Who Wants to Marry a Doctor: Love Match

By Abigail Sharpe

She has four men to choose from...

 

When her pediatric hospital faces a financial crisis, Dr. Sabrina Bankhead is willing to do anything to save it and the children it serves. Agreeing to be the bachelorette for a TV fundraiser seems like the best way to help, until the single mom discovers the host is far more appealing than any of the contestants. But falling for Quinn would ruin the competition and bankrupt the hospital. Plus, his restless nature sets off all of Sabrina's warning bells, which makes him one big walking Off Limits sign with flashing lights and blue eyes. 

 

…so why does she want the one who's completely off limits?

 

While back in the States recovering from a bomb blast in a combat zone, investigative journalist Quinn Donnelly lets his sister talk him into hosting a charity dating show against his better judgment. As a lifelong nomad with a driving need to uncover the injustices in the world, Quinn isn't looking to give up his work or settle down. Yet he's blindsided by the irresistible Dr. Bankhead, and suddenly wondering if he could exchange the biggest story of his career for a chance at love and life in a small town.

 

Who Wants to Marry a Doctor is a hot and sexy standalone romance and book two in the Love Match Series. It was previously published as volume two in the With This Ring Series by Forever Yours. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abigail Sharpe
• Release date: Sep 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9798224493890

Abigail Sharpe

Abigail is a Boston-bred Yankee now eating grits and saying "y'all" in North Central Florida. Technical writer by day, she doesn't don a cape at night, but can instead be found writing passionate and playful contemporary romance. When she's not writing, she can be found wearing a corset and singing bawdy songs with Just Desserts, an a cappella musical comedy act, at places that won't throw them out. All hail low altos! Abigail lives with her husband, two kids, and one crazy princess puppy. You can keep up with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AbigailSharpeBooks on find her on Goodreads. She has a website, too, but it's horribly outdated, and she'd rather write books than update the HTML. Only go there if you want to sign up for her newsletter, which she publishes sporadically.

Book preview

Other books in Love Match series:

Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?

Other series

Just Add Peaches:

Moonshine and Magnolias

Cupcake of the Month

The Prince Who Loved Me

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Contents

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18.

Chapter 19.

Chapter 20.

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22.

Chapter 23.

Chapter 24.

Chapter 25.

Chapter 26.

Chapter 27.

Chapter 28.

Chapter 29.

Next up!

Chapter 1.

Sabrina sniffed the chocolate-shell shot glass filled with a mysterious amber liquid. The alcohol fumes were strong, but she identified a bit of caramel underneath. She snuck a glance at her sister, who poured drinks behind the smooth oak counter of the bar while watching Sabrina and the drink. What’s in this?

Just try it, Bree. Melora answered, the gleam in her brown eyes betraying nothing but eager anticipation.

When her sister looked like that, Sabrina knew better than to argue. She took another deep breath, and finding nothing new or offensive, popped the whole thing in her mouth, chocolate shot glass and all.

Liquid heaven.

By that look on your face, I’d say I won the jackpot, Melora commented.

Mmmmm. Sabrina chewed the drink, the flavors lingering on her tongue. Sweet and salty.

Her sister gave a fist-pump and pushed back her hair. It’s called Salted Caramel Delight. So it’s tasty? You like it? You’re always a good guinea pig for something different.

On second thought, I don’t want different. Sabrina wiped her mouth with a napkin. Change is bad. Very, very bad. Like the massive change about to happen in her life.

She swiveled on the stool and took in the early crowd at Shy Ann’s. Dark paneling on the walls created a warm environment and the scent of hops and chocolate permeated the air.

Music from the sound system competed with the shrieks and yells from patrons riding the mechanical bull or chatting around the tables.

The familiar after-work scene was usually a comfort, but not today. Sabrina rested her chin in the palms of her hands and groaned. I can’t believe I got talked into this. But at least this guy isn’t a total stranger, since we know his sister.

Melora shook her head, her hoop earrings catching the dim light. I kept saying don’t do it. I’m a bartender. Bartenders give the best advice. You should know that by now.

I should have listened. I tried to explain my lack of free time to Dr. McMichaels, but he was very persuasive.

Oh, no. Did he use those four little words that convinces you to do anything? her sister asked with a roll of her eyes. You’d probably dye your hair purple if he said those words. Run with the bulls in Pamplona while covered in honey. Go on dates with men to raise money. Oh, wait. She put down the glass she was drying with a solid thunk. That is what you’re doing.

Think of the children. Sabrina slumped in her stool. Gets me every time. She peeked through the crowd of patrons on the dance floor to watch the entrance. The large wooden doors of Shy Ann’s remained closed. Any minute now, the hot-shot world-traveled reporter- slash-host was going to come into the bar and unleash havoc on her life.

