If You Give A Jerk A Gingerbread (Reindeer Falls, #2)

by Jana Aston

Sweet Pillsbury Doughboy, this is my idea of porn. Keller James sitting before me, praising my baking. If my bakery plan falls apart

I know what my next venture will be. Bakery porn. It'll be nothing but attractive men eating my cookies. The camera will zoom in as their tongues flicker over their lips, sweeping up every last morsel. They'll probably be shirtless too. I bet I can get subscribers to pay at least four ninety-nine a month for such a service.

"I wasn't flirting. You were flirting." There. That'll show him. That I'm twelve. Way to spar, Ginger.

"I'm fairly certain that the only thing I'd enjoy more than bantering with you is kissing you."

Comparison is the thief of joy, and this is my dream. Just because my dreams

are smaller in nature doesn't make them any less important or valid.

"Nothing about December is practical, Gingersnap. December is when magic takes over. Embrace it."

"This town, the people. You. It all reminds me of what's really important. Of what I'm missing." "What are you missing, exactly?" "Something real."

"Maybe if I was in your life I wouldn't be distracting you from it."

"It’s Christmas, Ginger, and anything is possible at Christmas. Have a little faith in the magic."

Sure, I date, but I can't remember the last time a man asked for my phone number in person. I meet guys on dating apps, like a civilized millennial.

"You want to open a restaurant in Reindeer Falls?" I ask, not daring to believe, even though he told me to. Believe in the magic, he said. This is the magic. We're the magic. Love is the magic. "Only if you'll do it with me, Gingersnap." He says it more earnestly than a man on bended knee proposing. "Let's play bake shop forever." "Yes," I breathe.