The Gingerbread Man

By Kate Angell

Christmas comes but once a year....but true love is forever.

Abby Denton has a holiday secret: she bakes anatomically correct gingerbread men for Christmas. The G-men are...impressive. But those erotic cookies have nothing on the sexy stranger Abby saves from an accident on a snowy mountain road. Could Lander Reynolds be the Christmas treat she's truly been longing for?

A sweet and sexy romance.

Featuring an adorable cat named Tennyson.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Angell
• Release date: Jun 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005570361

Kate Angell

National best-selling author Kate Angell lives in beautiful Naples on the Gulf of Mexico, Florida. She's an avid reader, sports enthusiast, and animal lover. She's best known for her Richmond Rogues baseball series.

Book preview

THE GINGERBREAD MAN

by

KATE ANGELL

The Gingerbread Man

Copyright © 2021 KATE ANGELL

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 9781005570361

Cover Graphic by Jaxadora Design.

Dedication

Many thanks to Jax Cassidy for all her assistance with The Gingerbread Man. You are professional, inspirational, and an amazing friend.

THE GINGERBREAD MAN

Christmas comes but once a year....but true love is forever.

Abby Denton has a holiday secret: she bakes anatomically correct gingerbread men for Christmas. The G-men are...impressive. But those erotic cookies have nothing on the sexy stranger Abby saves from an accident on a snowy mountain road. Could Lander Reynolds be the Christmas treat she's truly been longing for?

A sweet and sexy romance.

Featuring an adorable cat named Tennyson.

No fan of the contemporary genre should miss Angell's surefire romances.

—Booklist

Known for her charming beach reads.

—Kirkus

Angell draws the reader to the beach and boardwalk and adds a little spring training baseball to the mix. Sunshine on your face, toes in the sand, and cheering for your favorite player at the ballpark makes for a charming romance series.

—Publishers Weekly on her Richmond Rogues books

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PROLOGUE

December 12th

Solitude notched snuggly at the southern base of the White Mountains of Pennsylvania. Several popular winter resorts bordered the small town. Skiers and snowboarders stormed the slopes in the winter months.

Thirteen days prior to Christmas, and the locals jammed the redbrick recreation room at the community center for the annual Holiday Cookie Swap. Shiny tins and festive boxes of assorted cookies would soon be auctioned, all in the name of a charity or special project. This year everyone bid generously in support of the library expansion.

Abby Denton entered the center. It was cold outside. Jack Frost nipped her nose. A monster blizzard was forecast, an overnight whiteout. The warmth in the room embraced her like a hug. She unwrapped her chunky cable knit mauve scarf and removed her matching mittens. She favored mittens over gloves. Cherished gifts from her late grandmother.

Two long tables stretched along the west wall, crowded with decorative containers. Sugar cookies to white chocolate Madeleines, apple spice to shortbread, and fruitcake cookies to raspberry thumb prints. All were anonymously donated. No one was supposed to know whose container was whose, and the contents were a surprise for the winner.

Abby glanced at the crowd before cautiously approaching the closest table. The one nearest the auctioneer’s short dais and microphone system. A stocky Christmas tree with twinkling white lights cornered the table top. Children from the day care program had decorated the boughs with handmade construction paper ornaments. A yellow macaroni star topper tipped slightly left. One thick branch swept low. Brushing the table.

She reached into her shoulder bag and removed a basic brown cardboard box looped with thin red string. Simplistic and subtle. She then slid the box beneath the branch, as inconspicuously as possible. Pine needles pricked her fingers. The carton was half hidden, yet still visible to the auctioneer.

A throat was cleared behind her. Followed by a whisper over her shoulder. Did you dare?

Abby startled. Brunette, slim, and vivacious Nora Abbott hovered close. She’d been Abby’s best friend since birth. They’d been born at the same hospital, within the same hour. Abby older by fifteen minutes. I dared, she confided.

Nora kept her voice low. How did you decorate your gingerbread men for the auction?

Red royal icing Santa hats and boots. Abby paused. Peppermint-stick penises.

Her friend chuckled. Naughty you.

