New York Times & USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bybee was raised in Washington State, but after graduating high school, she moved to Southern California in hopes of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full-time and has penned novels Wife by Wednesday, Married by Monday, and Not Quite Dating. Bybee lives with her husband and two teenage sons in Southern California.
NOT QUITE ENOUGH
The Not Quite Series, Book Three
Montlake Romance, Contemporary
October 08, 2013, First Edition
Paperback & Kindle
“Bybee’s gift for creating unforgettable romances cannot be ignored.”
–RT BOOK REVIEWS, TOP PICK, 4 ½ STARS
Monica Mann has made it her life’s work to save lives. After an earthquake and tsunami hit the shores of Jamaica, she volunteers her trauma skills with Borderless Nurses. Calculating and methodical, Monica creates order out of whatever chaos she finds.
Until she finds the perpetually barefoot, impossibly masculine Trent Fairchild. No one can pin him down. No, really. He’s a pilot and manages a small fleet of choppers on his adopted island home. Hopelessly drawn to one another, they manage to slip away from the wreckage to get a little closer. And they get a lot closer than expected when aftershocks from the earthquake trap them in their own life-or-death scenario. Paradise has brought them together. Now will it tear them apart?
Monica glanced up at the gray skies and frowned. “So, Trent,” she began again. “Are you the only one shuffling the foreign medical staff around the island?”
He shook his head. “There are a few others. Why?”
He kept his eyes on where he walked and avoided her questioning gaze.
He didn’t buy that. “Just wondering?”
“Seems like anyone could drive me to the clinic.”
He walked her behind the hospital and up a short path to where his helicopter waited. “Anyone could drive you.”
She hesitated when she saw her ride. “I thought you said you were driving me.”
“I am. After a short flight to where my car is parked.”
She turned a full circle. “Can’t we just drive?”
Trent moved in front of her and removed his sunglasses. “It’s a short flight back to the airport, then a thirty minute drive. That’s if the roads are cleared.”
“Can’t we just—” Her ice blue eyes never left his.
“I didn’t kill you the first time, Monica. I won’t this time either.”
“It was better thinking you volunteered to take me instead of being the only person capable of it.”
Actual fear hid behind her eyes. “Why’s that?”
“I prefer flirting to flying.”
A slow, easy smile met his lips. He knew then irrevocably that Monica thought about him at some point during her short stint on the island.
He replaced his sunglasses and reached for her hands. “How about a little of both?”