Katlyn Duncan - Wrapped Up for Christmas

KATLYN DUNCANgrew up in a small town in Massachusetts with her head always in the clouds. Working as a scientist for most of her adult life, she enjoyed breaking down the hows and whys of life. This translated into her love of stories and getting into the minds of her characters. Currently, she has published twelve books with HQ Digital and has ghostwritten over forty novels.

When she’s not writing, she’s obsessing over many (many) television series. She currently resides in Connecticut with her husband, kiddo, and adorable senior citizen dog (who will forever be a puppy at heart!).

‘Perfect read … I couldn’t put it down’

‘I will definitely be reading more from this author again.’

‘Engaging and thought provoking.’

‘I was completely glued from page one and didn’t want to put it down.’

‘Gripping. Thrilling. On the edge of your seat exciting. I absolutely loved it.’

‘This story kept me guessing.’

‘Perfect for someone who wants a quick read that’s also gripping’

‘A thoroughly heart-warming and enjoyable read’

‘Gripping, funny and emotional’

‘A delightful read’

The Life After Trilogy: Soul Taken

The Life After Trilogy: Soul Possessed

The Life After Trilogy: Soul Betrayed

This Summer

This Christmas

Darkest Dawn

As You Lay Sleeping

Six Little Secrets

The Sisters’ Secrets: Rose

The Sisters’ Secrets: Reen

The Sisters’ Secrets: Pearl

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019

Copyright © Katlyn Duncan 2019

Katlyn Duncan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, 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 HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © October 2019 ISBN: 9780008364892

Version: 2019-08-26

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Readers Love Katlyn Duncan

Also by Katlyn Duncan

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

Acknowledgements

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

For anyone who can get the Christmas feels no matter what time of year or how hot it is outside. This book is for you.

The Christmas song blaring from the pocket of the man in front of Angie was the last straw. He turned off the ringer of his phone, but that was it for her. She hadn’t even reached the end of the jet bridge before heat surged behind her eyes for the dozenth time that afternoon.

Don’t you dare cry, Angie Martinelli.

At least not until she’d buried herself under the covers in the room she hadn’t slept in since high school.

A day ago, she had lain in her queen-sized bed with eight hundred thread count sheets. When she wasn’t in her apartment, she was in Brett’s California king, treating it like a twin. She recalled the firmness of his body, snuggling up against him—

‘No,’ she hissed, startling the family of four next to her. The parents tucked their children closer to them, away from the crazy woman talking to herself. ‘Sorry.’

The mother grabbed onto her daughter’s backpack and steered her into the airport.

Angie tried to take a calming breath, wanting to push Brett and his cheating self to the farthest reaches of her mind. She gripped her rolling carry-on bag and adjusted her handbag on her shoulder.

With her belongings accounted for, she swiped away a stray tear threatening to fall and dipped her chin against her chest as she made her way through the waiting area toward baggage claim. Angie was determined to keep everyone out of her business – even strangers. She was adamant that they weren’t going to see the tortured expression she wore on her face. As an only child, she prided herself on being a strong and independent woman.

Or at least, she used to.

Once she reached the food court, the scent of greasy cuisine filled her nose. Her stomach ached for something to eat; she had waited too long on the flight to get one of the prepared meals and they were sold out. Nothing on the plane went her way. She sat behind someone who reclined their chair the entire time and the three complimentary bags of chips did nothing to ease her emotions as her mind and stomach churned across the country.

Angie stopped in front of a pub and hesitated, thinking of her bank account. Dollar signs filled her vision for the charges she’d had to pay for the three extra suitcases she’d brought with her. Only one more deposit would come through her account for her severance pay and then nothing. She shook her head, her long dark hair swooping across her face. It clung to her damp cheeks as she tucked the stray strands behind her ears before heading to baggage claim. She could wait to eat until she arrived at home. No doubt her mom would have prepared a feast for her already.

As she followed the signs toward the first level of the airport, she managed to hold back the dam of tears that threatened to break. She was doing well until she saw a handwritten sign on lined paper which read ‘Aunty’ taped to the huge belly of her best friend standing next to the unmoving carousel.

Tears burst from her eyes as Angie sagged into Reese’s arms and sobbed against her shoulder. The ugly, snotty cry that only a best friend or mother could take without feeling utterly disgusted.

Reese patted Angie’s back. ‘Let it all out, girl.’

‘How was the flight?’ her husband, Jeremy, asked.

Angie choked out a laugh and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. ‘Hi, Jer.’

The tall and still handsome high school football champion of their day stood a few feet away, clearly freaked out by the tears coursing down her face. Ten years after graduating, he had aged well. His mother always said youthful genes were a blessing in their family despite the lighter strands now peppered throughout his jet-black hair.

Men had it so easy.