An Optimist's Guide to Heartbreak (Heartsong #1)(32)

“Congratulations,” I breeze, coughing to cover the giggles while I aimlessly graze my fingers over the boxes of batteries. When I glance up at him through long lashes with only my eyes, I relish in the half-smile that managed to break free. Just one corner of his mouth is tipped up as he gazes down at me with a flickering of humor in his eyes.

I wish I could bottle this moment; package it up and store it inside me, unwrapping it when I need the reminder that my Cal is still in there.

Our eyes continue to hold until the smile fades from his lips, and the levity in his eyes evolves into something else. Something that causes my skin to flush hot. It’s the same feeling that possessed me a few weeks ago at the wine bar when Cal pressed his palm to the small of my back, smelling like sin, and whispered a single word against the shell of my ear that had thunder rolling in my chest and lightning climbing my throat.

I’m forced to change the subject before the fire in my cheeks turns this storage room into an incinerator. Darting my eyes away, I break the tether and draw my attention back to the array of mechanical parts. “So, inventory. Exciting. Do I have to—”

I’m interrupted by the sound of a cheery female voice echoing through the bays.

“Cal? I come bearing gifts.”

Cal blinks away whatever was brewing inside his light brown eyes and releases a long sigh, sweeping past me. “Sorry. One sec.”

Following, I stall right outside the doorway and spot a woman wandering around the garage with a paper bag and a drink carrier that holds two coffees.

“Americano with a splash of heavy cream, and a dozen donut holes,” she proclaims, spotting Cal moving toward her.

I glance at the slew of items in her hands, biting my lip at the notion that she seems to know exactly how he likes his coffee.

Then my eyes pan up to her face.

And for some reason, my insides curdle like spoiled milk.

She is pretty.

The mystery woman cranes her head around Cal’s big frame, noticing me hovering near the doorway tinkering with the edging of my long sleeves. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had company, Cal. I would have grabbed another coffee.”

Cal stops in front of her before sparing me a glance over his shoulder. He massages the back of his neck with his palm as he makes the introduction. “That’s Lucy, my new receptionist. She’s doing inventory for me today,” he says, meeting my wide-eyed gaze from a few feet away. “Lucy, this is Jolene. My ex.”

Jolene.

The friend.

The friend who is actually an ex.

Okay. Well, that’s fine. She seems nice.

“Hi,” I greet, lifting my hand in a little wave as I saunter forward. “I don’t drink coffee, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

She eyes me with a smile, bobbing her head up and down as long, curly black hair falls over both shoulders like an obsidian waterfall. Two big green eyes resembling that of a Disney princess skate back to Cal, countering the troves of dark leather that make her look more like the villain. She’s covered in tattoos—arms, neck, and the hint of toned belly that peeks out from below her crop top. Her body is athletic and fit, so it’s clear she loves working out more than eating muffins all day like me, and her boobs are…impressive. Really impressive.

She’s gorgeous.

And I have no idea why that has my chest caving in.

“You don’t drink coffee? That’s intriguing. You’ll have to teach me your ways because I could probably pay off my house in a year with all the money I’d save by giving up Dunkin.” Flashing me her teeth, she pops one of the coffee cups from the container and hands it to Cal, the little heat vapors swirling from the mouth hole. “Cal mentioned he finally hired someone. How are you liking it here?”

I smile back, inching closer. She seems friendly and approachable, so I shoo away the ridiculous waves of anxiety spilling into my psyche. “It’s been wonderful so far. I’m learning a lot.”

Jolene shoots Cal a wink, thrusting the bag of donut holes at him and reaching for her own coffee. She swivels toward a metal desk and hops up, swinging her stiletto-tipped feet back and forth. “Nice find, Cal. Where can I get one of those?”

He glances at me and scratches his cheek. “We were neighbors back in the day. She’s been great.”

“Great? She’s fucking gorgeous,” Jolene says before taking a swig of her drink. She winces like it scalded her. “I’m jealous of your eye candy. My receptionist looks like we purchased him off Wish dot com and he got lost in the mail.”

Laughter bursts out of me. “Um, thanks,” I tell her, pushing my baby hairs off my forehead. “That’s really sweet of you to say.” Still laughing, I add, “About me. Not the other guy.”

Grinning, she pops her eyebrows up and down. “I own a tattoo parlor. If Boss Man, here, ever gives you too much shit, come see me. Actually, come see me, anyway. I’ll give you half off your first design and I’ll try not to hit on you.”

Blush settles into my cheeks again.

“All right, let’s get this inventory taken care of,” Cal interjects, his stance turning to stone. Arms crossed, he settles his sights on me with a scowl. “Grab the folder off the desk and meet me in the storage room. I’ll walk you through it.”

“Okay,” I mutter.

When he stomps off, Jolene mouths, “Come see me,” before I duck my head with a smirk and rush off to fetch the folder and a pen. I trot back over and join Cal a few seconds later, geared up and ready to learn my way around gauges and meters.