Captain Swan-The Heart Never Forgets

CHAPTER FOUR

8 years ago...

"Well, aren't you a gentleman," Emma teases as she sinks into the chair I pulled out for her.

"I'm always a gentleman." I sit across from her, still not believing how beautiful she is. High cheekbones gently rounded and rosy with blush. Long, dark lashes, her pink lips a soft, inviting curve, holding a hint of a smile, even in repose. "After all, manners never go out of style."

She nods in agreement and removes her lid, taking a sip of her coffee. As I spot the lip gloss left behind on the rim of her cup, I imagine the color staining my white shirt in the shape of her lips. Or staining my neck. Somewhere to mark me as hers. I smile as I recall the coffee already staining my shirt. We only met ten minutes ago, but she's already left her mark on me.

Damn, am I really jealous of a cup? That's definitely a first for me.

Then she has to go and lick the whip cream off her mouth. And I wonder whether those full, alluring lips are as warm and sweet as they look, and I want to get lost in the softness of their touch. The way she moves that pink tongue of hers, a delicate dance across her lips...it's mesmerizing, hypnotic even, and I find myself shifting in my seat, unable to tear my gaze away.

"So, tell me,"—Clearing my throat, I lean forward, my elbows resting on the table—"what brings you to the front lines of coffee casualties this morning?" My attempt at humor is met with a playful glint in Emma's eyes as she returns the smile. "Do you frequent this place often? Or was today a special occasion to wear your coffee?"

"I do come here often, but it's not everyday I throw my latte at someone. Consider yourself lucky." As she speaks, her tongue darts out occasionally, brushing against her lips in a gesture that's both innocent and provocative. It's as if she's unaware of the effect it has on me, a surge of desire rushes through me every time I catch a glimpse of it.

I open my mouth to tell her I feel very lucky, but hold my tongue, not wanting to come on too strong.

As Emma traces the rim of her paper cup, I find myself drawn to the way she moves her finger and the graceful arc of her hand. "What about you? I haven't seen you here before?"

"I'm new in town. Just got relocated from the UK for my job."

"Really? What do you do?"

I lean forward as if I'm letting her in on a secret. "Well, don't tell anyone this, but I'm a chartered accountant." My lips crack into a smile. "Sounds boring, I know."

She shakes her head. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I mean, someone's gotta keep track of all those numbers, right?" she replies encouragingly with a smirk.

"But you see, Emma, accounting isn't just about crunching numbers and staring at spreadsheets all day. Sure, that's part of it, but there's so much more to it than tax codes and financial statements."

She arches her brow in surprise. "Really?"

"Aye. People tend to assume accounting is all about complex mathematical equations, that you need some fancy math degree, when in reality, the math we use is mostly just basic arithmetic we can plug into a calculator or Excel. A good accountant has to be able to build relationships and provide valuable guidance. They have to be a trusted advisor, someone who can navigate the complexities of the financial world while also understanding the unique goals and challenges of each client."

She tilts her head, as if she's considering my perspective. "So you're saying it's not about the numbers, it's about understanding the story behind the numbers?"

"Exactly," I affirm with a nod. "It's about the people."

She nods and sips her latte. "I bet you've got some fascinating stories to tell."