BLOG TOUR Between Me & You by Kimberly Kincaid

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He hates the corporate world.

She's all business.

Now they have to work together

on the one job that could

make or break them both...

Connor became a flight medic

for one reason, and

one reason only.

To help people.

If he can keep his head down

and his past in the past while he's at it?

Even better.

Until Harlow appears to upend his world

with an offer he can't refuse.

She's calculating. Composed.

Scalpel-sharp.

And she'll stop at nothing to make

her father's business successful.

Even if that means teaming up with Connor

to turn around a failing clinic.

He shouldn't like her.

He definitely shouldn't want her.

But the more they work together

the less he's able to resist.

But Connor's secrets run deep.

Will Harlow's ambition ruin him,

or will she be his salvation?

From USA Today best-seller Kimberly Kincaid comes an enemies-to-lovers story full of emotion and heat. This full-length romance features a muscle-bound veteran flight medic and a smart, tart female CEO finding happily ever after...the hard way.

Previous books in the series (books one and two stand alone, but book 3 contains some series spoilers, so all are best read in order!)

BACK TO YOU (start here!) https://kimberlykincaid.com/back-to-you/

BETTER THAN ME (then here!) https://kimberlykincaid.com/better-than-me/

I've been excited for Connor and Harlow's story and it definitely was worth the wait. They were  combustible the chemistry was spot on, I love them almost as much as Parker and Charlie or Natalie and Jonah. Now I'm all excited for Tess's book (I hope she hooks up with who I think because that would be great). Anyways onto Harlow, all business woman with no time for emotions, and Connor, Air Force medic vet turned best nurse ever. The Remington Memorial board of directors has hired Davenport Industries to fix the mess that is the Marlene Davenport Memorial Clinic finances. The clinic is hemorrhaging money due to the inept director and Harlowe was put in charge to fix it but the board took forever to find a new director. Harlow's father's stipulation is that she co-directs the clinic until they get it back on its feet. The board's pick was Connor who has hundreds of combat medical ops under his belt they feel like he can handle this with no problem.

Connor and Harlow's relationship started off nonexistent, they fought about everything but underlining the disagreements was a strong physical attraction. Ultimately the physical attraction wins out both agreeing that it won't affect work. But the clinic remains in jeopardy and it seems no matter what they do they are destined to fail and at the risk of their relationship hard decisions have to be made.

Overall, this was a great read. I enjoyed it just as much as the other two in the series. I love the whole Remington world, Kincaid writes wonderful characters, hot romances, and emotional stories. As a stand alone or as a series it's a good read.     

 ( PG-13):

 Christ, her need was pouring off her in waves, each one of them slamming into his chest. Without breaking the connection of their mouths, Harlow reached down, yanking his shirt up just far enough to close her fingers around the waistband of his scrubs.  

It took everything he had—and he really meant everything—to capture her fingers with his own and bring them to stillness. “Wait,” he said against her lips.  

“No.” She grasped the hem of her sweater, yanking the heavy material up and over her head. The move made her hair wild around her face, but not enough to cover the emotion there.  

“Yes.”  

Harlow froze, her eyes glinting in the low light. “Connor, I want—”  

“I know what you want, sweetheart. But I want something, too.”  

Her brows gathered in question, and he cupped her face to answer.  

“Let me in, Harlow.” He tipped her chin back, kissing the juncture where her jaw came together by her ear. “If all you want to do tonight is feel, then let me make you feel perfect. Slow down and let me make you feel everything.”

About Kimberly:

Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet and hot and edgy romantic suspense. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as “The Pleather Bomber”, she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a USA Today best-selling author and a 2016 and 2015 RWA RITA® finalist and 2014 Bookseller’s Best nominee who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.

Connect with Kimberly:

Website: https://kimberlykincaid.com

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2V66LBB

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2WzKg8B

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2YzkLWU

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2JRt3WT

Stay up to date with Kimberly by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2WwXAKW

COVER REVEAL Between Me & You by Kimberly Kincaid

Buy Links:

🚑 Amazon https://amzn.to/2li1IkL

🚑 iBooks http://bit.ly/betweenmeyouiBooks

🚑 Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/BetweenMeYouBN

🚑 Kobo bit.ly/BetweenMeAndYouKobo

🚑 Goodreads http://bit.ly/betweenmeyouGR

Blurb:

He hates the corporate world.

