b y Karla Doyle Honey Golding is the
sweetest little thing Cal has ever laid eyes on. His much-younger new employee
is off-limits, but his sweet tooth might overrule his common sense… and his
willpower. Readers who love a side of laughter with their romance will enjoy
Gingerbread Man by Karla Doyle, a steamy, small town, grumpy/sunshine, boss/employee,
age gap romance. Buy Now
or Read FREE with KindleUnlimited! Add to Goodreads Here! A town that
celebrates Christmas year-round is the perfect place for a newly divorced,
six-foot-four ginger-haired baker to open his new business, The Ginger Bread
Man. Too bad he doesn’t share the community’s love of everything ho-ho-ho. Fake
it until you make it, right? Or hire someone who has enough holiday spirit that
nobody notices your lack thereof. Enter Honey Golding, the sweetest little
thing Cal has ever laid eyes on. His much-younger new employee is off-limits,
but his sweet tooth might overrule his common sense… and his willpower. Excerpt Copyright 2023
Karla Doyle “Your hours say you're
open until six,” the brunette says when I unlock and open the door. “So I
thought I had plenty of time to catch you.”
“I close when everything’s sold.”
Little Miss Sunshine doesn’t flinch at my grumpy tone. She just stares up at me
with the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen. “You don’t have anything left to
sell? By quarter after four?”
“No.” An apology would be appropriate here, I know. Not my style. Hence why I
need a customer service elf. “Come by in the morning if you don’t want to be
disappointed.” Shit, even I can do better than that. I huff a
miserable-sounding sigh. “I tell you what—I’ll put something aside for you, and
you can pick it up whenever you get here. The door will probably be locked, but
I’ll wait for you. Best I can do. So. What were you hoping to get today?”
“A job.” No tapping on the glass this time. She pushes past me to reach in and
pull my makeshift sign from the inside of the window, then hands it to me.
“This job. You won’t find anyone better. What time should I be here tomorrow?”
I grunt a laugh. Even smile a little. She’s spunky, confident, and yeah, very
easy on the eyes. Too easy, considering she’s gotta be in her early-twenties,
and I’m knocking on forty’s door. My attraction is irrelevant. She’s applying
for a job, not a date.
Right now, she’s my top candidate, simply because of her personality. But this
is my business, and despite feeling like the stupidest man alive for being
blindsided back in Cali, I’m not foolish enough to hire anyone on impulse. Not
even the irresistible brunette.
“Got a resume?” I hook a nod toward the cash counter. “I’ll add it to the pile
and look it over later.” When she’s not standing in my personal space, looking
and smelling like a sweet treat I could sink into. My second head doesn’t get
to do the hiring.
She breaks eye contact only long enough to pull a sheet of sunshiny-yellow
paper from her bag.
Despite my comment about reviewing it later, I scan the page after she hands it
to me. “No bakery experience,” I say, pointing out the only fault I find.
Her genuine smile doesn’t waver, not even for a moment. “Don’t worry. I’ll have
your buns and baguettes figured out in no time.”
If she knew how much my baguette liked the sound of that, she’d snatch her
application from my hand and never come back. “I’ll be in touch—” I glance at
the paper again, as if I didn’t already have her name and number committed to
memory. “Ms. Golding.”
“It’s Miss, and call me Honey.”
Another grunted laugh slips out. “Hoping to sweeten me up so I give you the
job, Miss Golding?”
“I always put Honora on formal or professional documents, but everyone in town
calls me Honey.”
Shit. I’ve got big feet and an even bigger mouth to shove them in.
She raises one eyebrow over eyes the color of moss and shiny as sea glass.
“Don’t worry, boss, I’m not offended. What time should I be here in the
morning?”
“I haven’t offered you the job.” A smile forces its way past my resting grump
face as I accept the hand she extended, awareness rising to riotous levels
throughout my body the instant we make skin-to-skin contact.
“You will,” she says, holding my hand and my gaze. “I’m exactly what you need.”
She’s right. I know it with every cell of my being. Trouble is, I think she’s
exactly what I need in more ways than I can have her. About Karla Doyle After studying fashion
design in college, Karla worked in the clothing industry for over two decades.
In 2011, she caught the writing bug, received a scholarship to attend the
Romance Writers of America conference in New York City, and hasn’t looked back.
A small-town girl with some big-city experience, Karla resides in Southwestern
Ontario, Canada, with her husband and two young-adult kids. When she’s not
writing the sexy stories swirling around in her head, you can find her spending
time with family, playing online Scrabble, or cuddled up with a romance novel
and her beloved pets.
Karla loves interacting with readers. Connect with her online or send her an
email. She’d love to hear from you! Follow: Website | Facebook | Reader Group
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