You need to learn how to say no. You barely have enough time keeping up with your patients and your kid, let alone any man you date. Melora poured some vodka and cranberry juice into a glass. But, hey. Nothing says you have to continue with the relationships when the show is over. You can go back to hanging out with me every night once Noah goes to bed. Unless you want another relationship?

Sabrina grimaced. She was done with relationships for a while. Oh, no. I don’t need another man whining about how he’s second in my life. Again. I’ve had enough of that already.

Melora stopped pouring and studied Sabrina from the top of her dark brown hair and down until the bar hid the rest of her body. Why you, anyway?

Gee, thanks. Sabrina stuck out her tongue.

No, I mean it. Why you and not another doctor?

She flicked another glance at the closed doors. I’m the only one who’s not married, engaged, or otherwise taken. She slapped her palms on the bar. Okay, let’s talk about something else. At least until Mr. Quinn Donnelly gets here.

Sounds good to me. Watch this. Melora stood poised with a vodka bottle in one hand and Kahlua in the other, her lips pursed in concentration. She flipped the vodka around her back and turned, pouring the White Russian into a chocolate glass in a juggling act without dropping anything and ending by placing the bottles on one side of the drink. She slid the drink tray to the other end of the bar where a server intercepted it and carried it away.

Sabrina applauded along with other patrons seated near them. You’ve been practicing.

A plaid-shirted cowboy scooted next to Sabrina and leaned over the bar. Hey, Dr. Bankhead!

Yes? Sabrina and her sister answered in unison. She grinned and raised her eyebrows, as if daring Melora to comment.

The mind doctor, he clarified.

I win! Melora cheered, raising her bar towel in triumph, which she then flicked at Sabrina. And why do you always answer when it’s clearly not a pediatric question?

Because it’s fun. And it annoys you.

Melora made a face at her and turned to the cowboy. What can I do for you, sugar?

I’ve got a problem, he stated.

Sabrina reached for the rope next to the wall, ringing a bell that echoed throughout the restaurant. Almost immediately, the hum of the patrons quieted down. Jed has a problem! she announced.

The doctor is in! the crowd yelled, then settled back to listen.

There’s this girl, Jed said. And I think I like her. But I’m afraid to ask her out.

A shaft of summer sunlight streaked through the bar as someone opened the door.

Almost everyone else stayed riveted to Jed’s tale of woe, but Sabrina turned to look at the newcomer, dread and anticipation warring for dominance in her stomach.

Suddenly the favor she was doing for her boss didn’t seem so bad.

Sabrina studied the man as he looked around the bar and holy hell, what a study he was.

Thick dark hair framed a chiseled face that sat atop broad shoulders and a long, lean body. He stayed near the door, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm, observing everything before moving deeper inside, his gait a bit stiff. That wasn’t a surprise, considering what his sister had told her about what he’d gone through in the past few months. The pale green dress shirt under his leather jacket screamed Visitor! just as loudly as if he’d been holding a map.

Jed continued telling Melora about his women troubles, but Sabrina tuned him out to keep her eyes on Quinn as he cautiously made his way between tables and around the empty dance floor. Damn, what a good looking man! Even in the low light, his primal maleness caught more attention than just hers, but he didn’t seem to notice any of it. His blue eyes met and held hers while she held her breath and waited for him.

Melora hoisted herself on top of the bar and cupped her hands to yell. Ladies!

Sabrina wrested her gaze back to her sister, running her fingers through her long hair and shaking it over her shoulders to give it a bit of style before Quinn got any closer. She had missed the question, but knew Melora could answer it perfectly. No one was better at distilling advice.

Even without looking, she could feel Quinn’s approach.

Do we want hot guys who put us second? Melora asked her audience.

No! the female patrons answered.

Will we put up with cheaters and liars just to have money and fast cars?

No!

If a man treats us right, do we care what his bank account looks like?

No! they yelled again.

Jed, stop being a wuss and ask her out. Be yourself. Because if all she’s interested in is speeding cars and a model boyfriend, then she’s not the right woman for you. Or any other sane man. Melora raised her arms in victory. The doctor has spoken!

Cheers followed this pronouncement as Jed fished around in his pockets and pulled out a coin, then flipped it into a jar under a sign that read Psychiatric Help, 5 ¢. The jar was already filled about halfway with shining nickels. Thanks, Melora.

Anytime, darlin’. She waved her towel at him. Now go do something about it. She jumped back to the floor while Jed returned to his table and pulled out his wallet.

