened around muscled thighs. This man should never wear a lab coat again. The crisp white jacket cloaked all the good parts.

  But where was she? “A woman labors at her own speed, and I respect that. During the evaluation process, the midwives gauge the woman’s potential and take her preferences into account. I don’t believe in Pitocin unless it’s necessary.” Good Lord, she was tossing out words like extra surgical supplies he just might need. Her colleagues in For Women, their midwifery group, often accused her of climbing on a soapbox. Sucking in a quick breath, she shut up and went back to her coffee.

  Logan’s intelligent gray eyes studied her as if she’d just said something profound. Warmth that didn’t come from the coffee bathed her cheeks and chest. Doggone, she hated the way her blushes could become freaking forest fires.

  “When it comes to Pit, I totally agree. To my knowledge, we only use it when absolutely needed here at Montclair.” Logan seemed to be turning each word over in his mind, like a rock that might hide a complete new world underneath. “I know you’re in favor of more natural birthing methods, McKenna, although we’ve never had a chance to talk privately. What brought you to midwifery?”

  “The women, the babies and…just all that.” Her voice ended on a soft note. “My mother delivered all seven of us at home.”

  “Really?” Logan’s eyes widened. “That’s amazing.”

  “She’s one tough lady.”

  He grinned. “Sounds like you come by that naturally.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  His head fell onto the back of the sofa and the strong neck that suggested more football than basketball turned. “Everything’s going all right in For Women? I try to touch base with all the OBs regularly. Didn’t mean to ignore the midwives.” He’d rolled his head toward her, as if on a pillow. They stared at each other in silence.

  Her heartbeat revved. Had to remind herself that this was Logan Castle, for Pete’s sake.

  “Fine, ah, we’re just fine. Any truth to the rumor that we might get a new LDRP at Montclair? I mean, it would be great not to shift patients around after they delivered.”

  With an LDRP, women labored, delivered, and recovered in one room. Like all the other mothers who delivered in the water birthing suite or the OR, Amy had been taken from one floor to another after giving birth. Not ideal and disruptive for the new family.

  Leaning forward, Logan rested his arms on his knees. Darn. She missed his head on the pillow, er, sofa.

  “I’ve heard the Foundation might shake loose some funding for OB. But I don’t know if there’s been any real focus outlined for those dollars. An LDRP? There may be other priorities.” His sandy brows drew together.

  “What would those be, Logan?” She wanted everything to be clear. No hidden agendas.

  His frown deepened as he launched into a detailed description of a new ventilation system and in-suite imaging equipment for the OR that allowed immediate diagnosis during a procedure. She was afraid her eyes might roll back in her head.

  Maybe it showed. “You can never be too careful when it comes to patient care, can you?” His voice dropped to a low question.

  “I’m with you on that, but more equipment, huh?” McKenna rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Montclair already excelled when it came to the latest technology.

  “Shouldn’t we do everything possible to lower the margin of error?” Genuine concern darkened his eyes.

  “Sure, but isn’t giving birth a natural process? It’s not like we’re working with a joint that needs replacing or a broken leg. Seems to me we can help that process in natural ways.” Thank God the air conditioning kicked on.

  “Sometimes you can hit a bump in the road. Isn’t it our job to do everything to prevent that?” Logan turned to her like he really was searching for an answer.

  “Of course it is.” McKenna didn’t want to disagree with the head of her department. Negotiating consensus was her way of resolving differences. Discussion about the water birthing suite had gotten pretty heated in department meetings after her arrival. But Warren Mitchell, their CEO and a heck of a great guy, had insisted. Expanding the concept to a complete renovation of the OB floor might be an uphill battle with the head of the department.

  “In any case, I hope the Foundation will leave it to us, the clinicians, to decide how the money would be spent.” While he nursed his coffee, Logan’s full lower lip stayed wet. “On safe options.”

  She jerked to attention. “Natural childbirth, hypnosis, water birthing—of course our approach is safe.”

  “Is it?” His eyes became a deep cauldron. “Not always, McKenna. Not for everyone.”

  The wind was knocked out of her by the angsting in his eyes. Whatever demons drove Logan Castle, she bet they kept him up at night.

  The door blasted open. “Any yogurt in the place before I start surgery?” After flicking on the overhead lights, Griff Ramsey headed for the refrigerator.

  Logan and McKenna both sat back, like they were retreating from a ledge. Griff continued to motor-mouth. “Two hips and one knee replacement in a row. Have to talk to my office about this scheduling.” The orthopedic surgeon grabbed a carton of yogurt from the refrigerator, rooted around in a drawer for a spoon and then turned. “Hey, Logan. McKenna. You two have a delivery this morning?” A burly guy, Griff looked from one to the other as if they were in a huddle, deciding on the next football play.