She's all business.

Now they have to work together

on the one job that could

make or break them both...

Connor became a flight medic

for one reason, and

one reason only.

To help people.

If he can keep his head down

and his past in the past while he's at it?

Even better.

Until Harlow appears to upend his world

with an offer he can't refuse.

She's calculating. Composed.

Scalpel-sharp.

And she'll stop at nothing to make

her father's business successful.

Even if that means teaming up with Connor

to turn around a failing clinic.

He shouldn't like her.

He definitely shouldn't want her.

But the more they work together

the less he's able to resist.

But Connor's secrets run deep.

Will Harlow's ambition ruin him,

or will she be his salvation?

From USA Today best-seller Kimberly Kincaid comes an enemies-to-lovers story full of emotion and heat. This full-length romance features a muscle-bound veteran flight medic and a smart, tart female CEO finding happily ever after...the hard way.

⭐️⭐️ PREORDER BONUS CONTENT SPECIAL ⭐️⭐️

Because this was so popular with the last book, I'm going to do it again! Everyone who preorders BETWEEN ME & YOU and signs up with this form will get a bonus scene via email!

✅ Use this form to sign up. http://bit.ly/BetweenPreorderDeal If you don't fill this out, you won't get the scene! So make sure you do.

✅ Please note: I can't double check this for you later, to see if you signed up or to make sure you typed your email address in properly, so please make sure you keep track of that and double check your sign-ups before clicking submit!

✅ Bonus material will NOT be available to anyone else--ONLY preorder people--and it won’t be released at any time in 2019, or possibly beyond. I try really hard to keep exclusive stuff, well...exclusive. So, if you want it? Sign up now! You may not get another chance to get this scene (DIFFERENT than the last bonus scene!)

Who's ready for Connor and Harlow?!

Previous books in the series (books one and two stand alone, but book 3 contains some series spoilers, so all are best read in order!)

BACK TO YOU (start here!) https://kimberlykincaid.com/back-to-you/

BETTER THAN ME (then here!) https://kimberlykincaid.com/better-than-me/

Excerpt (not PG-13):

 Connor hadn’t even made it more than a few steps over the threshold of the clinic before he’d run into a crush of people in various states of injury or illness. Most of the waiting room chairs were occupied, and after getting one woman an ice pack she should’ve received when she’d been triaged and sending a badly bleeding teenager directly to the ED to get the gash in his arm tended to by a surgeon, Connor finally moved past the intake desk and headed to the office in the back of the building.

  

The door was shut, but the blinds on the window beside it weren’t, allowing him to see inside. Harlow sat primly behind the sleek, walnut desk, a pair of red-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she pored over something on the laptop screen in front of her.

  

Her chin was tilted slightly downward, her gaze focused and serious, and for one bright, impulsive instant, Connor wondered what she looked like when she laughed. With her hair all mussed from sleep. When she was caught up in a moment of pure, hot pleasure, and Jesus H. Christ on a Pop-Tart, was he insane? Of all the times to think with his dick, now was probably the most inopportune. He needed to be completely on guard around this woman, not get all gee-I-wonder about what she looked like halfway to orgasm.

  

Damn, he’d bet she was really fucking pretty when she laughed, though.

  

Clearing his throat, Connor forced his spine to full attention and his cock to stand down, then placed a sharp trio of knocks on the door in front of him. Harlow’s ice-blue eyes widened as she looked up from her desk, but only by a fraction, and by the time she’d waved him over the threshold, any traces of surprise had disappeared as if they’d never existed.

  

“Mr. Bradshaw,” she said, and oh yeah, no. They had to nip that in the bud right freaking now.

  

“No mister,” he corrected. Guard up. “It’s not really my thing.”

  

Harlow nodded. “Lieutenant, then.”

  

Oh, the shit Declan and the rest of the guys in his unit would give him for that would last days on end. “No lieutenant, either.” Connor shook his head. “Retired military personnel don’t usually go by their rank. It’s kind of considered bad form.”

  

“I apologize.” Her voice softened by the smallest degree. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” 

“None taken. Connor is fine.”

  

Just like that, Harlow’s all-business demeanor settled right back into place. “But what will you have the staff call you, then?”

  

Connor blinked. “Well, my first name has worked up ’til now with everyone in the ICU and ED. I don’t really see a reason to change that,” he said. In fact, he hadn’t even given it a thought.

