Page 12 of Matched with the Playboy Next Door

Her hair is tied back in a messy bun, loose strands framing her face, and she’s chewing on the end of her pen with an expression that somehow manages to look both focused and annoyed. She’s so different from anyone I knew backin the city—completely unpolished, no-nonsense, and yet… there’s something about her that’s magnetic.

I clear my throat, and her eyes snap up to meet mine.

“You again?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “What is it this time? Need me to explain the difference between a wrench and a hammer?”

I force a smile, holding up the hedge trimmers like I’m surrendering a weapon. “Actually, I need help. Turns out I didn’t figure it out, after all.”

She sets down her pen, crosses her arms, and leans against the counter. “Oh, really? You mean my sage advice didn’t magically make you a DIY expert?”

“Shocking, right?” I reply, matching her sarcasm.

Riley sighs and motions for me to bring the trimmers over. “Let’s see the damage.”

I hand them over, and she inspects them with a critical eye, turning them over like a mechanic diagnosing a car. “Wow. These trimmers have seen better days. What’d you try to cut, a tree trunk?”

I rub the back of my neck, trying not to feel too embarrassed. “I might’ve used them on some branches that were… too big.”

She snorts. “Too big? These are hedge trimmers, Ethan. Not tree saws.”

“Okay, point taken,” I say, holding up my hands. “I’m a hopeless city boy who doesn’t know what he’s doing. That’s why I came toyou—the expert.”

Her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile. “You’re lucky I like fixing things.”

She pulls out a toolkit and starts working on the trimmers right there at the counter, her hands deft and confident. Watching her is… oddly fascinating. The way she works—focused, deliberate, like she’s done this a million times—makes me feel like a complete amateur. But it’s also… kind of incredible to watch. Not to mention that there’s something incredibly attractive about how capable she is.

“So,” she says after a moment, not looking up. “Why didn’t you just ask for help the first time? Too much pride?”

“Something like that,” I admit, leaning against the counter. “Figured I could handle it on my own. Guess I was wrong.”

She smirks, glancing up at me briefly. “You don’t say.”

There’s a pause, and I realize I actually don’t mind standing here with her, even if she’s giving me a hard time.

“Why are you really here, Ethan?” she asks, her tone softer now.

I shrug. “Honestly? Because I knew you’d fix it, and I kind of like watching you call me out. Keeps me humble.”

She laughs at that, shaking her head. “I suppose that’s a good enough answer.”

“Do you ever take it easy on anyone?” I ask, unable to keep the grin off my face.

“Not when they make it this easy,” she shoots back, handing me the now-functional trimmers. “Try not to kill these again, okay?”

“Scout’s honor,” I say, holding up three fingers.

As I head for the door, I glance back at her one more time. There’s something about Riley that keeps catching me off guard. She’s sharp, she’s tough, and she’s absolutely nothing like the women I’ve known before.

And for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I might’ve met someone who can actually keep me on my toes.

Istep back to admire the hedges, my hands on my hips. They’re a little uneven, sure, and one of them is noticeably lopsided, but they’re trimmed. Finally.

“Not bad for someone who didn’t know which end of the trimmers to use last week,” I mutter.

Just as I’m about to head inside to grab a drink, the crunch of gravel catches my attention. I glance over to see Riley climbing out of her red truck, parked in my driveway like she owns the place.

“What’s this? A surprise inspection?” I ask, smirking as she walks toward me.

Riley crosses her arms, giving the hedges a once-over. “I was curious. Thought I’d see if you managed to butcheranything else.”

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