Chapter 12
Jordan wearily pulled off her scrubs and put back on her business suit, not bothering to button the blouse quite all the way up. She didn't have the heart to put on the high heels yet. She'd wait until she was ready to walk out the door and slip them on. "Damn," she thought as she glanced at her watch. It showed 10:28. "I bet Woody thinks I did this on purpose."
She winced at what his reaction might be. But she was too tired to really care. If he didn't believe her, he could read the morgue reports tomorrow. All she really wanted now was a hot shower and bed. Moving slowly, she pushed the double doors of the crypt open with her behind and walked backwards out of them...and right into Woody.
"Woody..." she began, her voice faltering. Seeing him again was torment. She wasn't sure if he believed she had been working or not. After all, her scrubs were back in the ladies' locker room.
"Hi," he said softly. "Heard you had a long day."
"Yeah," Jordan began, starting to explain.
Woody simply took her suit coat out of her arms and her shoes out of her hand and began to escort her to the door.
"I don't think I'm up to dinner right now," Jordan warned.
"I know. I'm not taking you to dinner, I'm taking you somewhere you can get some rest." And with that he walked her through the morgue's exit and into his car, without letting her put her shoes on.
Jordan assumed he was taking her back to her apartment. She closed her eyes as he drove through town and was nearly asleep when he said "Here we are."
This was not Pearle Street. It was a high rise Boston hotel. "What are we doing here?" she turned and asked Woody, a bewildered look on her face.
"Taking somewhere you can get some rest."
"But...."
"No 'buts' Jordan," Woody said, climbing out of his car and going around to open her car door. "No 'ifs' and 'ands', either." He handed her shoes and allowed her to put those back on before he led her through the hotel lobby and into the elevators.
"Where are we going?" she asked again.
Woody didn't reply. He simply pushed the button for the seventh floor and waited for the doors to open again. Then he escorted Jordan down the hall and inserted a door card. The doors opened and Woody gently pushed Jordan into the room.
It was an immaculate hotel suite overlooking downtown Boston. Jordan could see the lights of the city. Slowly she walked over to the windows and was taking in the sight while Woody was giving someone directions over the house phone. When he was finished, she turned to him.
"Where are we, Woody?"
"This is where I'm staying while I'm in Boston. And tonight you're going to stay here, too." He reached out and plucked her cell phone from its holder on her hip and took the battery out of the back. He pocketed the battery and gave her back her phone.
"What the hell is going on?" Jordan was almost fuming. "Give that back."
"Nope. Not until Monday. You are officially off duty. I've talked to Macy and you're covered at the morgue. Your dad knows where you are and is fine with it. Everyone said you need to get some rest. The suite has an extra bedroom and no one knows you're here. You need to rest."
"But I don't have any of my things," she protested.
"Got that covered, too. Lily went by your apartment for me and got some of your stuff. It's all in the spare bedroom. You're set for the weekend."
"Woody, I can't do this."
Woody walked over to her and put his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her between the windows and himself. "Can't or won't, Jordan? You're working too hard, you're not eating right, and a little English birdie told me he thought I could be part of the reason. I may not be able to make everything right tonight, but easing my conscious by allowing you to get some rest is going to go a long way in helping."
Jordan could feel Woody's eyes roaming over her, lingering where she had stopped buttoning her blouse, then continuing back up to look her in the eyes. "Go get ready for bed, Jo. I'll be in in a minute to tuck you in and make sure you stay there." He turned her and gave her a push towards the bedroom.
Jordan showered and opened the bag that Lily packed, hoping her nondescript sleep pants and old t-shirt was packed. She was still fuming about being "kidnapped" by Woody and even more ticked off that Macy, Lily, and her dad had been in on it. No such luck on the sleep pants. Lily had packed a short, silky sleep shirt. Still pissed, Jordan jerked it on and combed her hair. She opened the bathroom door to find her sheets turned down and a glass of wine by the bed. She sighed. "Damn. He's making it difficult to be angry at him." A sly thought flickered through her head. She wondered if she was up to it, but it would be worth it to get back at Woody. Throwing off her bathrobe, she sat down in the middle of the bed and sipped the wine. Let him find her in her lingerie. Let's see how he reacts to that.
A soft tap came at the door. "Ready to be tucked in?" Woody asked.
"Sure thing, come on in."
This time it was Woody's turn to be surprised. There was Jordan in the middle of the bed in this ...this.... lingerie. Her long legs were stretched out in front of her and the sleep shirt barely stopped below her hips. He'd bet his bottom dollar that she had nothing on underneath it, either. He swallowed hard. "Uh, maybe this isn't a good idea," he mumbled.
"Hold it right there, Farm Boy. You promised to tuck me in. You going to run out on me again?"
Woody lowered his eyes to the floor. "Touche'," he thought. "Okay, Jordan, get under the covers and I'll tuck you in," he said, thinking that if she was at least covered by the sheets he could think logically and behave rationally. That was something he needed to do very badly because right now the only thing he could think of was crawling under those sheets with her.
