Chapter Three

Nigel watched Woody with amusement. As men go, Nigel had always pegged Woody as a patient man. God knows he had waited on Jordan long enough. But he guessed, when critical things are at stake....like her life, her health, patience is not necessarily a solid Wisconsin small town virtue.

Kewuanne. Woody came from a town called Kewuanne. He bet you could fit that small town into Boston more than a dozen times. And Woody had been a small town boy. Key words there – had been. You'd never know he was once a young, green detective. Nope. Not a chance. He had quickly acclimated to Boston, to its police department, to the morgue, to its staff.....and of course, to Jordan.

Jordan. The anti-Woody. Jordan had grown up in Boston. Then bounced from large city to large city until she finally ended up in LA. And then returned to Boston. She was a city girl – full of brass and brash and sophistication. You'd think she eat up a naïve man like Woody – chew him up and spit him out.

But she didn't. Nigel had soon discovered the detective could more than hold his own against the lady. And Jordan quickly learned she couldn't run over Woody – at least not without dire consequences. More than once he had found them nose to nose arguing over a case...a scrap of evidence...a fingerprint...a technique....

Or whether Jordan had illegally entered a crime scene without a warrant. Or whether Woody was being narrow-minded and not considering all the evidence.

Nigel always knew Jordan had a "thing" for cops. She admitted it. Never denied it. And while she dated them before when she lived in Boston, once she had returned from LA, she seemingly had sworn them off. In fact, it seemed she had sworn off men in general, rarely dating. Rarely doing anything more after work than hanging out with the morgue staff.

Until Woody entered the picture. The big six-foot plus man took up residence on the end barstool of the Pogue and kept the lady entertained while she tended bar. He had captured her attention and in the end, captured her heart.

And Jordan had fought it. Nigel had seen her struggle with it. He had teased her about it nearly mercilessly. And it wasn't until he knew Jordan's heart was fully engaged that he eased up, because he watched her deal with knowledge that she was falling in love. "I can't do this, Nige," she confided, "I might get hurt. I might hurt him. It's just too hard."

Nigel had hugged her and told her to just go with her feelings. He couldn't imagine anything happening to her or Woody, because the detective had confided to him he had the same feelings for Jordan. The two were in love and side stepping the issue all over the place. Nigel had been ready to lock both of them up in the supply closet until they had talked it out. As a matter of fact, he had Bug had worked out a plan to do so...with Lily a co-conspirator.

Then he wasn't sure what happened. But one Monday morning, she had come into work, relaxed and smiling. He had commented on her attitude when she came into his office. "If I didn't know better," he had said, "I would swear you have the smile of a woman who had been shagged...and shagged well," he teased. Then noting the blush that crept up in her cheeks, he had said, "No...."

She had grinned and turned pinker, if possible.

"Woody?"

She wouldn't say. But that afternoon, a huge bouquet of flowers was delivered to her office. Jordan had never gotten flowers. Nigel, as well as most of the morgue, quickly put two and two together, and came up with ....the answer. The detective had showed up after work to take her out, guiding her out of the building, not by holding her arm like usual, but by possessively putting his hand on the small of her back. And Jordan let him. Much to everyone's amazement, Jordan let him. She even leaned closer to him. Damn.

And it had only gotten worse. If Woody had been protective of her before, he got even more so. Sweet Mother in the Manger, Nigel had thought, they are acting like a couple.

But Jordan was happy. Happier than he had ever seen her. And if Woody was the reason, then more power to him. Nigel would toast to his health any day.

He hoped he could toast to Jordan's soon. "How long has it been?" he asked Garret.

"Three hours."

Woody re-checked his watch. "What do you think the hold up is?" he asked Garret, "What could possibly be taking so long?"

"Any number of things...it may have gotten more complicated than they thought...they may have found something else..."

"I really didn't need to hear that," he replied.

Garret had never seen Woody so antsy in his life. The detective had been known to show an edge...even be impatient, but Garret had never seen him this nervous. Well, maybe once before. Before Woody and Jordan had even started dating.

It was last summer, and Garret had rented a beach house. He and Rene' had gone down for the week and invited everyone to come up for the weekend, including Woody. At this point in time, Garret knew they both had feelings for each other, but had not said anything. And in her own way, Jordan was pushing the issue. Of course, she'd never admit that, and never said it.

But her actions had shown it. She had chosen a black bikini to wear. One that accentuated parts of her that were normally never seen in the cold climate of Boston where covering the body meant survival. The boys had changed and gone down to the ocean. Jordan and Lily had lingered in the house. When Jordan finally walked down the steps to sunbathe, the gasp that Woody let out was nearly audible. It not only was a skimpy bathing suit...it was strapless. Garret had watched in helpless mirth at the reaction of all of the men...Bug, Nigel, and Woody. It got worse when she lay down on her stomach to tan and unhooked the back of her bathing suit top.

He honestly didn't know if Woody was going to howl first or fight off Bug and Nigel for her attention. In the end, Woody ended up on the towel beside her, rubbing oil into her back. And rehooking her bathing suit top when it was time for her to turn over.

From that moment, Garret had seen Woody's attitude change. Before, Woody had nearly taken Jordan somewhat for granted. That she would always be there...viewing her in that bathing suit had showed him that Jordan was not only beautiful, she was desirable. And that he was not the only man that would think so.

Jordan's plan had worked. Woody began to send out signals that she was his, whether she would admit it or not. The jealous glances he gave to other detectives that worked with her, or new morgue workers that would come in, were nothing short of territorial. He did everything but beat on his chest and proclaim her his.

Garret hid a smile as he watched the detective paced the floor. If Woody was this nervous now, how would he be if they ever had kids?