Sabrina got a pleasant whiff of cedar and leather a second before Quinn spoke. Dr. Bankhead, I presume?

Melora slapped her hand down in front of Sabrina and slid half her body over the bar, cutting off Sabrina’s view while she gave Quinn a blatant perusal and a slow smile. You must mean me. What can I do for you, handsome?

Sabrina held up her hands, giving herself time to calm the surge of attraction. Hey, if you want to take my place on this dating game, be my guest.

Oh, hell no. Her sister heaved a melodramatic sigh, then grabbed some empty glasses off the countertop. Once she was behind the man, she grinned and fanned herself while she mouthed He’s hot!

Sabrina held out her hand and Quinn grasped it in his. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

His skin was warm, though the texture on the side of his hand was much rougher than normal manual labor would make it. She tried not to be overtly curious about the injuries he sustained while on assignment in Afghanistan. Besides, the bar was too dark and he shifted too quickly for her to study the healing skin. She couldn’t see any other visible wounds, but his super-straight posture definitely covered some secrets.

Melora placed a Guinness in front of Quinn. He accepted it with a nod and inhaled the hops scent before taking a swallow. Thanks. This is a perfect end to the long flight and drive over here. My sister can get chatty about ranching and horses and hayrides. Quinn put the helmet down and took another swallow.

Sabrina snorted and leaned forward to whisper, and got another taste of his purely masculine scent. Oh, boy. You do know where you are, right?

I’m in a bar. Bars I can do. He took the seat next to her and raised his hands to the lapels of his jacket, then put them down. I don’t know exactly what your producer wants me to do, but I know it centers around you.

You’re here to help my sister prostitute herself to raise money, Melora chimed in.

Quinn raised his dark eyebrows. Excuse me?

Said the woman who’s been married four times, Sabrina retorted. Come on, Melora. No one wants to support a specialty in an area that won’t bring name recognition. Besides, going out with all these different men has got to be more fun than sitting at home every night with a pint of ice cream. Not that she really believed it, but she had to say something to defend her decision to do the show.

Well, I don’t know. It depends on the ice cream.

Please tell me you were speaking metaphorically, Quinn said to Melora.

She was. Sabrina glared at her sister. Don’t you have work to do?

Melora left them alone, flipping a bottle as she listened to a drink order.

The producer said she’d try to stop by tonight, too, Sabrina said. Seeing her could wait until tomorrow as far as Sabrina was concerned. The longer she could put off this show, the better. She cringed, thinking of its name. Who Wants to Marry a Doctor? It was cheesier than her nephew’s hands after making pizza. And it wasn’t like she was actually going to get married.

With his cool blue eyes and wavy black hair, Quinn would have made a drool-worthy contestant. There were four men to date. Four! Which was ironic, considering the last guy she dated broke things off with her because she was busy all the time. So did the one before that.

And the one before that.  

A woman holding a stack of papers elbowed her way between them at the bar and Sabrina had to lean back to see Quinn. Typical Rachel Belmont behavior. Her large bag brushed Quinn’s side and he pressed his lips together, the skin around them turning white.

The woman didn’t notice. Quinn Donnelly? I’m Rachel Belmont, from WCHB. Something came up with the producer, so I’m here instead. Hi.

Oh, great. Sabrina forgot Rachel worked at the TV station. She had nothing against the woman, but Rachel harbored a grudge against her from high school. She had never forgiven Sabrina for ... well, anything. Somehow everything wrong in Rachel’s life was always Sabrina’s fault. Probably even the obvious dark roots in her blond hair.

I sent all of this to you in an email, but here are the files on the men Dr. Bankhead will be dating. I also have the script for the first show. Rachel held a stack of papers and some folders out to Quinn. The other stack she flopped behind her on the bar and into a small puddle of water.

Whatever. Paper dries easily. Sabrina picked it up, but Quinn noticed and handed her his dry one.

Oops. Sorry. Rachel offered Sabrina an insincere smile and tucked her hair behind an ear. Since neither one of you have ever been in a show like this before, I thought it would be a good idea for you to have the scripts early. They’re still being tweaked, but at least you’ll get the idea.

Thanks, Rachel, Quinn said, flipping through the pages. Tell me how the fund raising part of this will work.

Melora muttered something at Quinn’s question. Sabrina didn’t try to decipher it.

Rachel glanced at her before turning back to Quinn. The station editors will create a half-hour show from the footage of each date. Then after we air the footage on Friday, viewers will donate money over the weekend for the man who they like best for the doctor. The one who raises the least amount of money by the time we air Sunday with the results doesn’t get to go on a second date. Then we do it again with only three men.

Sounds easy enough. And my part will be to introduce the men and guide the telecast through each date. Quinn confirmed.

