Faith sighed. Maybe so, if she were willing to fall for a man who was a no-show on the most romantic day of the year.
She slid off the stool and tested her weight on feet that had gone a little numb from sitting. “I’d like to settle my tab,” she said to the bartender, pulling on her long wool coat—one did not toy with Chicago weather in February.
Dixie waved her off. “It’s on the house, hon. Happy Valentine’s Day.” She leaned forward and whispered, “The man’s a fool.” Then she handed Faith a stack of napkins and gave her arm a sympathetic pat. “For the ride home.”
Faith swallowed hard and stuffed the napkins into her purse. This was definitely a night for Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra ice cream. She sniffed, lifted her chin, and headed for the door, thinking ahead to what was on television tonight. Her feet hurt and a headache was coming on, but she’d feel better once she got home and into her fuzzy yellow robe.
She was about ten feet from the entrance when the door opened and Carter Grayson breezed in, dressed in jeans, T-shirt and leather bomber jacket, his jet hair still damp and holding the lines of his comb. She registered the fact that he seemed to be uninjured, but her relief at his blatant well-being quickly turned to irritation. He was a lumberjack of a man, wide and tall, with the face of a mischievous boy. She had liked the look of him from the moment he’d walked into Zerrick’s Jewelry following a robbery attempt just after Christmas. Allegedly, he had liked the look of her, too.
“Hey,” he said with a smile that took her breath away. “Sorry I’m late. I lost track of time and—” He stopped and inspected her dress. “Wow, you look nice. What’s the occasion?”
Faith blinked. “Dinner. With you.”
He pursed his mouth and looked her over again, his gaze lingering on her strappy high heels. “Okay. Well, I thought we’d have a beer first, then get some ribs at Nuke’s, but maybe we should see if we can get a table here instead.” He took in the packed restaurant. “Sure is busy for a weeknight.”
Pure, abject, unadulterated mortification bled through her. With fumbling fingers, she began to button her coat. “That’s because it’s V-Valentine’s Day.”
He looked back, eyebrows high, then realization dawned. “Oh…right.”
She wanted to evaporate, and cursed herself for not leaving sooner. “Good night, Carter.” She flung the ends of her scarf around her neck, and walked out the door into the frigid temperatures. In her next-to-nothing shoes, her feet were instant blocks of ice. An arctic blast stung her eyes and dislodged one pin, then another, from her careful upswept do. She blinked back tears. Why had she even bothered? Walking to the curb, she held up her arm to hail a cab. Booted footsteps sounded behind her.
“Faith, wait!” He touched her arm, but she pulled away. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. We can still have dinner.”
She swallowed hard, unable to look at him. What a fool she was. She had read far too much into their casual dates and occasional phone conversations. “I’m going home.”
“I’ll take you home.”
She opened her purse and withdrew her leather gloves. “No. I don’t want to see you anymore, Carter.”
Silence. Then, “Let me make it up to you.”
A cab slowed and pulled in next to the curb. She reached for the door handle and his warm hand closed over hers.
“Faith,” he said softly, earnestly. “I’d like to see your pretty dress.”
She swung her gaze up to his. Big mistake, because the intensity in his green eyes reminded her of everything she’d wanted to happen tonight—for them to take their fledgling relationship to the next level. But while she had been thinking Valentine’s Day candlelight and romance, he had been thinking Thursday night beer and ribs. And worse, now he knew what she’d been hoping for. He knew she cared more.
She tugged open the cab door. “Goodbye, Carter.”
He hovered behind her as she slid into the seat. “Faith, it doesn’t have to end like this,” he said, spanning the open door.
“Yes, it does.”
“But why? I thought we had a good thing going.”
She was glad his face was cast in shadows—it made him easier to resist. “It’s my fault, Carter. I’m looking for something you’re not prepared to offer.”
He glanced around, as if whatever she was looking for might suddenly appear. “What’s that?”
