My thoughts:
I loved this first book in Kimberly Kincaid's new Remington Medical contemporary romance series. It's brimming with deep emotion, complex relationships, and steamy romance, all set within the controlled chaos of the Remington Medical Emergency Department. Kincaid pulled me into the story from the first pages and held me spellbound until the very end.
Parker and Charlie haven't had any communication in the six years since their short marriage came to a quick and tragic end. When they unexpectedly come face to face on Charlie's first day back at Remington Medical, it's apparent that there are unresolved feelings, deep feelings, between them still. Okay, maybe not good feelings, at least on Charlie's part, but you know what they say about the fine line between hate and love. I felt an immediate connection to them both and couldn't wait to see what Kincaid had in store for them. I love how she tells their stories - what happened six years ago and what's occurring now - with flashbacks during the first part of the book. It gives readers a much better understanding of the deep love and commitment that was once between them and how they came to be in the adversarial position where they now reside. I also appreciate the care and time she takes with their present journey. There are no easy fixes with this couple and, given what they went through, there shouldn't be. Their bodies recognize first what their hearts are slower to accept which leads to some steamy encounters along the way. Let me just say, Kimberly Kincaid knows her way around steamy encounters! There are a lot of sexy scenes in this book but they all feel organic, never gratuitous, and they all lead to the happily ever after this couple so richly deserves.
Kincaid surrounds Charlie and Parker with a fascinating group of secondary characters and plenty simmering drama to boost my excitement for this series. I already have my favorites and can't wait to see what's in store for them in future books.
If you're a fan of shows like Grey's Anatomy, if you enjoy second-chances, both in life and love, if you want your books to snap, sizzle and introduce you to intriguing characters who will take you on an emotional journey, then I highly recommend Kimberly Kincaid's Back to You.
Excerpt
Back to You
Of
all the ways Parker Drake had envisioned his first day as an intern, witnessing
a sedan-versus-bike messenger that resulted in an open tib-fib before he’d even
walked through the hospital doors hadn’t been in the top one thousand.
Being
face to drop-jawed stare with the one woman he’d been certain he’d never lay
eyes on again, and who probably hated him as passionately as he’d once loved
her?
Had
to be a one in a million.
The
man in his arms groaned in pain, snapping time back into motion and Parker back
to reality in less than a heartbeat.
“I
need a little help over here,” Parker called out, and fucking great, Tess was here, too?
“What
happened?” Charlie asked as Tess hollered for a gurney and a C-collar, both of
which arrived astonishingly fast.
Parker
blinked, his brain momentarily too swamped with adrenaline to form a reply. Focus. On something other than how the hell
Charlie is here in front of you instead of far, far away in Nashville. Now
would be good, since you’re holding a guy whose tibia is sticking out of his
skin.
Well,
that did the trick to redirect his thoughts from her, at least temporarily.
Then again, work always did. “Mike Yoshida, got clipped by a Camry while riding
his bike,” Parker said, placing the man on the gurney and diving right in to
the bullet. “Obvious right lower leg deformity, GCS 12. No apparent head or
neck trauma, no LOC.” The guy’s helmet was still firmly in place. Not that it
had done his leg a lick of good, but at least that would be a hell of a lot
easier to repair.
“Hi,
Mr. Yoshida, I’m Dr. Michaelson, and this is Dr. Becker,” Tess said, but only
after she’d shot a micro-frown in Parker’s direction that promised nothing good
once their patient was stable. “We’re going to take care of you, okay?”
“O-okay.”
He tried to nod, but Tess placed her hands firmly over the sides of his helmet
to keep him still as Charlie grabbed the C-collar.
“Dr.
Becker and I are going to put this around your neck. I know it’s not super
comfortable, but we have to err on the side of caution until we can get a
closer look at your spine.”
Charlie,
who was in street clothes, and Tess, who wasn’t, had both gloved up to examine
the man while a nurse guided the gurney past the automatic doors and into a
curtain area.
“You
didn’t think to call a paramedic instead of dragging him in here on your own?”
Charlie asked, her red-gold brows pulled low in disapproval, as Tess continued
her rapid trauma assessment on the patient.
Parker
took a deep breath and reminded himself that he deserved every degree of
chilliness Charlie wanted to offer. “I am a paramedic. Or I was for five years.
Anyway”—he grabbed a pair of nitrile gloves from the dispenser box on the wall
and slid them into place—“the accident happened less than a block away. Calling
an ambo would’ve been stupid.”
Dropping
her voice enough to keep it from the patient while Tess asked him a few more
questions and examined his leg, Charlie said, “He was in an MVA, and you moved
him without a C-collar. That is
stupid.”
Shock
popped Parker right in the solar plexus. “Seeing as how we were in the middle
of a busy city street and the guy had already been hit by a car once, I thought
getting him out of traffic might be prudent.”
“Parker—”
she started, but he shook his head. As much as he wanted to, arguing with her
was a bad idea for several reasons, none of them small. Anyway, he couldn’t
change what he’d already done.
“Yes, I moved him,” Parker said
quietly. “But I did an RTA in the field. He was alert and reactive, with no
signs of a head or neck injury. He was in a lot of pain and had an open
fracture, and I wanted to get him treated as fast as possible. So, I made a
judgment call.”
