A Stolen Kiss with the Midwife Read online

  She should be happy being best friends with Milo. Her heart had skipped around him for years, but she’d always managed to put it back in its place. Maybe coming back to California was a mistake. But she’d felt called here, like she needed to come home—at least for a little while.

  It was a feeling she still couldn’t explain, but Quinn had always chosen new locations and jobs by what felt right. And working with Milo had felt right. So why was it so hard?

  Turning on the shower, Quinn quickly stripped off her scrubs and tried to push away the thoughts of the man just outside the door.

  How did Milo kiss? She shivered despite the heat of the water on her skin. She wanted an answer to that question—desperately.

  Dear Reader,

  One of my favorite romance tropes has always been best friends to lovers. There is something special about realizing that your friend is the one your heart belongs to. Quinn and Milo have a deep friendship, but each craves so much more.

  Certified nurse-midwife Quinn Davis has never really felt at home. She’s traveled the world but still hasn’t found her place. But when she returns to Los Angeles to work with her best friend, sparks fly. Can home really be the place she’s avoided for so long?

  Dr. Milo Russell has always admired Quinn’s ability to go with her gut. But Milo needs what the security plans, outlines and goal sheets give him. However, when Quinn challenges him to think about what he really wants, Milo realizes the answer is her! Can he convince his wonderful, impulsive best friend that the dream he desires most is her heart?

  I hope you enjoy getting to know these two best friends turned soul mates as much as I enjoyed writing them.

  Happy reading!

  Juliette Hyland

  A Stolen Kiss with the Midwife

  Juliette Hyland

  Juliette Hyland began crafting heroes and heroines in high school. She lives in Ohio with her Prince Charming, who has patiently listened to many rants regarding characters failing to follow the outline. When not working on fun and flirty happily-ever-afters, Juliette can be found spending time with her beautiful daughters, giant dogs or sewing uneven stitches with her sewing machine.

  Books by Juliette Hyland

  Harlequin Medical Romance

  Unlocking the Ex-Army Doc’s Heart

  Falling Again for the Single Dad

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  For my sister—my confidante and coconspirator. Here’s to more fun and crazy days!

  Praise for Juliette Hyland

  “A can’t-miss debut! With her first novel, Juliette Hyland brings an intriguing new voice to the Harlequin Medical Romance line. I wasn’t putting that book down until I made it to that happily ever after! I highly recommend this book to anyone wanting a story filled with a medical forefront but also filled to the brim with chemistry, heart and dramatic fulfillment. I’m anxiously awaiting more from this new storyteller!”

  —Goodreads on Unlocking the Ex-Army Doc’s Heart

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM AWAKENING HIS SHY VET BY SHELLEY RIVERS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CERTIFIED NURSE-MIDWIFE Quinn Davis refused to look out the window, even as a few of the other nurses gaped at the orange blaze on the horizon. The wildfire had been burning for almost three weeks; she didn’t need to see the damage. Quinn knew what the fire looked like, knew where it was heading, knew what was at risk.

  “I can’t believe it’s still burning.”

  “I heard it’s less than fifteen percent contained.”

  “No! I was listening to the news this morning, but I changed the station before they talked numbers.”

  It was twenty percent contained. Quinn had been monitoring the blaze since it began, but she kept the news to herself. She didn’t want to join the conversation. Didn’t trust herself not to break.

  If she could only drown out their words.

  She had a patient in labor; she couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. At least, not distracted any further.

  Quinn slid into a chair and tried to block Rhonda and Sherrie’s exclamations from her ears. Both nurses commuted in from the south. This fire wouldn’t touch them—not directly. But no one in this area of California ever truly believed a wildfire couldn’t reach them.

  Georgia stuck her head into the lounge. “Rhonda, Olivia is at nine centimeters.”

  “Guess that puts us on deck.” Sherrie turned from the window and nodded to Quinn as she and Rhonda left to tend to their patient.

  Quinn was grateful that work had called them away before they’d asked her about the destruction in the hills.

  Or if she was worried.

  Her phone pinged with a text message from her landlady, asking if she was safe. She managed to type a short affirmative without tearing up—barely. The evacuation notice for Quinn’s neighborhood had shifted from voluntary to mandatory during her shift. A sob pressed against the back of Quinn’s throat, but she refused to let it out.

  Tapping her foot against the small table in the lounge, Quinn rolled her neck from side to side and tried to think of anything besides the bungalow being in the fire line.

  It was just a place...

  But it wasn’t. The longest lease Quinn had ever signed before she’d seen the bungalow was for six months. During her decade as a traveling nurse, she’d lived out of two duffel bags. She didn’t get attached to places—or to people. She’d learned the hard way that just because she connected didn’t mean others did. Picking up and moving was ingrained in her.

  Or, it had been, until the position at St. Brigit’s had opened.

