Jo McNally - It Started At Christmas…

She was hired to design his house.

Instead she created a home.

Interior designer Amanda Lowery can turn Blake Randall’s crumbling castle into a Gallant Lake showplace. But helping the real estate mogul with his guarded heart and his troubled, orphaned nephew? A much bigger challenge. With demons in her own past, Amanda yearns to help them both heal. But will she find the family and safety she’s craved…or become a Christmas casualty in Blake’s latest business plan?

JO MCNALLYlives in coastal North Carolina with one hundred pounds of dog and two hundred pounds of husband—her slice of the bed is very small. When she’s not writing or reading romance novels (or clinging to the edge of the bed), she can often be found on the back porch sipping wine with friends while listening to great music. If the weather is absolutely perfect, Jo might join her husband on the golf course, where she tends to feel far more competitive than her actual skill level would suggest.

She likes writing stories about strong women and the men who love them. She’s a true believer that love can conquer all if given just half a chance.

You can follow Jo pretty much anywhere on social media (and she’d love it if you did!), but you can start at her website, jomcnallyromance.com

Also by Jo McNally

A Man You Can Trust

Nora’s Guy Next DoorShe’s Far From Hollywood

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

It Started at Christmas

Jo McNally

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09192-3

IT STARTED AT CHRISTMAS

© 2019 Jo McNally

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated to my smart,

talented, funny agent, Veronica Park,

for never giving up on this story of my heart.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Prelude

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Prelude

Three days after Christmas…

B ig fat snowflakes swirled through the air at the cemetery, making everything look fuzzy three days after the worst Christmas e v er. Zachary watched the people walk back to their cars. Big piles of flowers surrounded his mother’s grave.

“Do you think Mom sent the snow?”

“What?” Uncle Blake looked down at Zachary and frowned.

“Maybe…maybe Mom sent the snow. Like a message or something. She taught me how to catch snowflakes on my tongue, like this…” Zachary stuck his tongue out. A white flake landed, melting in a quick, cold burst. Uncle Blake’s face screwed up like he’d just stepped on a Lego, but Zach rushed on. “Remember how much she loved Christmas, Uncle Blake? Maybe she’s still here, but you can’t see her…like the ghost of Christmas future in that story—”

“No.” His uncle’s voice sounded rough and scratchy. “She’s not here, Zach. Your mom isn’t a ghost. She’s just…gone.”

He meant Mom was dead. Zach wasn’t stupid. He knew what dead meant. What he didn’t get was, why wouldn’t people just say it?

Uncle Blake looked up at the snow for a minute. “She loved Christmas so much because it’s for little kids, and she never stopped… She never really grew up.” He knelt in front of Zach, one knee in the snow. “I know this was a lousy holiday, and I’m sorry. I miss her, too. But you’re going to have to be a man now. You need to leave make-believe for the little kids, okay?”

Zach straightened his shoulders. He missed his mom. She was funny, and she gave the best hugs ever. Hugs that made him feel safe, even in the middle of another move or if she was changing boyfriends again. And now he’d never have another hug from her. He blinked his eyes. Would anyone ever hug him like that? Probably not. Hugs were like Christmas—for little kids only. He looked into his uncle’s eyes and nodded.

He wasn’t really sure how to be a man, but if that’s what his uncle wanted, he’d try.

Chapter One

“This has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“What? The shopping or the job?”

Amanda Lowery juggled the bags in her hand, laughing at her cousin’s question.