The Inn at the End of November

Interior designer Nora Callahan has one rule: never get attached to a project. She renovates beautiful spaces, hands over the keys, and moves on. It's clean. Professional. Safe. So when her boss sends her to Larkmoor, Vermont - population 1, 200 and falling - to rescue a crumbling historic inn before a January deadline, Nora expects to be in and out by Christmas. She does not expect Callum Hale. The inn's co-owner is everything Nora doesn't need: stubborn, guarded, and so clearly grieving that it hurts to look at him.
A single father raising a six-year-old daughter alone after his wife's death two years ago, Callum has poured every remaining piece of himself into the Larkmoor Inn - the one thing he has left of the life he planned. He doesn't want a designer rearranging his walls and telling him what needs to change. He doesn't want to notice the way Nora laughs at his town's absurdities. Or how she stays late drawing restoration plans by lamplight.
Or how his daughter, Wren, follows her around like a small, devoted shadow. Nora doesn't want to notice any of it either. But Larkmoor has a way of making people slow down. And the inn - with its warped floorboards and ghost-light windows and one spectacular leak in the east-wing ceiling - has a way of revealing what people have been carrying. As Nora and Callum work side by side through a Vermont winter, something stubborn and warm begins to build between them.
Something that feels dangerously like home. When a secret surfaces that threatens everything Nora has worked to create - both the renovation and what's quietly growing between them - she'll have to decide whether her most important rule has been protecting her, or simply keeping her from the one place she was always meant to arrive. A slow-burn small-town romance about grief, second chances, and the terrifying courage it takes to finally stay.