  

“You want everyone to call you by your first name,” Harlow said slowly, as if he’d just suggested the earth was flat and they should all go cannonballing over the edge. “The medical staff, the patients. The members of the board?”

  

He bit back the temptation to tell her he didn’t want to be anything-Bradshaw, especially with the members of the board. He wasn’t some uptight VP who needed to lord his power over other people. “Sure. Why not?”

  

If the look on Harlow’s face was anything to go by, the answer to Connor’s question was about to arrive adamantly and in list form. “Well, for one, you’re a director now.”

“It’s just a title, like mister or lieutenant,” Connor argued. He knew he should at least try to keep the heat in his veins away from his voice—if he made a big deal about his name, her radar would surely start to ping, full-bore. But come on. Was she seriously trying to tell him how to have his own staff address him? “What people call me isn’t going to affect how I do the job.”

  

“The title still matters,” she replied. That she’d controlled her words with near-surgical precision didn’t make them any less of an argument. She gestured to the hallway over his shoulder, leading out to the clinic beyond. “All those physician’s assistants and nurses and staff members out there? You’re their boss now.”

  

Oh, here we fucking go. “So? That doesn’t make me better than they are.”

  

Harlow surprised him by conceding. Sort of. “No, it doesn’t. But you’re still in a position of power. Business hierarchies exist for a reason, and titles are part of that. How your staff perceives you is going to have a direct impact on your ability to manage them.”

   

Finally, one (and only one) thing on which they could agree. “I know I’m kind of new to this side of things, but I promise, my ability to manage the staff will be just fine. And since they are mine to manage as the director of ops”—he made sure his tone turned it into enough of a riiiiight? to make it a point and not flat-out provocation before adding—“Connor it is." 

 He gestured to the center of the scrubs he purposely hadn’t changed out of, and after a beat, Harlow sat back against her office chair 

“Suit yourself, I suppose. At any rate, I didn’t expect to see you down here so soon.” 

“What can I say?” Connor shrugged amiably. “I’m full of surprises.” 

“That is an understatement.”

About Kimberly:

Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet and hot and edgy romantic suspense. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as “The Pleather Bomber”, she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a USA Today best-selling author and a 2016 and 2015 RWA RITA® finalist and 2014 Bookseller’s Best nominee who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.

Connect with Kimberly:

Website: https://kimberlykincaid.com

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2V66LBB

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2WzKg8B

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2YzkLWU

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2JRt3WT

Stay up to date with Kimberly by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2WwXAKW

ARC REVIEW Back to You by Kimberly Kincaid

His second chance is his only chance

Parker Drake wants exactly one thing—to fulfill his dream of becoming a doctor. Between his reputation as a rule-breaker and the six years that have passed since his first internship ended in disaster, he knows he’s only getting one shot at a second chance. He’ll do anything to put the past behind him and reach his goal…including work with the gorgeous ex-wife he’s never gotten over losing.

All work and no play make surgeon Charleston Becker a very happy woman. But when she’s tasked with mentoring her ex-husband through his second chance as an intern, her signature calm is put to the test. She’s not interested in re-hashing the heartbreaking circumstances that ended their marriage, and the six years that have passed haven’t made Parker less reckless. The last thing she’s willing to do is trust him—even if she does find him sexier than ever.

But familiarity breeds forgiveness, which then becomes a passion that threatens the careers Parker and Charlie have worked for. Can they turn their second chance into a happy ending? Or is history bound to repeat itself?

This steamy contemporary medical romance can be read as a standalone.

This is the first book for Kimberly Kincaid's newest series in the same world as her previous Station Seventeen series. I love it when author do that, instead of one giant series a whole bunch all independent of each other but still interconnected. I love second chance romance stories and Parker and Charlie have a doozy of a history. 

This is an emotional story about forgiveness, second chances, and taking a chance when you know it's worth the risk. I loved Parker and Charlie they balanced each other out well, Parker is a risk taker and a rule breaker while Charlie is straightlaced and by the book. This was a great introduction to the series and the other characters and I can't wait for Jonah's book.
Overall, it was a quick and easy read, very emotional. It was well paced and steamy hot in all the right places. If you haven't picked up Kimberly Kincaid before this is a great book to start at.   

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.”

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