If her expression was anything to go
by, Charlie remained highly unimpressed. “So he didn’t present with any outward
signs of a spinal injury,” she argued. “That doesn’t mean he’s fine. There
could be any number of things going on that you can’t see.”
“I know that.” Parker had completed
four years of medical school, nearly seven months of his first internship, and
three of his five years at Station Seventeen as a lead paramedic. He was hardly
a dumbass.
“This
tib-fib is pretty straightforward,” Tess said loudly enough to grab both of
their attention. She’d—damn—already cut away the patient’s jeans to reveal a
nasty break, and splinted the injured leg to keep it stable. “Let’s get head
and neck films to see what we’re dealing with otherwise.” She swung her stare
to the dark-haired nurse who had appeared with the gurney and stuck around for
the ride. “And page Dr. Sheridan, along with whoever’s on call for ortho, stat,
please.”
“I’ve
got the films, Dr. Michaelson,” Charlie said, her eyes on Tess’s very pregnant
belly, and Parker’s throat went tight. But then Tess had stepped out of the
curtain area and the nurse had produced two protective aprons, and Charlie was
shooting the X-rays as easily as she’d order a fucking latte.
“Head
and neck are clear,” she called to Tess a few seconds later, who returned to
the curtain area and looked at the images on the portable monitor, nodding her
agreement.
“It’s
just my…leg that hurts.” The man’s labored grunt punctuated the claim, and
Charlie—Christ, how was it possible that she’d gotten even prettier over the
last six years—softened her gaze, leaning in toward him.
“Do
you have any drug allergies, Mr. Yoshida?”
Another
groan. “No.”
Charlie
looked at the nurse. “Start an IV so we can get some pain meds on board while
we wait for those consults. We’re also going to need to do a full set of films
on that leg for ortho.”
“I
can start the IV,” Parker offered, taking a step toward the supply cart beside
the gurney. Anything would be better than just standing here, useless.
Charlie’s
arm shot out, and even through his shirt and hers, the contact sizzled through
him as if they’d touched intimately, skin on skin. “No. You absolutely cannot.”
“I’m
qualified to do it,” he said. He’d started hundreds of lines. Maybe even
thousands. For God’s sake, Charlie had been there when he’d learned how.
“You’re
a paramedic,” Tess said, clearly on Team Charlie, and also clearly unaware that
he’d tendered his resignation at Station Seventeen to return to medical school
and had been placed here at Remington Mem for his internship, take two. “We
have very capable nurses. You brought Mr. Yoshida in, but we’ve got it from
here, Parker. You can go.”
His
pulse slapped faster. “Actually, I—”
The
curtain moved, the metal loops shushing along the track built in to the ceiling
and stopping the rest of Parker’s words in his windpipe.
“Someone
called for a—whoa, yeah. Surgical consult,” said Jonah Sheridan, who had
appeared behind Tess. Parker recognized him, both from running patients in to
the emergency department for the last five years and the semi-rare occasion
that the staff at Remington Mem came to hang out at The Crooked Angel, where
the first responders from Station Seventeen and the cops from the Thirty-Third
precinct tended to gather.
Sheridan
completed a quick but thorough perusal of the patient’s injury. Parker listened
carefully as Tess gave the guy a brief rundown and the nurse started the IV,
then again as Sheridan looked at the patient.
“What’s
your name, sir?”
“Mike,”
the guy groaned, leaning back against the gurney. “Mike Yoshida.”
“Well,
Mr. Yoshida, I hope you like Jell-O, because you’re going to be here for a day
or two. You definitely need surgery to repair that injury to your leg.” He
turned toward the dark-haired nurse, who Parker belatedly recognized from his
first internship six years ago, and damn. How could he have changed so much
while this place had stood stock-still?
“Kelly,
let’s get some antibiotics in that IV along with the pain meds Dr. Becker
ordered, and call surgery to book an OR.” Dr. Sheridan rattled off a few more
directives—specific medications and dosages, plus a rush on the X-rays Charlie
had already ordered—then shifted to look at Parker, blond brows lifted in
question.
“You’re
the paramedic, right?”
Shit.
“Intern. Parker Drake.” Tugging off his still-spotless gloves, he extended his
hand, trying as hard as he possibly could to un-hear the twin gasps of shock
from Tess and Charlie.
“Huh,”
Jonah said. “A new attending and a paramedic intern. The hits just keep on
comin’. Okay, Mr. Yoshida.” He turned back toward the patient while Parker
battled some shock of his own. Charlie was working
here now? As an attending? Surely, he’d misunderstood. “Let’s get you ready for
surgery, shall we?”
“OR
three is open, Dr. Sheridan,” Kelly said, hanging up the wall-mounted phone.
“They’re expecting you.”
“Perfect.
We can do the films upstairs while I scrub in and get Dr. Mallory up to speed.
Let’s go.”
Sheridan
and Kelly wheeled the gurney from the curtain area. Now would normally be the
time for everyone to scatter, with the patient stable and the handoff to a
surgeon made. But since everything about the current situation was far from
normal, Tess killed the four hundred-pound silence with a long, low exhale.
“I’m
sorry. Did you just say you’re…”
“An
intern. Starting today.” He looked at Charlie, whose expression was impossible
to decipher. “Did Dr. Sheridan say you’re…”
“An
attending. Temporarily, at least. I’m covering Tess’s maternity leave for ten
weeks.”
