Page 17 of Tuned To Break
“Well, fuck,” José says under his breath. “Princess doesn’t mess around.”
“What did you just call me?” Stella’s voice is sharp as she turns to face José, and I can see flames of fire that match the colour of her hair come to life in her green eyes.
José holds up his hands. “Nothing, just?—”
“I heard what you said. Let me make something crystal clear—I’m not a princess, I’m not your sweetheart, and I’m certainly not your darl.” Her eyes flick to me on that last word, and I swear there’s a challenge there. “I’m the person who’s going to fix this clusterfuck of a business, so you can either get on board or get out of my way. And if you even try to mess with me, I’ll make sure they never find your body.”
The workshop goes dead silent except for the sound of the delivery guy trying not to laugh. I try to hide my chuckle as the memory of pigs infiltrates my mind.
“Yes, ma’am,” José mumbles.
“Good. Now, who wants to learn how to make proper coffee?”
The delivery guy spends the next thirty minutes showing us how to use the machine, but honestly, I’m not paying attention to a word he’s saying. I’m too busy watching Stella. The way she leans over to examine the controls gives me a perfect view of her arse. The way she bites her bottom lip when she’s concentrating has me adjusting myself again.
Fuck, I need to get laid, and I need it to be her.
“Right, got you all set up,” the delivery guy says, packing up his tools. “The machine’s under warranty, and here’s the manual if you need it.”
“Thank you so much,” Stella grins, signing the paperwork. “This is going to make such a difference.”
After he leaves, Stella immediately starts unpacking her bags, pulling out different types of coffee beans, milk, and what looks like enough supplies to stock a café.
“So,” Chase draws the word out, “want to explain why you’re here so early?”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do, and the quicker I can get it sorted out, the better. Plus, I wanted to get this set up before you all got too caffeinated on that shit you call coffee.”
She starts loading beans into the grinder, and the sound fills the workshop with a deep mechanical hum that somehow feels comforting, like this place was always meant to smell like freshly ground coffee instead of burnt oil and grease.
Within minutes, the most incredible aroma is wafting through the air—rich, nutty, chocolatey.
“That smells good,” Asher breathes, eyes wide as he lifts his head from under the hood of a half-dismantled Patrol. “Is that... actual coffee?”
“Not just coffee,” Stella says, flipping her hair off her shoulder like she’s hosting her own barista reality show. “This is small-batch, locally roasted, ethically sourced, and aggressively caffeinated magic. Who’s first?”
“Me,” I reply instantly, pushing off the bench and moving toward her. Close enough to catch that familiar mix of her caramel perfume and espresso. Close enough that if she shifted even half an inch, we’d be chest to chest.
She glances up, a smug smile tugging at her mouth. “How do you like it, Jake?”
And the way she says it, the slow, deliberate tone, makes it real fucking clear she’s not just talking about coffee.
“Strong. Hot. A little sweet,” I murmur, letting my gaze drop to her lips and then drag lazily back up. “But not too sweet. I like a bit of bite to it, too.”
Her cheeks flush slightly, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “I think I can handle that.”
She turns to the machine, focused now, but I step in behind her, near enough that the heat of her body seeps into mine. My hand reaches up and brushes hers as I grab a cup off the shelf above her head.
“Need any help?” I ask, my voice low and lazy, just for her.
“I think I can manage,” she replies, a touch breathless now.
“Excuse me,” I whisper against her ear, not moving even a millimetre.
She turns her head, our faces almost touching. “You’re in my way.”
“Am I?”
“Yes,” she breathes out, but she still doesn’t move.