Right. She put a hand on his leather-covered biceps and lowered her voice when she spoke. Let me know if you need help with the lines or anything.

Quinn nodded.

Anything at all.

I will.

She waited a moment longer, then went to sit at a table. Sabrina watched her leave, then looked back at Quinn, who wore an amused smile. Close, personal friend of yours? he asked.

Wow, how did you figure that one out? You must be some kind of investigator.

Sabrina twisted her mouth and he gave a rich chuckle, the vibrations warming her skin. Oh, yeah. She could get used to that. If she really were in the market for dating someone.

I don’t know what the people at the show have told you, Quinn absently brushed his thumb down his jawline, but I’m used to thoroughly knowing the subjects I write about.

Right. Sabrina nodded, mesmerized by the action. She said you’d be here following me and the men around for a few days before the show starts. I’m going to visit some of my patients in the hospital this weekend, but I’m in the office all next week.

I’d like to get to know you on a personal level, as well as a professional one if that’s okay. I find people respond to a glimpse inside someone’s life better than information anyone can find with a bit of research or looking online. Maybe I can buy you dinner.

From anyone else that would sound like a come on, but Sabrina had read Quinn’s well- written and thought-provoking articles and figured he was telling the truth. She didn’t have to share her innermost thoughts, but allowing him to tag along would let him see those glimpses.

Well, tell you what. There’s a special little man waiting for his mama to come home and give him snuggle kisses, so why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? You can meet my whole family.

Sounds great.

My sister is leaving work in about half an hour and then we’ll head over.

Quinn glanced at his watch. I need to settle things at my rental place first, so can I meet you there?

Absolutely. Sabrina gave him her address and watched as he exited the bar, her thoughts drifting more toward the lascivious than professional. Quinn already had several plusses going for him. He hadn’t batted an eye when she mentioned Noah. He was willing to change plans if the situation needed it. And most important, no jewelry decorated the third finger of his left hand.

Not that she was interested. No way. Even though she lived with her parents, her own work schedule and being a mom kept her busy, and this dating game would eat up a huge chunk of her time. But it was nice to dream.

Where did Hottie McHotPants go? Melora slid onto the empty stool next to her.

Don’t worry, you’ll see him soon enough. I need to call Mom and tell her to set another place at the table. She removed her phone, but felt her sister’s glare. When she glanced over, a frown covering Melora’s mouth and her eyebrows drawn down. What?

Bree, you never bring men home to meet Noah on the first date. Or the tenth, for that matter. It took you five months to bring the last guy around.

This isn’t a date. It’s an interview. And besides, it’s Meagan’s brother, not some random guy.

Melora tapped her shiny red fingernails on the bar. I saw how you looked at him.

Me and every other woman in this place. Did you see him? The man is gorgeous. Doesn’t mean I’m going to jump him.

Not tonight, anyway.

Stop it, Sabrina, she told herself. Not tonight. Not ever. Not until Noah was out of the house. Sex was messy and involved and overrated anyway. It was only eleven more years. No problem.

Ugh.

* * *

Quinn stood in the middle of his rented apartment, its bland walls and lack of decoration almost a duplicate of the garage apartment he rented from his brother Merrick. Except for some pictures of his family, there was no need to personalize his living space when he was never home. His time in Harbin would be like other assignments.

With Sabrina’s big brown eyes and heart-shaped face, she looked more like a child playing dress up than a doctor. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall. He’d loom over her during the TV show.

He shrugged out of his jacket, the familiar annoyance at his wounds curling his gut.

Though he could have rented a car, the sway of a motorcycle was easier on his body, and that meant wearing leather. It had been hot at Shy Ann’s, but his range of motion issues and flares of pain from his side would have made taking off his jacket a circus act. Here he could take his time and not fend off offers of help. He put it across the arm of the sofa and went into the small kitchen.

A knock sounded followed by someone calling his name. Quinn? his sister’s voice called through the door.

Yeah, I’m here. He maneuvered around the sofa to let her in. She carried a couple of those recyclable grocery bags. Let me get that.

She clutched the bags tighter and nodded to the door with her chin. No, you go get all the boxes you shipped to me. They’re in my car. She stopped moving, concern flicking across her face. Oh, unless you can’t?

He squelched his annoyance and gave Meagan a peck on the cheek. I’m cleared for all light physical activity. The scent of chicken coming out of the bag made his stomach growl as he headed toward the car. He had planned on getting a sandwich or something at Shy Ann’s, but one look at Sabrina’s heart-shaped face had him thinking other thoughts. Like how it was a shame he should respect the fact that she was going out on dates to get married instead of wanting to jump into bed with her.

