Her Playboy Crush - Nicola Marsh

CHAPTER ONE

‘RYDER’S BACK IN TOWN.’

Four words designed to strike fear into Polly Scanlon’s guarded heart as she glared at her brother Archie, smirking knowingly at her from his perch atop the stepladder.

‘So?’

She shrugged, well aware that Archie of all people wouldn’t buy her forced nonchalance for a second as she handed him a hammer.

‘Just thought you’d like to know.’ He grinned, well aware of her never-ending mortification at the hands of his charming friend.

Ryder Beale had been born to make her life a misery. A fact he’d never let her forget during her painful teenage years and beyond. He’d teased her about everything, from training bras to geeky grades, his sole aim being to make her blush.

God help her if Archie knew the rest.

‘You should’ve defended me all those years,’ she said, propping herself against a sheet-covered armoire. ‘Encouraging a guy like Ryder is like giving a kid red cordial and letting him loose in a lolly shop.’

Archie chuckled. ‘You’re the only little sis I have. Par for the course I’d get a laugh out of seeing you squirm.’

‘Bastard.’

‘Love you too.’ He winked and blew her a kiss. ‘Now pass me the pack of hooks, please.’

She wondered why Ryder was back in town. It had been over five years since he’d last come home. She’d initially been glad when he’d left Sydney after high school; at least that’s what she kept telling herself. She’d been a pining sixteen-year-old at the time, her crush on her older, sexier next-door neighbour a secret she’d shielded behind clever quips and constant sparring.

Ryder had never failed to get a rise out of her, but it had been their thing and she’d missed it after he’d left. He’d returned to Sydney intermittently since then and their banter had only intensified: lots of smartass word play, too much sexual tension on her part. He’d never treated her as anything other than an annoying friend.

Now Ryder was back in town and her ovaries couldn’t help but leap for joy.

She handed Archie the hooks. ‘So what’s the PITA doing in Sydney anyway?’

Not that she was interested. Much.

‘The pain in the ass is here to plan my thirtieth, apparently.’ Archie hammered a few nails through the first hook’s eye and she winced at the noise. ‘Something a sibling should do, you know.’

Polly flipped her middle finger at him. ‘You hate parties.’

‘Not the kind Ryder organises.’ He tossed the hammer and caught it, a move he’d got down pat since he’d started renovating his place six months ago. ‘When one of his private school buddies turned twenty-one he had the top ten placed girls in a local beauty pageant attend.’

Polly snorted and ignored the stab of jealousy at the thought of Ryder anywhere near beauty pageant contestants. Then again, she’d seen enough of the kind of women he’d hung out with over the years. Ever since he’d become a life coach much in demand on the talk show circuit, he’d been featured in magazines and articles online, some of which depicted him attending parties, usually with a beautiful woman on his arm. His playboy reputation had escalated along with his fame and while she’d never begrudge him his burgeoning career, she could do without seeing the gorgeous, glamorous women he favoured these days.

Not that she should care. They’d never been more than friends—he’d never given her the slightest hint he knew about her crush or reciprocated it—but seeing Ryder with those women made her yearn for a dartboard. It was crazy, considering she was older and wiser now, and someone like him would never go for someone like her, even if she was foolish enough to indulge her old crush a tad.

‘You know you’ll more than likely get a strippergram and a case of tequila.’

Archie slipped the hammer into his tool belt and rubbed his hands together. ‘Counting on it.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘It’ll be a blast.’ He came down the ladder. ‘Maybe you can both be party planners together?’

‘Not bloody likely,’ she blurted, earning another wide-eared grin from Archie.

If she didn’t know any better she’d think he knew about her long-term crush on his best friend. But that couldn’t be right because if Archie knew he would’ve warned her off Ryder and teased her endlessly about it.

He dusted off his hands and wiped them on a towel tucked into his tool belt. ‘Why don’t you ponder helping Ryder throw me the best thirtieth party ever while you make a start on sanding the skirting boards