Chapter 14

That explained a lot. Her haunted, scared look when he told her at the hospital that the bullet had taken out one of her ovaries, but everything else was working normally. Her body hadn't been normal in a long time. It also verified her rumored celibate life. He had heard through the Boston PD grapevine that since he had walked out of homicide and effectively her life, she hadn't dated any. Some of the guys had even patted him on the back – he had successfully "clipped her wings." Since he left, she hadn't found anyone to take his place and didn't seem to want to. The rumor mill had it going that Jordan had been pining for him.

He knew it wasn't true. He didn't know why she hadn't dated…but he thought that his leaving wasn't the reason. However, his actions did nothing to put the rumor to rest. He hadn't said a word in her defense. Instead, he had dated and slept with as many women possible. Other men may think it was to prove a point – his life could and would go on without her.

Woody knew differently. He was trying to get her off his mind and out of his heart.

And it hadn't worked.

He went into the den, poured himself a drink, and went walking on the beach, trying to figure everything out.

So while he was dating and enjoying the company of many eligible women, she had been in the hospital…battling cancer. Dealing with her mortality. No wonder she had matured into such a warm woman. Facing death would make you see what was important in living. No wonder she had put the demons of her past behind. She finally figured it wasn't worth the pain and trouble.

He wished she would have called him…he wished he would have kept in touch. Then maybe she wouldn't have had to face that battle alone. Evidently it must have happened while Max was away…Woody had heard he had only recently come back. Did he come back because of Jordan's illness? So many questions….and no answers. And Jordan didn't want to talk about it. For her, it was part of her past.

Part of her past that was affecting her future. Due to the fact it was now doubtful she could carry a child to term, she had determined that no man would want her…or maybe she wasn't worthy of any relationship. He could only imagine what mental hell she had been going through – by herself. He swallowed the rest of his drink. Her ability to have or not have children had no bearing on his feelings for her. He wanted her…he loved her. He had never stopped. And now he was cursing himself for not staying in touch with her.

Be thankful for little things, he heard a voice in his head tell him. You still have time. Cynthia Hough hasn't been apprehended yet. The police haven't called and said it was safe for Jordan to go home. She's turned Eddie down. Go back to the house and talk to the woman….all she can do is say no. He turned around and walked quickly back to the beach house.

He found her in the hammock, curled up in the light throw, asleep. She had showered, changed, and came out to rest. She had let her hair dry naturally, because it was curling over her shoulders, but face still showed faint traces of her tears. Woody sat his glass down on the table and walked over the hammock. It was a large hammock…he had comfort in mind when he bought it. She looked so tiny in it…Holding his breath, he gently slid in beside her, careful not to wake her or swing the hammock too much. Cuddling her against him, he held her as he drifted off to sleep as well.

Hours later, Jordan began to break her way out of the haze of sleep. She was emotionally drained…telling Woody about what had happened to her was not in her plans….and seeing his reaction was equally as damning – the look of pity…then remorse. She had seen it too often. But something wasn't quite the same this time as she was waking up. She was being held by a pair of strong arms that had wrapped themselves around her. Hesitantly she turned her head, only to find herself staring into a pair of blue eyes….It was Woody…he was holding her. Not knowing exactly what to say, and feeling awkward, she didn't say anything. She really didn't have the opportunity. Woody did the talking.

"Hi," he said softly, reaching up and pushing the curls out of her eyes. "We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About you. Me. What you told me in the bathroom."

"I told you I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine now. Healthy as a horse."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then I have no idea what you're talking about." She tried to roll out of the hammock, but Woody pulled her back. Instead of getting out of the hammock on the opposite side of Woody, she found herself rolling into him, her body becoming flush against his.

Which was exactly what Woody wanted. He had her attention…in the best way possible.

"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch when I left homicide. You shouldn't have had to go through this alone. I wish you hadn't had to go through it at all – but knowing you were alone makes it worse."

"It's okay…I'm okay." She tried to push herself away a little, but couldn't. He was holding her too tightly and had shifted his weight so that she was slightly under him.

"No. It's not. I acted like a bastard before I left and I never called to make sure you were okay…"

"Woody, it's fine….just please, let me up."