  Maybe this was punishment for her giving in to the desire to finally claim something as her own. For painting walls and pretending the bungalow was really hers. No! She would not let her brain accept that possibility.

  Quinn also refused to look at the opportunity to work with her best friend as anything other than a blessing.

  She’d planned St. Brigit’s to be a temporary place, too—a year-long contract at best—but something about that bungalow had called to her.

  Or maybe it was being back in California.

  When her landlady had told her she’d wanted a long-term tenant, Quinn had readily agreed.

  Still, she hadn’t bought new furniture. Renting had seemed safer. Easier to dispose of if things didn’t work out.

  Yet, the bungalow, even with its rented furnishings, had felt like hers. A home. She’d never felt at home anywhere, not even as a child. She’d seen so much of the world but never found a place to really call hers. It didn’t make sense that it was happening here—the home she’d escaped as soon as she’d graduated college. But no matter how much Quinn pushed back, the seed of a possible forever here in California had refused to slow its bloom.

  But now her home was turning to ash.

  She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. The yearning for a home, a real home, was uncomfortable. Maybe her biological clock was ticking—a primal desire urging her to plant roots so she could start a family—but that seemed too superficial. Coming back to California had felt different than she’d expected.

  She felt different.

&n
bsp; Why now? There’d been upheaval in her life before. So many times. And it had never made her want a home or a family. Quinn shifted. Trying to find a comfortable position on the plastic lounge chair was a lost cause, and her body was restless.

  She absently rubbed the skin on the finger of her left hand. She’d worn James’s engagement ring for less than three weeks before he’d confessed to cheating on her with one of the other itinerant nurses. The worst part was that she hadn’t even been all that surprised. Her birth mother hadn’t wanted her. Quinn hadn’t lived up to her adoptive parents’ dreams—so why had she thought James would be different?

  She hadn’t been angry, hadn’t yelled or thrown anything. Quinn couldn’t even remember crying. She’d simply packed her bags and moved on. A wildfire in the hills of California—something she’d seen far too many times growing up—wasn’t unexpected, but it was throwing her out of sync.

  It was her own fault. She knew better than to surrender to sentiment.

  Quinn bit her lip and wiped her hands on her thighs as she tried to push away the image of her home on fire. Squeezing her eyes closed, she crossed her arms and willed the tears away.

  Before rushing into the birthing center last night, why hadn’t she thought to grab the things she’d packed a week ago? She’d boxed the few items that she cared about and carefully stowed them where she could snatch them up in less than ten minutes if the evac orders came down. She should have brought them with her.

  “If your face gets any longer...”

  A hot cup of coffee pressed against her fingers and Quinn lifted it to her lips without opening her eyes. The black coffee was bitter, and a bit burned, but the caffeine kick was what she needed. And she was grateful for any distraction.

  “Seriously, Quinn. What’s going on?”

  A knee connected with hers as Milo slid into the chair across from her, and Quinn ignored the tingles that slid along her leg. She was tired, worried, and her emotions were tangled. That was the only reason she was reacting to Dr. Milo Russell this morning, she told herself, ignoring the fact that she’d felt those same tingles yesterday morning...and every other day since she’d walked into his arms at the airport eight months ago. Such a simple welcome that had shifted everything in Quinn’s soul.

  Almost a year later and she still couldn’t explain the feelings.

  Or why those emotions hadn’t made her pack her bags and flee.

  Luckily, Quinn’s brain was too full of other worries to let that one take residency in the front of her mind today. Not that it ever wandered away for long, though...

  Opening her eyes, Quinn tipped her cup at Milo as he took a seat beside her on the lounge chair. His jade eyes bore through her and she barely kept herself from leaning into him. Milo was her friend. Her best friend. He was the reason she’d leaped at the opportunity to work at St. Brigit’s.

  Sure, he was gorgeous. Stunning. His deep dimples were the stuff of legend. She’d heard more than one single lady talk about what it might take to get those dimples to appear outside the birthing center. But Quinn never swooned over anyone. Not over her cheating ex-fiancé and certainly not over Milo. At least, that had been true until she’d moved back to California. Now she yearned for any contact with him.

  Quinn and Milo had always just been Quinn and Milo. They’d been best friends since grade school when Quinn had refused to name the person who had started the epic food fight. She’d stood in the principal’s office, refusing to out the new kid, when Milo had marched in and declared that he’d thrown the first nugget. In truth, neither had thought tossing a few hard chicken nuggets would result in pandemonium and pudding on the walls—but they’d cleaned it together. And they’d had each other’s backs ever since.

  Even when wanderlust had taken her to the other side of the country or the other side of the world, she and Milo always kept in touch. Video calls, emails and social media had meant they were only ever a GIF away. He was the one constant in her rambling life. Always there to make her laugh, to bounce ideas off about her next move, to make her happy.