Abby blew out a breath. She momentarily debated her choice of cookies. Whatever had possessed her to shake things up at the cookie swap of all places? Impulsive Nora had nudged her to do so. It was too late to rethink her decision. She’d already presented her anatomically correct gingerbread men to the fundraiser. She couldn’t remove the box without notice.

Fortunately, the unsigned parcels kept the bakers’ secrets. She’d so often shared her plain gingerbread men with family and friends and had only recently stepped out of her comfort zone and established The Gingerbread Man, an online mail order business for those with an erotic sweet tooth. A strong anonymous web presence, and her cookies took off with the first batch. She had a backlog of requests.

She’d given little thought to the outcome. The locals were conservative. Her suggestive cookies would stun many. A few would find humor in the erect candy canes. At the end of the money maker, everyone would be curious as to who had baked the cookies. Gossip would surface. They’d be guessing for weeks to come.

Abby would never tell.

Her BFF could keep a secret as well.

Nora took Abby by the arm and hustled her across the room to one of the circular tables set aside for the bidders. They joined Nora’s great aunts, the Abbott sisters. The ladies owned and operated the local florist shop, Life in Bloom. Nora worked with them too. The women embraced their eighties with the philosophy: young at heart. They’d graciously donated the centerpieces on each table. Sprigs of holly and red carnations in green glass mason jars. Merrily festive.

Nora pointed to a metal folding chair. I saved you a seat. The friends settled in.

Abby unzipped her navy puffer jacket, shrugged a shoulder, and let it drop onto the back of the chair. Snow dusted her Caribou Pac Boots. Melting, and leaving wet patches on the floor.

She noticed Nora had dressed up whereas Abby had dressed down. Abby was busty and curvy and preferred casual clothes. She’d chosen a peach waffle pullover and a pair of relaxed fit jeans. Norma, on the other hand, looked lovely in a lavender sweater set and gray slacks. Similar attire to her aunts own knit cardigans and wool pants.

Abby nudged her friend with her elbow. What cookies did you bake? she asked.

Walnut crescent cookies, she was told. My grandmother’s recipe.

Abby nodded. Good choice. I love any sweet with powdered sugar.

Three PM sharp, and Margaret Lowe, the auctioneer, stepped onto the dais. All business, she rapped a wooden gavel for everyone’s attention. The room immediately quieted. Welcome, she began. This is the fortieth annual Holiday Cookie Swap. Many of us were bidding on Christmas cookies long before some of you were even born.

Laughter and applause.

Margaret continued. At most recent count, there are thirty donations ready to be taken home and enjoyed. All, she stressed, will be sold to the highest bidders. Let’s expand the library!

Further cheers and clapping.

Let’s begin… A sudden commotion at the entryway gave the auctioneer pause. She pursed her lips. Squinted across the room.

Every person turned. A stiff wind blew a tall, good-looking man into the recreation center. His hair expensively cut, as was his long exquisitely tailored cashmere coat, flaked with snow. He noticed the dais and strode boldly to the front of the room. Seemingly in a hurry to find someone in charge. That would be Margaret.

The auctioneer leaned down to talk with him. Abby wasn’t close enough to hear what he was asking. She wished she were.

Nora placed her hand on her chest. He’s leading-man handsome. Be still my heart.

Abby’s stomach softened. He’s not from around here.

Big city, fast track, Nora guessed.

Solitude was slow lane, reduced speed.

Margaret soon straightened. She explained the man’s request to the curious crowd. The gentleman has requested directions to Philadelphia. The GPS on his Range Rover isn’t working. No iPhone service. It’s overcast and foggy. He missed the road sign to the interstate and took a wrong turn. He noticed the lights on in the building and sought assistance, just as we were beginning our cookie swap and fundraiser.

She smiled at the man. A sly twitch to her lips. Might I offer an exchange, sir? she requested. Directions to Philly for your bid on a box of cookies. Does everyone agree?

Immediate approval from those gathered. An ovation of cheers and whistles."

Are you agreeable? Margaret next asked him.