  “I had a delivery in the O
R,” Logan began. “And McKenna, in the water birthing suite.”

  “Right, right.” Griff’s eyes did a quick guy-sweep. Griff appreciated women, which might be why he was newly divorced. Still, he was fun and a darned good doctor. “That’s a neat thingy they play over the PA.” His eyes shifted to the ceiling, like the lullaby might start any moment. “What is that anyway?”

  “Brahms’ lullaby,” McKenna supplied. “Every time a baby’s born, they play it over the PA.”

  “They do?” Logan looked at her as if she’d just made this up.

  “Yep, we made that decision at one of our section meetings,” she reminded him.

  Tossing his empty carton in the trash, Griff dropped the spoon in the sink with a loud clunk. “Logan, golf this Saturday? Shady Run? Duncan and Gary are on board.”

  “Sounds great.”

  So, the head of OB didn’t spend each weekend going over nosocomial infection reports?

  “Griff, how’s that little boy of yours?” Logan asked.

  Griff pivoted. “On the mend but he won’t be playing any more baseball this season. Tricky, those compound fractures. You know kids, always breaking something. Thanks for asking.”

  “Sure. Glad to hear it.” Logan’s obvious concern was kind of touching. She wondered if he had kids.

  As the door closed behind Dr. Ramsey, Logan and McKenna both jumped up. The long night was catching up with her. One more check on Amy and she was taking off. Maybe she could grab a few winks before her clinic appointments.

  “Gotta get going. See you later, Dr. Castle,” she murmured, shoving her feet back into her clogs. She set her cup in the sink, and so did Logan.

  He held the door open for her. “It’s Logan, McKenna,” he said softly as she passed him. “Call me Logan.”

  “Got it.”

  “See you later, McKenna. And I’ll give you an update on any pending improvements when I hear more.” After a quick parting smile, Logan loped down the hall with the stride of a golfer on his game.

  As she trotted off to check on Amy again, McKenna exhaled.

  ~.~

  “What’s up?” Selena Ruiz, another midwife at For Women, looked up when McKenna ambled into the locker room. Amy was settled in upstairs with Mallory keeping close watch. So cozy and cute.

  McKenna sank onto the hard bench. “Had a talk with Logan Castle.” Hands on her thighs, she stared at the green locker in front of her.

  Selena’s head jerked around. “Castle—our Hot Doc who doesn’t know it? What about?”

  Twirling the dial on her lock, McKenna struggled to recall the combination, mind still on her little chat with Logan. “Um, a new LDRP unit.”

  “How cool is that! Water birth included in the plan?”

  “Nothing’s been decided. Sure seems like Logan’s in favor of new equipment instead of supporting an LDRP unit. You could say we had a difference of opinion.”

  “He can be strong minded, but still…”

  “His patients love him. I read that all the time in our website comments. He listens to women. Sensitive guy. Still, not sure we’re on the same page. He wants more equipment and high tech instead of supporting our natural methods. At least, that’s how I see it.”

  Selena crammed her enormous orange purse into the locker. “He’s a guy who doesn’t like to leave anything to chance. Something sad in his background. Can’t remember what, though.”

  McKenna batted one hand against the unyielding lock.

  “Logan is doing some outstanding work with in vitro fertilization. Some new process that has to do with maturing eggs.”

  “Puh-lease.” McKenna groaned. “Old eggs. That’s the last thing I want to hear about right now.”

  “Not old. Maturing,” Selena said softly, sliding over to drape one arm across McKenna’s shoulders. “Look, girlfriend. You have to date more and work less. Get those eggs ready to launch.”

  “You’re probably right.” Ah, ten, twenty-one, seventeen. McKenna yanked the lock open. Her hands grabbed folders, but her mind couldn’t lose hold of Logan’s stormy eyes. Being a fixer, she always had a compelling urge to solve other people’s problems.

  After closing her locker and snapping the lock shut, McKenna pushed to her feet. “How’s my handsome brother? Haven’t seen him for a while. Any wedding bells on the horizon?” Selena had been dating Seth for a couple of years. No secret that McKenna would love to have Selena as a sister-in-law.

  “Not yet. You know something I don’t know?” Wrapping her arms around herself, Selena leaned against the lockers. She was definitely in la-la land.

  “Spill, girlfriend,” McKenna teased.

  “Nothing to tell.” Selena’s lips tilted in a wickedly sensual smile.