Meagan had finished unpacking the bags by the time he brought up his few boxes. The small kitchen of the rented apartment was perfect for his needs. The one-bedroom was right on Harbin’s Main Street, complete with a large, comfortable sofa, a queen-sized bed and television, and a view of oak and spruce trees in the courtyard.

Thanks for the grub. And the ride from the airport so I could pick up the bike.

She gave him a hug. I’m so glad you’re here. Merrick kept me updated on your healing progress, but now I get to keep you close by, since you’re only one town away.

Ah-ha! So that’s why you volunteered me for this, Quinn teased. You really wanted to keep an eye on me.

That was a nice benefit. But no. She leaned against the green-topped counter. I thought you’d make a great host. I couldn’t stop talking about you when the producer and main doctor guy came to the Crescent Ridge to get the basics on how we set up the dating schedules for the singles retreat.

So you could keep an eye on me.

Yes. So I could keep an eye on you. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. I was really worried about you.

He hugged her back. I know. But I’m fine. At least on the surface. Underneath was a whole other story. Some sights and smells and sounds made his brain think he was back in the desert, back under attack with fire and bullets and no escape.

She sniffled a little and released her hold on him. Okay. I have to get back to the ranch. I’m playing guitar for the hayride tonight. You want to come along?

I’m having dinner with Sabrina and her family.

Isn’t she fabulous? Meagan gathered her bags. Both her and Melora.

Yeah. She’s really great, Quinn deadpanned. He opened the door for his sister. You have fun tonight.

Yeah, Meagan grinned as she swept over the threshold. You, too.

Once she was gone, he opened a box and stared at the tennis balls and resistance bands he used for physical therapy, then closed it again. Thinking about Sabrina was much more entertaining. He hadn’t expected his body’s response to her or her sweet peppermint and lavender scent. With the hundreds of people he met as part of his travels, attraction to a woman was bound to happen sometimes, but he learned long ago mixing pleasure with his assignments was never a good idea. Those internal feelings should have been shielded. Apparently not.

His stomach growled again. Fine. Let’s see how good of a sister Meagan really is, he said to the open air as he went into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door.

Meagan was the best sister in the world. The top shelf had a gallon of milk and several bottles of beer. Other shelves held butter and cheese and meats and the chicken that had tickled his nose. He spied a loaf of bread on the counter, then took out some roast beef and mustard to make a sandwich.

He shoved a bite of the food in his mouth while he set up his computer. It traveled with him on the plane. It traveled with him to Afghanistan. It traveled with him anytime he left on assignment.

Once he was satisfied with the strong Internet connection, he poked around a little about the area. Shy Ann’s was a big draw for both Harbin and Little Falls, where Meagan lived, with live music and dancing on the weekends. He clicked through the pictures posted online and spotted his sister riding a mechanical bull in one, and both Melora and Sabrina in a bunch of them.

His curiosity about the town satisfied, he entered the doctor’s name in the search engine. For purely professional reasons. Leaving his curiosity unsatisfied had never been one of his stronger abilities.

As far as he could tell, the Bankheads had lived in Harbin for a few generations and aside from college and medical school, Sabrina had lived in the town her entire life. Her whole life.

That was something Quinn couldn’t fathom. What a complete contrast to his world travels and calling his brother’s garage apartment home. Change. Adventure. The unknown. That’s why he loved his job, loved the uncertainty of what each day would bring, the crazy situations and learning about different cultures. Not so much the getting blown up, though.

He had felt it when she studied his wrist in the bar. Could she understand why he would put himself in that environment? He wondered what her assessing eyes would feel like tonight at dinner.

Oh, crap. Dinner. He checked his watch, then turned off the computer and headed out of his apartment to walk her house. Thank goodness it was summer and he could leave the jacket behind, even though it wasn’t the humidity-soaked air of the south.

Everything was close together in downtown Harbin, enclosed by the view of the mountain range looming over the streets. If he stayed at any of the rentals on ranch properties, he’d be at least fifteen miles away or more from everything. The benefit of this particular small town. So was the friendliness and curiosity of the customers at the market, who greeted him with smiles when he stopped to buy a bouquet for Sabrina’s mother. Everyone stared at him with curiosity, but he expected that.

He left the store and took to the picturesque streets. Families strolled together, calling greetings to their neighbors amid the sounds of children playing and dogs barking. It was like a throwback to the fifties. No way was this a place he’d ever want to live. Too quiet.

Sabrina lived a few blocks off Main. Everything in this town was a few blocks off Main.

Sabrina’s section was named after trees. Maple, Spruce, Cedar...

Ah, here it