What he wasn't prepared for was the production she put on getting under the covers. She slowly slid off the bed, letting the sleep shirt scrunch up around her bottom, not really showing anything, but promising a lot. Just as slowly, she pulled the covers back and climbed in the bed, slowly, one long leg at a time. From under her lashes, she noticed watched Woody take in every move and his growing discomfort with a certain part of his anatomy. Grinning to herself, she realized who was really in control of this situation. Woody had just lost a round to her. "Okay, Woody," she said when she was safely under the covers.
Woody came over and bent to tuck the covers around her, not prepared for the way her scent would wreathe around him and snag his senses. Her hair was spread out on the pillow and she was waiting for him to tell her good night. He momentarily forgot everything as he lost himself in her eyes again. "Good night, Woody," Jordan said.
Momentarily jarred from his train of thought, Woody responded. "Night." He brushed her curls from her eyes and rose to leave. He paused at the door. "You're still going to be here in the morning, aren't you?"
"I gave up running away three years ago, Woody."
Woody stumbled back to his bedroom, still having problems with his southern parts. He cursed himself for coming up with this idea, but he honestly wanted Jordan to get some rest. He had assumed that once she realized she was relieved of all responsibility this weekend, she would obediently get into bed and sleep the rest of the weekend away. Despite the fact that she had obviously changed during his absence, some things never change, he thought wryly. He had wrongly assumed that while he was gone, Jordan had become more reasonable. He realized now that she was getting back some of her own revenge of what he had done to her.
He flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, still thinking of Jordan. Nigel had said to let her lead this dance, and he was still trying to figure out where she was going with it. He knew where he wanted it to go. Despite the fact that for three years, he had tried to get her out of his system, he couldn't. All the farm work, all the sweat, all the heat couldn't erase her from his mind or heart. And seeing her now just brought that fact back more sharply into focus. He had been crazy to leave her this long and thank the powers that be that she hadn't found someone else in his absence. If he couldn't do anything else right in his life, he was going to win her and keep her this time. Just as soon as he got her rested and feeling better. Woody sighed and looked at the clock. Two a.m. He wondered if Jordan was having trouble sleeping, too. Without thinking twice, he got up and padded across the living area of the suite to her bedroom and peeked in. She was on her side, facing the door, curled up and clutching a pillow – sound asleep. Woody chuckled softly to himself. "At least one of us is resting," he thought.
Jordan wearily pulled off her scrubs and put back on her business suit, not bothering to button the blouse quite all the way up. She didn't have the heart to put on the high heels yet. She'd wait until she was ready to walk out the door and slip them on. "Damn," she thought as she glanced at her watch. It showed 10:28. "I bet Woody thinks I did this on purpose."
She winced at what his reaction might be. But she was too tired to really care. If he didn't believe her, he could read the morgue reports tomorrow. All she really wanted now was a hot shower and bed. Moving slowly, she pushed the double doors of the crypt open with her behind and walked backwards out of them...and right into Woody.
"Woody..." she began, her voice faltering. Seeing him again was torment. She wasn't sure if he believed she had been working or not. After all, her scrubs were back in the ladies' locker room.
"Hi," he said softly. "Heard you had a long day."
"Yeah," Jordan began, starting to explain.
Woody simply took her suit coat out of her arms and her shoes out of her hand and began to escort her to the door.
"I don't think I'm up to dinner right now," Jordan warned.
"I know. I'm not taking you to dinner, I'm taking you somewhere you can get some rest." And with that he walked her through the morgue's exit and into his car, without letting her put her shoes on.
Jordan assumed he was taking her back to her apartment. She closed her eyes as he drove through town and was nearly asleep when he said "Here we are."
This was not Pearle Street. It was a high rise Boston hotel. "What are we doing here?" she turned and asked Woody, a bewildered look on her face.
"Taking somewhere you can get some rest."
"But...."
"No 'buts' Jordan," Woody said, climbing out of his car and going around to open her car door. "No 'ifs' and 'ands', either." He handed her shoes and allowed her to put those back on before he led her through the hotel lobby and into the elevators.
"Where are we going?" she asked again.
Woody didn't reply. He simply pushed the button for the seventh floor and waited for the doors to open again. Then he escorted Jordan down the hall and inserted a door card. The doors opened and Woody gently pushed Jordan into the room.
It was an immaculate hotel suite overlooking downtown Boston. Jordan could see the lights of the city. Slowly she walked over to the windows and was taking in the sight while Woody was giving someone directions over the house phone. When he was finished, she turned to him.
"Where are we, Woody?"
"This is where I'm staying while I'm in Boston. And tonight you're going to stay here, too." He reached out and plucked her cell phone from its holder on her hip and took the battery out of the back. He pocketed the battery and gave her back her phone.
"What the hell is going on?" Jordan was almost fuming. "Give that back."
