Even if I hadn't spoken to Carter earlier, I would know something is wrong the second I slide into the passenger seat of his SUV.

His eyes are dark, a storm on the horizon. His jaw clenches tight, the scruff on his cheeks and chin several days old. A baseball hat is pulled low over his eyes, and his shoulders slump as if he's Atlas, literally carrying the weight of the world.

"What's going on?" I ask gently, clicking in my seatbelt.

He looks over at me and for a fraction of a second, his face softens, and the right side of his mouth pulls up into an almost grin. But by the time we merge onto the main road, his glum outlook is firmly back in place.

"I need to sell something."

"Okay."

"I need to get a good price for it. I know it's valuable, but I have no idea how to go about these things and get what I need so last minute. Feel me?"

I watch him, my concern for him heightening with each word that falls from his mouth. His monotone, almost bored tone is one I've never heard from him before and I hate it. He’s so different in comparison to his usual, joking and charming self, I want to shake him until he reacts.

"What is it?"

"A pendant. Alexandrite."

I raise my eyebrows. Alexandrite. You're alexandrite. "Where'd you get it?"

He turns toward me sharply at the question, his eyes boring into mine for a moment as if daring me to ask him if it's legit, if he swiped it off someone else, or if he's dragging me into something I have no right being a part of.

But in the small amount of time that I've known Carter, I've been able to get a real pulse on him. I know that he wants me to think the worst of him, that for some bizarre reason, he thinks he deserves my scorn instead of the benefit of the doubt. But I know he would never deliberately hurt me. He couldn't.

"It was my mother's," he says eventually, the words sticking in his throat.

"Why are you selling it?" I nearly whisper, knowing that the expression on his face, the one full of pain and sadness and... emptiness, means this isn't something he wants to do.

"I have to."

I chew my bottom lip, understanding that if I press for any details, he'll cut me off. Carter has confided in me a lot, but knowing that he's told me some personal things that his own family doesn't know, means he's not used to trusting someone. I don't want to push him away; I want him to know that he can count on me. That I'm here for him. That I'm his.

"How much do you need for it?"

"Bottom line?" He shoots me another look, a mixture of expressions so dark and forlorn, I can't pull one out.

I nod.

"Fifty."

"Thousand?" My mouth drops open in surprise.

"Yeah."

"By when?"

"Tomorrow. At the absolute latest."

"What happens if you don't have it?" A tingle pricks the back of my neck and shimmies down my spine. My hands suddenly feel clammy and my throat raw. For the first time in his presence, I'm afraid. Not of him, but for him. And for some reason, that feels even worse.

He shakes his head, looking straight at the road.

"You can tell me."

"I know."

"So?"

"It's better you don't know." His voice breaks at the end, and my mind splinters into a hundred possible outcomes, each one bleaker than the one before it.

Oh God.

"Fifty-thousand," I repeat.

"Yes."

"Let me see the pendant."

He nods to a small pouch in the cup holder, and I pick it up gingerly, weighing the weight of the gem in my hand. It's heavier than I thought, which is a good sign. Opening the pouch, I pour its contents into my hand, and my heart catches in my chest.

I breathe out low, my eyes widening at the beautiful pendant on a simple white-gold chain that dips between my fingers.

"It's breathtaking," I whisper, the color of the gem shifting in the sunlight, as if by magic. "It's real?"

"Of course."

"But the color?"

"It changes. It looks blue-green outside and purple-red inside."

"It's incredible."

His mouth ticks up in the corners, but he looks sad. "What do you think?"

I study the gem for several seconds, taking in the shape and weight and shimmering color. "It's beautiful, but let me handle it, okay?"

His eyes narrow at me. "Handle what?"

"Negotiations with Pierre," I explain, my mind already concocting the story we're going to sell.

If Carter is selling his mother’s jewelry, then he desperately needs the money. I can’t let him down and I can’t mess this up.

Pierre's Bijouterie is on a small, almost-alleyway off of River Street. Tucked in between a bed and breakfast and a souvenir shop, you would walk right past it if you weren't looking for it. I think that's part of Pierre's overall plan, hiding in plain sight.