  Seth was an EMT, but this was more than a career match. Selena could enter a room, and Seth would zone in on her like a heat-seeking missile. He made it clear that Selena was always on his radar screen. At a party, McKenna’s former boyfriend Nick had always worked the room. Told her she was so independent, she didn’t need him on her arm.

  Plunking back down, McKenna opened her locker again, stuck her material back inside and slammed it shut. “Heck, I’m not going home. I’ll just head to one of the on-call rooms. One hour, that’s all I need before my morning appointments.”

  Selena was barreling toward the door. “Don’t forget the Midwives in Action meeting tonight. We’re making plans for the Guatemala mission.”

  “Got it on my calendar.” McKenna took off, grabbed the elevator to the eighth floor and slipped into a cozy, dimly lit on-call room.

  Throwing herself on one of the firm cots, McKenna set her phone alarm for one hour and texted Vanessa news about Amy’s baby. Then she tried to get comfortable on the hard cot. She couldn’t get Logan out of her head. He’d left her riled and she told herself it was that pained look that flickered in his gray eyes. What was his problem? Somehow she had to finagle more time with the head of her department and soon.

  Patience had never been her strong suit.

  Chapter 2

  “Logan, come on in.” Leaving his high-backed leather chair, Warren Mitchell motioned Logan toward the small conference table. Shirt sleeves rolled up, the CEO always looked ready to take on the world, although the wall of windows overlooking the lake provided plenty of distraction.

  “What's on your mind?” Logan took a seat. Office hours started in thirty minutes, but he’d give Warren all the time he needed. This was the man who kept Montclair at the top of its game.

  “As you probably know, the Foundation has been talking about funding another hospital improvement.”

  “I've heard rumors. What do they have in mind?”

  Settling back, Warren rested his gaze on the sailboats below before circling back to Logan. “What do you see as the need for your department?”

  After his conversation with McKenna that morning, Logan wasn’t quite sure. “Updating the OR suites would be one idea.” He launched into the highlights of the new technology.

  “And how do your colleagues feel?”

  “They may have other ideas, and I’d like to have those identified.” He smiled, remembering his discussion with McKenna that morning. As his grandmother would say, the woman was quite a character.

  “The board meeting is at the end of the month,” Warren continued. “Can you gather input and work up a rough presentation? Of course, Marketing is at your disposal.”

  “Sure, we can pull something together.” But Warren’s calculating look told Logan there was more.

  “Logan, I'd like you to involve McKenna Kirkpatrick in the planning. As head of For Women, she can represent the midwives. You’ll make a good team.”

  Suddenly, he couldn't seem to escape McKenna Kirkpatrick. “No problem. McKenna makes sense.”

  “She’s plugged into the community and has a good read on what women want today.” Warren was nodding in his patriarchal manner. “If we’re going to introduce a new concept, it should be done with flair.”

>   “Flair? Warren, this isn't a reality decorating show on TV.”

  The bushy eyebrows of his old family friend rose. “We need women’s input. After all, they’re the customer. And McKenna has that spark about her.”

  After that, Logan didn’t hear a word.

  Thinking back to his early morning encounter with McKenna, he felt a warm rush that made him change positions in the barrel chair. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time and didn’t know if he liked it. Since her arrival, the feisty redhead had become that “hot-headed midwife,” at least for him. She disrupted meetings with questions that took them way off track.

  Today she’d had him chuckling. That coffee mug? No accident. Their conversation had left him riled and it felt damn good. But their plans for the department might put them on a collision course.

  “You’re frowning.” Warren’s eyes drilled into him.

  “Just lack of sleep.”

  Warren didn’t look convinced. “McKenna has her finger on the pulse of today's woman. Why, she keeps that water birthing suite busy every week. The women go home and write about us on one Internet forum or another.”

  The thought of McKenna’s delicate, lightly freckled fingers on his pulse brought a warm flush. Good God. He had to snap out of it. Warren was still talking.

  “McKenna is tuned in. Connected to the community. She comes from a huge West Side family, with siblings involved in the betterment of the city.” Warren’s eyes sparked with the fire of a man who loved his work.

  “West Side?” He’d grown up in River Forest but the name Kirkpatrick wasn’t familiar.

  Warren shrugged. “Oak Park isn’t quite River Forest, but still the kind of people your grandfather envisioned when he founded this hospital.”

  Ah, there it was. Warren always positioned him so Logan faced the portrait of his grandfather, Winston Montclair. The original painting resided in Grandmother Cecilia’s home in River Forest. This copy hung in the CEO’s office with another in the hospital foyer.

  The message was clear. Logan should live up to his family name. He checked his watch. “Fine. Sounds good. I’ll contact McKenna.”