Page 22 of Matched with the Playboy Next Door

As soon as my hand touches his, he pulls me up onto the stage, practically lifting me like I weigh nothing. I gasped, half laughing, half stunned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you don’t run away,” he says with that grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I squirm, trying to get down, but Ethan’s having none of it. Before I know it, he’s lifted me onto his shoulders like I’m a sack of potatoes, and the crowd bursts into laughter.

“Ethan! What are you doing?” I can’t help the laugh that escapes, even as I swat at him to put me down.

“Welcome to the stage, Riley!” he calls out, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is what we call a grand entrance.”

I’m pretty sure I’m turning a shade of red that no one should be able to see from this height. “Put me down, you idiot!”

But Ethan laughs, ignoring me as he makes his way toward the microphone. “All right, everyone, give it up for my lovely assistant, Riley!”

The crowd laughs and cheers, and I can’t help but laugh, too—mostly because there’s nothing I can do about it.

This isnothow I imagined this day going.

The crowd is still laughing as Ethan finally sets me down, a triumphant grin plastered on his face. I glare at him, brushing imaginary dust off my jeans, trying to recover whatever dignity I have left.

“Next time, maybe a little warning before you toss me over your shoulder?” I already know the grin tugging at my lips betrays my words.

Ethan just chuckles, leaning into the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely Riley! She’s a little grumpy, but don’t let that fool you—she’s got a heart of gold.”

I roll my eyes, snatching the mic from him. “And Ethan here thinks he’s the town comedian,” I say, my voice steady even as the crowd laughs. “But let’s get back to why we’re actually here before his head gets any bigger.”

The crowd chuckles again, and Ethan looks at me with a smirk, clearly enjoying the banter.

I glance down at the clipboard Mia shoved into my hands earlier. “All right, folks,” I start, scanning the notes. “Today’s charity event is all about celebrating Bardstown’s finest culinary creations—specifically, pork!”

Ethan takes the second mic, stepping closer to my side. “That’s right! We’ve got some of the best home cooks in town ready to show off their skills. Each contestant has prepared a special pork dish for our judges to taste. Afterward, the rest will be sold to the highest bidders, with all proceeds going to Bardstown’s community fund.”

“And by highest bidders,” I add, “we mean you. So, get your wallets ready because this pork doesn’t come cheap, and it’sfor a good cause.”

The crowd cheers, and I glance at Ethan, who’s grinning like he’s having the time of his life. He catches me looking and leans over slightly, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.

“You’re good at this,” he says, his tone surprisingly sincere.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I reply, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck.

Ethan grins but doesn’t push it, turning back to the crowd. “All right, let’s meet our contestants!”

We step to the side as the first contestant, Mrs. Harriet, waddles up to the stage with a platter in her hands. Her famous honey-glazed pork roast gleams under the lights, and the crowd murmurs in approval.

“Mrs. Harriet,” I say into the mic, smiling warmly, “you’ve been cooking for these events for years. What makes this dish special?”

She beams, holding up her platter. “It’s all about the glaze, dear. Family recipe, passed down from my grandmother. A little honey, a little spice, and a whole lot of love.”

The crowd claps as Ethan leans into his mic. “And I’m sure it’s worth every penny, folks. Don’t be shy when the bidding starts!”

Mrs. Harriet blushes, waving at the crowd as she steps down.

The next contestant is Frank, the town butcher, who walks up with a massive pork shoulder that looks like it could feed an army.

“Frank, this is… impressive,” I say, eyeing the dish.

Frank chuckles, his voice booming. “Slow-smoked for ten hours. This here’s the pride of Bardstown!”

Ethan claps him on the back, grinning. “I think I just found my dinner, folks. Better start saving your pennies if you want to beat me in the auction.”

---