Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
JAKE
I’m elbow-deep in the Chev’s engine bay when I hear an unfamiliar voice at the front of the shop.
“Delivery for Doc’s Auto Restoration. I’ve got a commercial coffee machine setup.”
I wipe my hands on a rag and walk over to see what’s going on. A bloke in a uniform is wheeling in what looks like the most expensive coffee machine I’ve ever seen—all chrome and black, with more buttons than a bloody spaceship.
“Mate, I think you’ve got the wrong address,” I say, approaching him.
“Nah, this is definitely the right place. Says here Doc’s Auto Restoration, and I’ve got instructions to set it up in the kitchen area.”
Chase walks over, looking just as confused as I am. “We didn’t order a coffee machine.”
“According to my paperwork, someone named Stella did. She’s authorised on the account.”
José and Asher have stopped what they’re doing and are now staring at this machine like it’s from another planet.
“How much does something like that cost?” Asher asks.
The delivery guy grins. “More than your car, mate. This baby’s top-of-the-line. Dual boiler, programmable settings, built-in grinder. She’s a beauty.”
“Damn,” José whistles. “Stella’s only been here one day and she’s already spending Arden’s money.”
“Yeah, but look at the coffee we’ve been drinking,” Chase says, gesturing toward our sad little instant coffee station. “Maybe it’s time for an upgrade.”
The delivery guy starts wheeling the machine toward the kitchen, and we all follow like we’re in some kind of procession. The thing is massive and takes up half the bench space we had.
“Right, I’ll get this set up and give whoever’s going to be using it a quick tutorial. Where’s this Stella?”
“She’s not supposed to be in until this afternoon,” Chase answers, checking his watch.
I’m about to say something when I hear the distinct click of heels again on concrete. My cock immediately starts to stir because I know that sound, and I’m starting to like it way too much.
“Morning, boys.” We all turn around and fuck me sideways—she looks incredible.
She’s wearing a tight white tank top that shows off her perfect tits, a black skirt that hugs every curve and ends just above her knees, and those same black heels from the night at Grumpy’s.
The ones I’ve fantasised about digging into my back as I fuck her senseless.
But it’s the green-framed glasses perched on her nose that really get me. She looks like every wet dream I’ve ever had about a sexy librarian.
“Stella,” Chase says, “what are you doing here so early? And what’s this?” He waves his hands toward the coffee machine.
“I called Arden last night. We discussed the dire coffee situation, and he agreed we needed an upgrade.” She walks over to the delivery guy with a confidence that makes my mouth go dry. “You must be from Biscotti Brothers. Perfect timing.”
She’s carrying bags from what looks like a specialty coffee shop, and the smell of freshly roasted beans fills the air, making my taste buds stir to life.
“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.
“Maybe I like being in your way.”
“Jake,” Chase’s voice cuts through the steam and sexual tension like a bloody fire extinguisher. “Stop distracting Stella and let the rest of us get caffeinated.”
I step back with a grin.
Stella gives an exaggerated sigh, but I catch the twitch at the corner of her mouth before she focuses on pulling the first shot.
She’s a bloody natural—all those years working at the coffee shop show when she starts flicking switches, timing pours, frothing milk like she’s been doing it for years. The workshop quiets, everyone weirdly reverent, watching her like it’s a performance.
She hands me the first cup. “For you.”
I take a sip and groan. “This is... I don’t even have words. This is sex in a cup.”
“Careful,” she says. “I charge extra for moaning.” My dick stirs just thinking about making her moan.
“You could bottle this and start a cult.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Asher mutters, stepping up for his turn. “She already walks around like she owns the joint, and she’s only been here a day.”
“The way she bossed us around yesterday, she may actually own this place one day,” José points out, then holds out his own cup. “Make mine a double. No milk. Actually...” He looks around, grabs a can of Red Bull from his toolbox, and cracks it open. “I’m mixing it.”
“Absolutely not.” Stella tries to grab the Red Bull out of his hand, but José is too quick for her. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh, I am. It’s happening.” José moves away from her and pours the liquid into the espresso shot like it’s some kind of experiment. “Red Bull latte, baby.”
Stella’s face pales. She’s horrified.
“Mate, that’s not coffee,” Chase shakes his head. “That’s a fucking heart attack in a mug.”
José sips it proudly. “It’s called innovation.”
“It’s called ‘do not resuscitate,’” Asher chimes in. “You’re gonna vibrate through the floor.”
“Pretty sure I just saw your pupils dilate,” Stella deadpans, shaking her head in disgust.
José raises his cup. “To caffeine.”
“To regret,” I mutter, watching as he takes another long sip and shudders.
A few minutes later, Stella begins passing around more drinks like she’s the caffeine queen of New Hope. “Nobody can complain about being too tired to focus now.”
“Does that mean no more Monday arvo naps behind the parts shelf?” Asher asks hopefully.
“No,” she replies sweetly. “It means I’ll be double-checking the CCTV footage.”
Groans ripple around the room.
“You’ve created a monster,” Asher says, taking a sip of his coffee and nodding in approval. “José is going to be bouncing off the walls, more than usual.”
“Right,” Stella agrees, finishing her own cup. “Now that you’re all properly caffeinated, we need to talk.” She walks over to turn off the radio, and we all automatically gather around. It’s like she’s got some kind of natural authority that makes us all want to listen.