A connoisseur of gemstones and jewelry, Pierre has been my family's jeweler since I was a baby. Now in his sixties, Pierre is a good-looking man, quiet and thoughtful, but with a sharp eye and an even sharper mind.

Not much gets past him but with my family name, a quick Google search, and a bit of luck, I'm hoping I can pull this charade off. Not to dupe him because he can't be duped. But to get Carter a better price than if he took the alexandrite to anyone else. To make sure that Carter gets exactly what it's worth, if not more. He may not want to tell me why he's selling the pendant, but the pained expression on his face means it's important. And I don't want to let him down. Not now. Not ever.

"You ready?" I ask Carter before we enter the jeweler.

He nods, his face grim, his hat pulled low, so I can't read his eyes.

Pushing open the shop door, a small bell tinkles as we stand in the entryway, waiting for access to the shop. A buzzing sound clicks, and the heavy door reinforced with metal bars opens slowly, granting us access.

I step inside and immediately meet Pierre's warm eyes, an undercurrent of curiosity flashing through them.

"Taylor, cheri." He strides forward, clasping my hands in his and placing a kiss to each of my cheeks.

"Hello, Pierre. It's wonderful to see you."

"You as well, dear. How are your parents? They're not with you today?" He peers over my shoulder, and I notice the slight stiffening of his shoulders when he catches sight of Carter.

"They're very well, thanks for asking. Recently back from California. Unfortunately, they couldn't join me in the city today, but I brought my friend, Carter." I tuck my fingers into the crook of Carter's elbow and pull him beside me, digging my fingernails lightly into his skin to reassure him that we're in this together.

"Um, it's good to meet you." Carter extends a hand awkwardly, and Pierre, ever-polite Pierre, takes it for a quick shake.

"You as well, Mr…"

"Kane," I supply.

Pierre nods. "Well, what can I help you with today?" he asks, a sudden gleam appearing in his blue eyes. "We're not diamond shopping, are we?"

I let out a light laugh that sounds casual and relaxed while Carter turns a pasty white next to me, his body tensing.

"Not today. I'm hoping you can help me with something else." I pull the small pouch from my purse and hold it gently in my hand as Pierre's eyes cut to the back, and he gestures for us to join him at the counter.

Pulling out a soft cloth, a light, and his loupe, Pierre holds a hand out tentatively. "May I?'

"Of course." I pass him the pouch and watch him closely as he opens the end and gently pours out the pendant. A gasp escapes his throat, and his eyes widen in surprise. It's an expression I've never seen on him before, and I know that this pendant is the real deal. And that Carter is about to get exactly what he needs for whatever he needs the money for.

"This is beautiful," Pierre says in an off-hand way, trying to recover from his first reaction.

"Thank you."

"It's yours?" He fixes me with a concerned look. "Why ever would you want to part with this, dear?"

I shake my head lightly. "It's actually a family heirloom of the Kanes’," I admit honestly, taking a small inhale to push forth with the rest of my story. "His sister is interested in medical school," I say, shrugging, "and you know how expensive that can be."

Pierre nods absently, his eyes fixed on the alexandrite, his fingers gently gliding over the surface of the stone.

"It’s been in his family for quite some time. Originally from the Ural Mountains in Russia, this gem—"

"Is an 'emerald by day and a ruby by night.' I've seen many of them, as they are associated with June as a birthstone, but not of this quality. This quality is extremely rare and worth a great deal." He narrows his eyes at Carter. "You sure you want to part with it, son?"

Carter clears his throat and gives a stiff nod. "It was my mother's," he says, and the emotion in his voice is clear.

Pierre's expression softens, and I realize we don't even need to have a charade. Carter's going to sell this story all on his own.

"She passed, and I've been saving it for my... sister. But my mother would have wanted her to pursue her dreams, and my family realized that my sister will benefit more from a medical education." The lie passes from his lips so convincingly that I jerk back, unable to hide my surprise.

Pierre makes a noncommittal sound in his throat.

"Carter's had several offers from jewelers in Georgia as well as in California and New York," I say breezily, turning back to Pierre and watching as he shifts his body weight. "I told him you were the best, though, and wanted to offer you the first option in acquiring it."

Pierre is quiet, thoughtful.