The man shoved his snow-dampened hair back with his hand. He had a wide forehead and strongly arched eyebrows. Whatever it takes to get me home, his voice was deep, relenting. How do I place my bid?

The auctioneer swept her arm toward the treat tables. Select a container and judge its worth. Once you’ve set a price, anyone in the room can outbid you. We’re raising money for a good cause, an addition to our library.

Do I get to know the type of cookies I’m buying? he asked.

Margaret shook her head. It’s a secret cookie swap. Big surprises inside.

Nora leaned toward Abby and whispered, "A huge surprise should he choose your cardboard box."

It’s doubtful he will, Abby softly responded. There are so many beautifully decorated containers. All eye-catching. Mine is plain and blocked by a tree branch. Hardly visible.

The girls raised off their chairs and watched the man walk the length of two tables then return to the dais. He held everyone in suspense. At the last minute he stuck his hand beneath the pine needles and grabbed Abby’s box.

Abby and Nora gasped simultaneously.

Abby had difficulty catching her breath.

Nora managed to speak. Good-bye peppermint sticks.

Abby crossed her fingers beneath the table. Unless someone outbids him. But no one did.

The man held up the box for all to see before tucking it under his arm. He cut straight to the price. He slipped a money clip from his pants’ pocket and peeled off several bills. His bid was strongly voiced and shocked those in attendance. One hundred dollars. He presented the money to Margaret. Are we good?

Pin-drop silence. The highest bid Abby could remember was fifty bucks. Yet this man had doubled it.

Margaret’s enthusiastic Sold! sealed the deal.

It was Shane Griffin from Grady’s Garage who sauntered to the dais. A few hand gestures and it appeared he’d given the guy directions out of town. It was approximately four hundred miles, give or take, from Solitude to Philadelphia. A rather long dangerous drive on such a snowy night.

The man shook Shane’s hand. Then turned to leave. He passed by Abby’s table on his way out. So close, that when he happened to glance down, their gazes met for heart-skipping seconds. His eyes were a light blue, intense with startling intelligence. His physique, male hotness. She felt her body melt on the chair.

He kept on walking. Soon clearing the entrance door with her cardboard box of lusty cookies. The whipping wind slammed the door behind him. The frosted glass shivered.

Nora’s face fell. Farewell handsome, she murmured. Just our luck he got lost and landed in town, only to have him leave so quickly.

Abby was resigned, and disappointed as well. She felt an unexpected loss. A strange sense of missing someone she didn’t even know. We may never see him again, but he provided a delicious memory at this year’s cookie swap.

He won’t forget Solitude anytime soon, Nora mused. He’s in for a shocker once he opens the container. His ho-ho-ho comes with peppermint pop-ups.

CHAPTER ONE

Seven PM. Dark, dangerous, and unforeseen circumstances had landed the arresting stranger back in Abby’s life. He presently slouched on the gray flannel sofa in her living room. Disoriented and troubled.

What’s your name? she asked him.

Lander, he managed with effort.

Her heart went out to him. He was all banged up. His hair was mussed and his blue eyes were dazed. A bump stood on his forehead. I’m Abby, she said slowly, making sure he understood her.

Confusion darkened his gaze. Do I know you?

We’ve never met.

You look familiar.

Familiar only if he counted their split-second stare at the recreation center when he strode by her table and left the building. So much had happened since then.

What’s the last thing you remember prior to your car accident? she pressed. It was important to keep him conscious.

A peppermint-stick penis.

Abby blushed. This couldn’t be good. She relived that very afternoon. She’d seen the man at the recreation center. He’d blown inside, a solid six feet and compelling presence. A man on a mission. A mission momentarily delayed when the auctioneer of the Holiday Cookie Swap challenged him to bid on a box of donated cookies in exchange for directions to Philadelphia. He’d paid one hundred dollars for anonymous sweets. Then received his directions out of town. He’d left in a hurry, with no idea X-rated gingerbread men hid in the box.

Abby didn’t rush the holidays. They were a time of joy and fun. Relaxation. Not mad dashes through the hills. Somehow she doubted he was