And she’d like to make it up to him.
“And I’d like to make it up to you, Carter.”
She wanted to pick up where they’d left off, hours shy of making love.
His lips parted and his muscles poised to drag her to him for a long kiss. Blood raced to his belly in anticipation of her yielding curves being pressed against him.
A sudden smile lifted the corners of her red mouth, revealing a high dimple. “That’s why I thought I’d let you know that not only do you qualify for a hefty employee discount at The Diamond Mine, but I will personally help you select an engagement ring for Trudy.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Wednesday afternoon, February 5, 2003
“WHEN SHOPPING for a diamond,” Faith recited for her apprehensive-looking client, Carter, “remember the four Cs. Cut, clarity, color and carat.” This wasn’t the first time she had helped an angst-ridden man pick out an engagement ring, but it was the first time that the undertaking had filled her with angst. But she’d had to do something when they were in the vault the other day—having Carter around was wreaking havoc on her senses. Her brain simply hadn’t accepted that he was unavailable, so what better way to drive the point home than to participate in his upcoming engagement?
As painful as it might be.
They were alone in the showroom. The Valentino diamond was locked away in the vault after another hard day of bringing in an amazing number of lookers, most of them women whom she and Stacy had persuaded to fill out a “wish list.” Tonight the data processors would enter the information into the database and generate “hint” postcards to the designated gift-givers on the person’s list. If the first three days were indicative of the kind of traffic they could expect over the next two weeks, The Diamond Mine would likely bring in some major revenue.
At least her business would benefit from Valentine’s Day this year, even if her heart wouldn’t.
From the vault she had set aside one small tray of exquisite engagement rings, most of them solitaire settings. Carter stood with mouth pursed, inspecting the dazzling display with a deer-in-the-headlight expression. His hands were sunk deep into his pockets, as if he were afraid to touch them. “By cut, you mean the shape?”
“Actually, the cut refers to how intricately the facets are arranged—how much the stone sparkles. But when most people say cut, they generally mean shape. And the shape does affect the way facets are cut.” She pointed to an oval diamond in a gold setting. “This one is exquisitely cut, but it has a lower color rating than some of the others.”
“Color?”
“The more clear, the better. Like this one.” She held up an emerald-cut solitaire set in silver so he could look at it from the side.
He nodded. “I see.”
She bit back a smile because she could tell he didn’t see at all. “And then there’s clarity, which simply refers to the tiny imperfections that occur naturally in nearly every diamond.” She handed him a pear-shaped solitaire in a platinum setting and invited him to look through her jeweler’s monocle. “This stone is of particularly good clarity.”
He reluctantly pressed his eye to the magnifying device. “Uh-huh.”
“And of course, there’s the carat weight, which seems to be rather important to most brides.” She forced a smile onto her face and handed him a round solitaire set in white gold. “Carat for carat, a round cut generally makes the most of the stone’s weight. This one is about three-quarters of a carat.”
“Hmm.” His face was a study of pure bewilderment, but Faith had been down this road before.
“Maybe we should start with the setting—does she wear gold jewelry or silver?”
“I…never noticed.”
“Okay. Would you say her style is more classic or more trendy?”
“Um, classic, I guess.”
A starting point. “Has she ever mentioned a particular shape that she likes? Maybe admired a friend’s ring?”
“Um, no.”
“Is her wardrobe dressy or sporty?”
“Sporty.” He coughed. “She likes baseball.”
“Not bowling?” she teased.
A boyish grin split his face. “She’s not as good a bowler as you are.”
His comment shouldn’t have cheered her so immensely. “Can you tell me anything else about her?”
“Um, she’s small. Blond. Finicky eater.”
Her cheer evaporated as a vision of a petite Barbie doll came to mind. “If she has small hands, any shape and size stone would look nice.” She quelled the stab of jealousy and curled her own long fingers under.
He scratched his head and gave a dry laugh. “I didn’t realize there was so much to consider.”