"Nope. Not until Monday. You are officially off duty. I've talked to Macy and you're covered at the morgue. Your dad knows where you are and is fine with it. Everyone said you need to get some rest. The suite has an extra bedroom and no one knows you're here. You need to rest."
"But I don't have any of my things," she protested.
"Got that covered, too. Lily went by your apartment for me and got some of your stuff. It's all in the spare bedroom. You're set for the weekend."
"Woody, I can't do this."
Woody walked over to her and put his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her between the windows and himself. "Can't or won't, Jordan? You're working too hard, you're not eating right, and a little English birdie told me he thought I could be part of the reason. I may not be able to make everything right tonight, but easing my conscious by allowing you to get some rest is going to go a long way in helping."
Jordan could feel Woody's eyes roaming over her, lingering where she had stopped buttoning her blouse, then continuing back up to look her in the eyes. "Go get ready for bed, Jo. I'll be in in a minute to tuck you in and make sure you stay there." He turned her and gave her a push towards the bedroom.
Jordan showered and opened the bag that Lily packed, hoping her nondescript sleep pants and old t-shirt was packed. She was still fuming about being "kidnapped" by Woody and even more ticked off that Macy, Lily, and her dad had been in on it. No such luck on the sleep pants. Lily had packed a short, silky sleep shirt. Still pissed, Jordan jerked it on and combed her hair. She opened the bathroom door to find her sheets turned down and a glass of wine by the bed. She sighed. "Damn. He's making it difficult to be angry at him." A sly thought flickered through her head. She wondered if she was up to it, but it would be worth it to get back at Woody. Throwing off her bathrobe, she sat down in the middle of the bed and sipped the wine. Let him find her in her lingerie. Let's see how he reacts to that.
A soft tap came at the door. "Ready to be tucked in?" Woody asked.
"Sure thing, come on in."
This time it was Woody's turn to be surprised. There was Jordan in the middle of the bed in this ...this.... lingerie. Her long legs were stretched out in front of her and the sleep shirt barely stopped below her hips. He'd bet his bottom dollar that she had nothing on underneath it, either. He swallowed hard. "Uh, maybe this isn't a good idea," he mumbled.
"Hold it right there, Farm Boy. You promised to tuck me in. You going to run out on me again?"
Woody lowered his eyes to the floor. "Touche'," he thought. "Okay, Jordan, get under the covers and I'll tuck you in," he said, thinking that if she was at least covered by the sheets he could think logically and behave rationally. That was something he needed to do very badly because right now the only thing he could think of was crawling under those sheets with her.
What he wasn't prepared for was the production she put on getting under the covers. She slowly slid off the bed, letting the sleep shirt scrunch up around her bottom, not really showing anything, but promising a lot. Just as slowly, she pulled the covers back and climbed in the bed, slowly, one long leg at a time. From under her lashes, she noticed watched Woody take in every move and his growing discomfort with a certain part of his anatomy. Grinning to herself, she realized who was really in control of this situation. Woody had just lost a round to her. "Okay, Woody," she said when she was safely under the covers.
Woody came over and bent to tuck the covers around her, not prepared for the way her scent would wreathe around him and snag his senses. Her hair was spread out on the pillow and she was waiting for him to tell her good night. He momentarily forgot everything as he lost himself in her eyes again. "Good night, Woody," Jordan said.
Momentarily jarred from his train of thought, Woody responded. "Night." He brushed her curls from her eyes and rose to leave. He paused at the door. "You're still going to be here in the morning, aren't you?"
"I gave up running away three years ago, Woody."
Woody stumbled back to his bedroom, still having problems with his southern parts. He cursed himself for coming up with this idea, but he honestly wanted Jordan to get some rest. He had assumed that once she realized she was relieved of all responsibility this weekend, she would obediently get into bed and sleep the rest of the weekend away. Despite the fact that she had obviously changed during his absence, some things never change, he thought wryly. He had wrongly assumed that while he was gone, Jordan had become more reasonable. He realized now that she was getting back some of her own revenge of what he had done to her.
He flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, still thinking of Jordan. Nigel had said to let her lead this dance, and he was still trying to figure out where she was going with it. He knew where he wanted it to go. Despite the fact that for three years, he had tried to get her out of his system, he couldn't. All the farm work, all the sweat, all the heat couldn't erase her from his mind or heart. And seeing her now just brought that fact back more sharply into focus. He had been crazy to leave her this long and thank the powers that be that she hadn't found someone else in his absence. If he couldn't do anything else right in his life, he was going to win her and keep her this time. Just as soon as he got her rested and feeling better. Woody sighed and looked at the clock. Two a.m. He wondered if Jordan was having trouble sleeping, too. Without thinking twice, he got up and padded across the living area of the suite to her bedroom and peeked in. She was on her side, facing the door, curled up and clutching a pillow – sound asleep. Woody chuckled softly to himself. "At least one of us is resting," he thought.