Faith wanted to shake him, but his cluelessness seemed dishearteningly sincere. He was lost to her, but maybe the next woman could benefit from her gross miscalculation. “What am I looking for? A re-la-tion-ship. A bona fide, old-fashioned, oneman, one-woman thing. Let’s face it, Carter, you are not commitment material.”
Her words must have sufficiently stunned or angered him, because he stepped back as she slammed the cab door closed. She gave the cabbie her address in a choked voice, dug in her purse for a napkin, and resisted the urge to look back as they drove away.
Carter Grayson stood watching the cab pull away, feeling as if he’d been hit by a double-decker bus. Faith Sherman was one hell of a looker and could hold her own at a pool table—not at all what he’d expected out of the daughter of one of the oldest, wealthiest families in Chicago. He’d thought they were having fun and maybe were headed for a good no-strings-attached roll in the hay.
Or two.
He had no idea she wanted…all that other stuff. Especially from him, a roughneck whose original art collection consisted of his niece’s crayon drawings, and whose wardrobe was dictated by which pair of jeans happened to be clean.
You’d think that one of the guys at the precinct would’ve informed him today was Valentine’s Day—a suspect holiday at best, but one that somehow had been elevated to the status of relationship benchmark. And apparently, he had failed. Horribly.
Carter sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Perhaps he should have foregone police work and looked into soothsaying. It appeared he was never going to master this dating thing until he could learn to read a woman’s mind. Still, dammit, he’d never been dumped before.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted an object lying on the sidewalk where Faith had stepped into the cab. Had she dropped something? He squatted and a dry laugh escaped him. A condom?
Well, well, he and the lovely lady might have been entertaining some of the same thoughts, after all. He stood and slipped the packet into his jacket pocket, then stared in the direction she’d gone. For a split second, he was struck by the sensation that he’d just missed out on more than a night of excellent sex.
Carter rubbed at the sudden tightness in his chest and, to his relief, the feeling passed.
CHAPTER ONE
Saturday morning, February 1, 2003
FAITH FINGERED the brass nameplate on her desk: Faith Sherman, Owner And Manager, Diamond Mine Jewelry. “I owe you one, Dev,” she said into the phone.
“So did Captain Stewart,” Dev said. “That’s why he promised to personally select a light-duty officer to handle the security for this Valentino diamond. He said a uniform would stop by the jewelry store this afternoon for instructions.”
She hoped “light duty” didn’t mean inexperienced, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And she couldn’t very well expect the city of Chicago to take one of its finest officers off the street to baby-sit a pretty rock. “Thanks, Dev. I’ll phone the insurance company to let them know we’ll have an extra armed guard on the premises.”
“Jamie said you have great coverage lined up to let the public know the stone will be on display. The crowds could be huge.”
“Let’s just hope that huge crowds lead to huge sales. We need a strong Valentine’s Day showing.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “You and Jamie have been talking a lot lately.”
“Um…listen, sis, there’s a phone call on the other line that I need to take. See you for coffee in the morning?”
“Sure.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” Faith hung up the phone and smiled. Dev and her business partner, Jamie, had both been acting strange lately when she mentioned the other person’s name. Maybe this Valentine’s Day would be successful for somebody. She leaned back in her desk chair and sighed. After last year’s fiasco with Carter Grayson, she had written off all future emotional expectations for the most romantic day of the year. Instead, she was planning her first vacation since the opening of The Red Doors boutique at the beginning of November. This February 14, after she locked the doors on The Diamond Mine—the self-contained jewelry store that was her domain in the upscale mall—she was heading for the airport and a week of blissful solitude on Captiva Island, Florida. She would be far away from the chilly temperatures of Chicago, and the chilly reminder that, once again, she was alone on Valentine’s Day.
Faith pushed to her feet and hugged herself. Almost a year later, it was still impossible to remember that evening waiting for Carter and to not feel overcome with humiliation. She hadn’t seen him or talked to him since.
Not that she’d expected to after laying all of her expectations at his feet like that. Still, she had no regrets. She did wonder from time to time, though, about his safety considering his somewhat cavalier attitude about his own well-being.