Faith nodded. “It’s an important decision. She’ll wear this ring for the rest of her life.” She’d delivered that line a thousand times, but she’d never been so personally invested in its claim.
“I would want my bride to have the best ring I could afford,” he said slowly.
The money part was always sticky, and she didn’t want to pry into his personal finances. “A general rule of thumb is to invest two months’ salary in an engagement ring, but that’s up to the individual.”
He nodded, then laughed. “Two months of a cop’s salary probably won’t touch one of these babies.” He turned over a price tag and blanched. “Or four months.” He shoved his hand into his hair and shook his head. “I had no idea that women expect…all this.”
“Don’t forget the thirty-five percent employee discount,” she murmured.
“That’s very generous of you,” he said, his tone suddenly quiet. “But I’d better give this some more thought.”
Faith realized with a sinking heart that she would give him a ring for the woman he loved if it would put a smile back on his handsome face. And just like that, it hit her—she wasn’t over Carter, not by a long shot. And even though he was lost to her, she couldn’t bear to see him suffer.
“Carter.” She reached forward and touched his hand. “When you really love someone, it’s not about the ring.”
He was silent for a few seconds, then put his other hand over hers, sandwiching her pale fingers between his strong, tanned ones. He lifted his gaze and smiled sadly. “Faith, don’t tell me you wouldn’t expect the man who proposed to you to come bearing a nice rock.”
Her hand tingled between his. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she whispered. “If a man I loved asked me to be his wife, I’d wear any ring he offered.”
“You would?”
Her heart thudded in her chest. When she realized she was getting too caught up in a moment meant for another woman, she pulled her hand free. “Any woman would, and I suspect Trudy feels the same.”
He looked down, then wet his lips and looked up again. “Faith.”
The way he said her name stalled her heart. Throaty. Engorged with emotion. “Yes, Carter?”
His eyes seemed pained. “I—”
A rap on the door caught her attention, and his. Her partner Jamie walked in, laden with briefcase, purse, and accordion files. “I saw the light.” Jamie’s gaze went to Carter and she stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“You’re not,” Faith said quickly. “I’m helping Carter pick out a ring for his fiancé.” She conjured up a smile. “He’s going to propose on Valentine’s Day.” She had filled Jamie in on her history with Carter, with a disclaimer that he was almost engaged. But she had seen the knowing looks that Jamie and Dixie had traded over coffee. Best to nip their rampant speculation in the bud.
“Oh,” Jamie said. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”
He shifted foot to foot, then nodded his thanks.
“Got big plans tonight?” Faith asked Jamie, to change the subject.
“Not really. I might meet Dev later.”
Faith tried to suppress her smile. “Dev?”
“Yeah.” Jamie’s cheeks took on a telltale rosy tone. “Uh, want to join us?”
“No, thanks. Some other time.”
Jamie looked relieved. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”
Faith waved and murmured, “And they lived happily ever after.” Those two were really becoming an item, and she couldn’t be more pleased. She laughed and looked back to Carter to find his intense gaze fastened on to her. “I’m sorry, Carter—you were saying?”
But whatever had been in his eyes and on his mind before Jamie came in had fled. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”
But she’d had the strangest feeling he’d been about to confide in her. Was the big man getting cold feet as the day of reckoning approached? A sliver of vindication pierced her that maybe she’d been right—maybe he wasn’t commitment material.
But just as quickly as it came, the satisfaction disappeared. Because Carter Grayson, a man who was unable to commit, was just as lost to her as Carter Grayson, married man.
CHAPTER FIVE
Thursday evening, February 6, 2003
CARTER EXTENDED the leg press machine, grunting as the healing muscles in his thigh were taxed to exhaustion. He made it through two more repetitions by imagining Ben Sills’s face on the receiving end of the weight plate. The man had tested his patience today, flirting shamelessly with Faith. And she hadn’t held back, either, which was strange considering Mr. Traveling-Around-the-Country-with-a-Stupid-Rock didn’t exactly strike him as commitment material.