  He’d always just been her friend Milo and working together at St. Brigit’s was a first for them. She’d enjoyed every minute of it, even if she was in a constant battle to get her body to stop substituting friendly feelings with romantic ones.

  “My neighborhood was placed under mandatory evac.” She ignored the shake in her hand as she lifted the coffee cup to her lips again. One of the packed boxes was filled with pictures of her and Milo, his sister, and his mother. Diana Russell had never made Quinn feel unwelcome—despite being a single mom and a hardworking physician—unlike Quinn’s own family. If that box of memories was lost... Quinn mentally kicked herself. She was not going to travel that well-worn path again this morning.

  “Do you need to leave?” Milo leaned forward and the soft scent of his cedar shampoo blended with the smell of her coffee.

  What was wrong with her? Before she’d returned to California, she couldn’t have told anyone anything about Milo’s shampoo. Though she could have told them that the scrunch of his nose meant he was concerned. And that a twitch in his left cheek meant he was holding in a laugh, but a twitch in his right cheek meant he was angry.

  Maybe the lines between friends and more had blurred long ago...

  They’d spent almost all their free time together since she’d arrived, enjoying the opportunity to be together in person rather than on the screen. He’d helped paint her bungalow, and they’d watched silly romantic comedies while sharing giant bowls of popcorn. But he’d never mentioned wanting more.

  And Milo always knew what he wanted.

  Focus!

  Shaking her head, Quinn shrugged. “Molly’s in labor. You know her history.” Molly had struggled with infertility, and she and her partner had had more than their share of losses over the past five years. After so many disappointments, they’d adopted a son a few years ago—a gorgeous little boy they were both devoted to—and had been stunned when she had conceived naturally.

  “I think Molly would understand.” Milo gripped her fingers.

  The simple gesture made Quinn’s heart rate pick up, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t have the strength to put distance between them today—even if she wanted to. Glancing out the window, she shuddered. “If I left right now, I wouldn’t make it home before the roads closed. I’m just mad I didn’t throw stuff in the car before I left last night.”

  She forced her gaze away from the orange glow creeping along the hills. Her home was really in danger. The place she’d felt called to might vanish.

  “Why not?” Milo’s lips formed a soft smile that any other day would have sent her belly tumbling with need. “The reports coming in—” He caught his final words.

  She knew all about the reports. Knew that if it had been Milo’s home, he’d have already prepared a five-page emergency plan. Heck, he probably had one anyway.

  Her chest constricted. Plans provided safety and security. But they could be weaponized, too.

  Used to control.

  Her hair, her room, her clothes, her activities had all been controlled—micromanaged. Her mother had kept a weekly calendar on the fridge. It was adjusted every Sunday morning—but only with activities deemed important to her parents. And deviation was not allowed.

  Quinn had learned to hide her true self. To build walls to protect that precious self. The world hurt less if she kept the well-constructed barriers in place.

  She’d done what had been expected of her. It hadn’t mattered that her toes screamed through another ballet practice. It hadn’t mattered that she’d absorbed the cutting remarks with a smile and the criticisms without argument. Walls hadn’t provided happiness, but they had kept her safe. Besides, a false smile achieved more than tears.

  She’d been the docile daughter until she’d refused to let her parents control her career choices. That one rebellio
n had led to her being cut out of their lives—all because she’d wanted some say about her future.

  But that one mutinous act had granted her freedom. The right to pick up and move to where she chose. To cut her hair. To dress how she wanted. To never have a planner!

  And when she had her own family, they were never going to feel like their life was scheduled. Her children, if she ever settled anywhere long enough to meet someone and have children, were going to know her love didn’t depend on following a plan.

  “I figured I had at least another day or two.” Her throat closed as she fought off tears. She never cried in front of anyone—and she wasn’t going to start today. Plus, denial was easier than focusing on disaster. But Milo wouldn’t understand that. He was always at least three steps ahead of everything.

  It was too late to do anything about it now, though. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “You know me. If necessary, I’ll find a new place.” The thought of moving again made her heart sink. That was new...and not welcome.

  Leaning forward, Quinn squeezed his hand.

  Why was she always reaching for him?

  “Maybe somewhere that gets snow,” she quipped, pulling back, “where the summers don’t make me worry about melting into the pavement.”

  Milo’s lips turned down. He’d never liked her talking about new places. He’d cheered when she’d announced that she wasn’t going to work in her parents’ law firm, but then he’d frowned when she’d said she was leaving California. He always frowned when she mentioned moving. She wasn’t even sure he was aware he did it.

  Though he hadn’t frowned when she’d told him she was coming home to join him at St. Brigit’s. The memory of his bright smile on that last video call still sent thrills through her.

  She hated his frown—hated causing it. Her fingers itched to smooth away the small lines at the corners of his eyes. “Want to see if there’s a clinic in Alaska that needs a midwife and stellar ob-gyn? We could buy some snowmobiles and race around the Arctic.”