"We'll give you a moment to consider the stone," I say, sweeping my hand down Carter's arm until our hands intertwine. I tug gently, and we walk over to other counters where I point out random gemstones and draw him into a conversation that I know he could care less about having.

When my eyes fasten on the case with engagement rings, a small smile crosses my mouth.

"How much does a ring like this cost?" Carter asks under his breath, his eyes trained on the ring in front of us.

"A lot."

"How much?"

I shrug. "About eighty."

"Thousand?" he says loudly, and I nod, biting my lower lip to keep from laughing at his outburst.

"For a ring?" he continues, incredulous.

"It's a three-point-five carat, flawless solitaire. Probably D color. Yep, I'd guess around eighty thousand."

Carter whistles lowly under his breath and I grin.

"I can't imagine."

"What?"

"Spending that much," he says, shaking his head, "no, having that much money to spend on a ring."

I take a step forward to continue our perusal of the counter.

"Is that what you want?" he asks suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"A ring like that." He points to the engagement ring again. "Is that the type of ring that Barrington would buy you? Is that the type of ring you'd like to wear one day?" His voice is low, a tightness around his mouth and eyes that wasn't there moments ago.

I gather my hair over one shoulder and turn to face him. "Yes, that's the type of ring Barrington will buy for his future wife," I answer honestly and watch as he chews the corner of his mouth, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"And no, that's not the type of ring I'd like to wear one day."

His eyes find me, curiosity and confusion burning in their green depths. "It's not?"

I shake my head, tugging on his hand as we round the counters until we're in front of brightly colored and various-shaped gemstones.

"No, I want to be engaged one day. With the right person, of course."

"Of course," Carter agrees, warmth infused in his tone once more.

"And I'd hope that the person I marry one day knows me well enough to know that I'd love a ring that is unique. Something different than most women would want."

"Like the alexandrite?"

"Yes, like that."

"Or something like this?" Carter asks, pointing to a stunning two-carat, emerald-cut, chrome tourmaline in a simple white-gold band.

My breath catches in my throat as I stare at the ring. It's beautiful. Perfect. My heart beats faster in my chest, and a strange sensation fills me, flooding my throat until I feel tears prick behind my eyes.

I nod, too scared to say anything to ruin the moment. With the warmth of Carter's hand on my lower back, his familiar scent of cedar mixed with soap, wrapping around me, I close my eyes and try to capture this feeling, so I can take it out and hold onto it in the future.

Carter's fingers brush along my hip as he keeps walking, checking out the gemstones.

And I open my eyes, taking in the beautiful ring once more—the chrome tourmaline a perfect reflection of the color of Carter's eyes.

"Taylor?" Pierre calls from behind me, and I run my fingers under my eyes to ensure no moisture collected there.

Turning around, I raise my eyebrows as I walk closer. Carter is behind me, his steps languid, measured.

"I'd like to make you an offer," Pierre says as we approach. "Sixty thousand." He lifts his gaze, and the blue of his eyes is sharp and shining. "It's a fair price," he states, continuing to explain the value of the gemstone and points out several deficiencies. After a lengthy explanation and encouraging Carter and me to look through his loupe, he steps away to give us a minute to discuss his offer.

"What do you think?" I ask, turning toward Carter.

He stands stock-still, his bottom lip pinned under his top one.

"I can't believe this. It's too good to be true. There's gotta be a catch," he whispers, and I'm not sure if he's speaking to me or himself. Or both.

"The money won't show up in your bank account until tomorrow," I remind him.

He nods, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You think he's telling the truth?"

"Yes. It is a fair price. Maybe you could get more for it if you shop around and spend a lot of time researching but—"

"Time isn't a luxury I have right now."

"Exactly."

"Okay." He blows out a deep breath, as his hand falls to his side. "Let's do it."

"Okay," I call Pierre back and final arrangements are made. Pierre makes the transfer to Carter's account, and Carter sends one last, lovingly painful look at the pendant.

Then we leave, stepping out of the quiet of Pierre's shop and into the bustle of River Street.

"Want to have lunch?" Carter asks, tilting his head toward me.

"Sure," I agree, goosebumps working up my arms.

A day date with Carter. I bite back my laughter as we walk down River Street.