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    Let Your Heart Be Light: The Kelly Brothers, #8
    Let Your Heart Be Light: The Kelly Brothers, #8
    Let Your Heart Be Light: The Kelly Brothers, #8
    Ebook91 pages59 minutes

    Let Your Heart Be Light: The Kelly Brothers, #8

    By Crista McHugh

    ()

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    About this ebook

    All Maureen Kelly wants for Christmas is a full house. Unfortunately, now that her seven sons have all found the women of their dreams, they’re too busy to come home for the holidays. If it wasn’t for the attention of a good family friend, she would’ve completely given up on the joy of the season.

    Rupert Bates has been in love with Maureen for nearly twenty years, before he had any right to have such feelings for her. He’s given her five years to grieve her late husband, all the while gathering the courage to confess his feelings to her. Bit by bit, the magic of the holidays draws them closer, and she begins to return his affection. But will falling in love with his boss lead to delight or heartache?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCrista McHugh
    Release dateNov 22, 2016
    ISBN9781940559278
    Let Your Heart Be Light: The Kelly Brothers, #8

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      Book preview

      Let Your Heart Be Light - Crista McHugh

      Let Your Heart Be Light

      A Kelly Brothers Novella

      (Kelly Brothers, Book 8)

      by

      Crista McHugh

      All Maureen Kelly wants for Christmas is a full house. Unfortunately, now that her seven sons have all found the women of their dreams, they’re too busy to come home for the holidays. If it wasn’t for the attention of a good family friend, she would’ve completely given up on the joy of the season.

      Rupert Bates has been in love with Maureen for nearly twenty years, before he had any right to have such feelings for her. He’s given her five years to grieve her late husband, all the while gathering the courage to confess his feelings to her. Bit by bit, the magic of the holidays draws them closer, and she begins to return his affection. But will falling in love with his boss lead to delight or heartache?

      Chapter 1

      Rupert Bates adjusted his tie and took a deep breath.

      Remain focused, calm, and collected.

      Unfortunately, his sweaty palms betrayed him and revealed that he was anything but calm and collected. At least he still had his focus, even though he questioned his conviction.

      He curled his fingers into a fist and gave the door in front of him three efficient knocks.

      Steady.

      Then a dazzling smile shattered his resolve.

      Maureen Kelly had to be the perfection of womanhood personified. Intelligent. Confident. Kind. Gorgeous enough to steal his breath away every time he saw her.

      And today was no exception.

      Rupert, she said, the slight rise in her voice demonstrating her genuine pleasure at finding him at her door, what a surprise.

      His tie seemed to draw up around his throat like a hangman’s noose, choking all the things he wanted to say to her.

      She opened the door all the way. Come inside before the wind blows you away.

      Somehow, over the course of a few steps, he managed to regain his voice. Talking about the weather always served as a good icebreaker. This is hardly a gale.

      No, but it has a definite nip to it. She peered up at the cloudy sky. I suspect we’ll get a few inches of snow overnight.

      Typical for this time of year. He came inside the warm, cheery home in Highland Park he’d visited hundreds of times over the twenty years he’d worked for the Kelly family. And just like every recent visit, a hundred pounds of white fur pounced on him.

      Jasper! Maureen scolded, pulling her Great Pyrenees away by the collar. Bad dog! How many times do I have to tell you not to jump on people?

      The dog simply wagged his tail and looked up at her with what appeared to be complete adoration, his tongue flopping out the side of his open mouth.

      Rupert felt a twinge of envy toward Jasper. He’d probably wear a matching expression of adoration if he hadn’t had years of maintaining the proper British stiff upper lip of emotional repression that had been drilled into him since he was a boy at Exeter. Instead, he shed his thick woolen coat and draped it over his arm.

      Can you stay long enough for a cup of tea? Before he could answer, Maureen had taken his coat and was hanging it in the coat closet by the door. I just bought a fresh tin of Assam.

      His favorite tea. Of course, she knew that, just as she knew the way he liked it prepared—with a simple splash of milk. I really don’t want to be a bother—

      Nonsense. She was already on her way to the kitchen. I enjoy a bit of good company.

      He followed her to the massive chef’s kitchen. A decade ago, it had been the hub of a large family with seven active boys. Now, it seemed cavernous and empty, belonging only to the woman who lived here alone. No wonder she welcomed company.

      Maureen poured hot water into a teapot from the special spigot by the sink and measured out the loose tea leaves before adding them to the pot. While that’s brewing, what brings you all the way out here?

      If he had the courage, he would’ve happily replied that it was a purely social visit, but thankfully, he had the guise of work to shield him. He grabbed the file from his briefcase and placed it on the granite-topped island. I wanted to discuss the greystone in Humboldt Park.

      We still have that property? Maureen fetched a pair of reading glasses from the next room and perused the documents he’d laid out for her.

      Yes, and that was why I wanted to speak to you about it. Adam has plans for it.

      What are they? She paused from reading long enough to pour two cups of tea, adding a splash of milk to his before the tea.

      He wants to tear it down and build condominiums.

      Maureen choked on her tea. He what?

      He pretended not to notice the slip in her usual poise and showed her the architect’s drawing of an ultramodern structure that would house six upscale units. The area has shown remarkable gentrification over the last few years, and he thinks we should capitalize on it.

      A condo would make sense in the city, but not there. She shuffled through the papers until she found the one she was looking for. This home was built in 1893. It should be on the historic homes register.

      Agreed. He took a sip of the tea, savoring how she’d managed to create the level of perfection in the cup. But the last tenants left the property in need of serious repair, and Adam thinks it would be easier to level the home and start over from scratch.

      But I love this home. It has so much character. She pulled out a photo of the exterior and pointed to the details. Look at the masonry on the portico.

      Yes, but look at the interior. He pulled out the photos of the disaster left by the tenants. Gouged floors. Rat droppings. Grime-covered surfaces in the kitchen and bathrooms. Broken moldings and shattered windows. Water stains on the ceiling. We’d have to gut the entire building to make it habitable.

      Then that’s what we should do, she replied in a tone that offered no argument.

      But, he countered,

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