"I will…but not before I'm finished talking to you. If you don't want to talk about what you told me, you don't have to. But there are some things I need to say to you. And keeping you here, like this, assures me I can without you running off. So bear with me a moment and then I'll let you go." He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. She nodded and he felt her relax against him.

"I've missed you, Jo. I know you're aware about me….and the fact that I've seen other women since I've left homicide. I know you knew about Devan. The fact was, you pushed me away so many times, that I was hoping that when you saw Devan and I together, you'd get jealous enough to do something about it. But you didn't. Then she was killed in the crash and I felt so guilty about using her….that I didn't feel right when you tried to comfort me. I was confused and felt time away would be good for me. So I transferred out of homicide, to try to get as far away as I could… just to think and try to get over you and my guilt.

"The guilt I got over….but not you. I tried everyway possible, but I couldn't get you out of my system. A new position, a new apartment, new women…but everywhere I looked I still saw you. So I decided that no other woman would make me as vulnerable as you did. I became hard. And hurtful. And I didn't give a damn what pain I caused.

"It worked, you know. Until I saw you at the Hilton….until I saw you with Eddie and realized I could lose you to him…Then you were shot. Do you have any idea how that scared me? Losing you to another man was one thing….the possibility of losing you forever was quite another.

"I don't care that you may not be able to have children…I care about you. I don't want to leave here tomorrow or whenever they apprehend Cynthia Hough and not have you back in my life. These last couple of years without you have been hell. Please, Jo…don't push me away again."

Jordan's heart thudded in her chest. How many nights had she dreamed of this? She wasn't sure it could be more than a dream…but when she looked in his eyes, she thought she saw a glimpse of reality. What might have been. "Woody…" she began. She got no further. She could no longer think coherently because his lips and tongue were painting a trail from her ear to her collarbone…and then back up to her lips. Oh, Jesus, was her last tangible thought before he coaxed her mouth open and invaded it, at the same time pushing her back a little deeper in the hammock.

Her arms went around his neck on their own….she didn't have a thought running through her head, except he smelled so good…and felt even better. When he pushed aside the straps of her tank top to softly kiss the scar on her shoulder again, she didn't think her breathing would ever return to normal. It got no better when she felt his hands dive under her top and gently caress the scar on her side and then slide upwards until she felt his warm palm on her breast through the thin material of her bra. She arched against him as his caresses got more intimate, softly moaning against his lips. When he picked her up out of the hammock and carried her inside to his bedroom, she didn't protest. Not a word. It wasn't until the cool sheets hit her back that her mind began to refocus. Woody wanted to make love to her…and she wanted him to. So when he slid her tank top off, she responded by pushing his t-shirt up over his head and let it join hers on the floor. Woody worked the catch loose on her bra and soon it joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

When he knew he had kissed her nearly senseless, he trailed his lips down to where his hands had been gently caressing her, stopping when he heard her moan or catch her breath…knowing he had hit a particularly sensitive spot….he committed these to memory, wanting to know where to love her the best. He paused when his hands reached the waistband of her pants. Softly dropping a kiss on navel, he looked in her eyes…and she simply nodded. He quickly slid them off and then kissed his way back up to her lips once again, even while her hands were working on his pants. He pushed them down as soon as she had unfastened them, slowly unzipping them, causing him to squirm just a little under her light touch.

Woody held her close, still kissing her, while his hands went down to her petal cut briefs, now sliding them off of her. "Jordan," he whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver just a little under his touch. "Now, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Yes…please."

The years melted away during this time together. It seemed they both were intent on making up for all the months they had spent apart…They both were breathless before it was all over. Woody couldn't remember ever feeling this way with any woman. With the others, he could roll out of bed and get on with his life in a matter of minutes. With her, all he wanted to do was stay put and make the moment last as long as he could possibly drag it out. He glanced over at Jordan. She was asleep, her head tucked on his chest, her arm and leg thrown possessively over him. He grinned. That was more like the Jordan he remembered. Pulling her even closer, he had settled down to sleep himself when the ringing of his cell phone broke the silence.

"Hoyt," he said softly into the mouthpiece, trying unsuccessfully not to wake Jordan. She had heard the phone and had raised her head from his chest.

"It's Eddie. We have Hough in custody. Tell Jordan it's time to come home."