Chapter Six

You deserve so much better than me… her words rang in his ears the next few weeks. Where the hell did she get the idea that she wasn't good enough for him? He had no idea, but had tried to go out of his way to dispel that from her mind.

But it wasn't working.

Anytime he'd volunteer to help her, or go out of his way to reiterate his desire for a permanent relationship with her, she'd retreat back into her shell and shake her head. She was convinced that it wouldn't work.

She had called her doctor about prenatal care. Woody was there when the phone conversation took place. Against her protests, he accompanied her to the doctor. An initial exam and some intake information let them know that Jordan was indeed about nine weeks pregnant and healthy. So was the baby. Its heartbeat was strong and loud. Woody had sighed with relief. She had put in long hours dealing with the terrorist attack, not clocking out until 48 hours after the event. Garret had to run her out of the morgue. She had gone home and slept for two days, but to Woody, she still looked tired and worn out. Dr. Jenkins said it was probably due in some part to her efforts cleaning up after the mustard gas, but that it was more than likely just a typical reaction to her first trimester. Extreme fatigue is a common side effect of pregnancy.

She still had not told Garret she was pregnant. She would, she promised…she just needed to find the right words, she said, as Woody was driving her back from the doctor's appointment. She yawned and stretched out in the seat next to him.

"Have you thought about names yet?" he asked, trying to engage her in more than a monosyllabic conversation.

"Names? No. I'd like to know what I'm having before I deal with that."

"So you want to know what it is?"

She nodded and yawned again. "I am so tired," she said.

"We'll be back at you apartment soon, Jo." He pulled onto Pearle Street.

"No…I have to go back to the morgue."

Woody frowned. "I thought Macy gave you the day off."

"He did. But the exterminators are at my building spraying for bugs today. I don't need to be breathing the fumes of that stuff while I'm pregnant…" She yawned again. "So I was going back into my office to lie down for a little while."

Woody quickly turned the car around. "No. If you go back into work, I know what will happen. You'll end up helping with trace or autopsy or with some kind of problem." He continued to drive.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere you can get some rest," he replied and pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.

She protested all the way upstairs and even more when he pulled her into his apartment. "You can get some rest here," he said as he escorted her to his bedroom and pushed her down on the mattress. He then helped her take off her shoes and then went for her blouse. She was too tired to protest too much. Before long, he had her down to her cami and panties and covered her up with his blanket. To his great relief and delight, she turned over and snuggled deep into his pillow. Her eyes were already shut and she was out. He turned off the light and pulled the door partially closed. That way he could hear her if she needed him.

He sat down in his easy chair and thought. She was fine, Dr. Jenkins said. So was the baby. That was a relief. He had worried after the exposure to the mustard gas. Now he was concerned about her hours…the long working hours she put in at the morgue. He didn't know much about pregnant women, but had done some internet research. They needed rest. Better nutrition. No alcohol. Smoke-free environment. Jordan was carrying their child…he wanted the best for it. He wanted the best for her.

Hell, he just wanted her.

He rose from his chair and noiselessly pushed the bedroom door open. He had dreamed of this for more years than he cared to remember…the sight of her in his bed. She was slightly on her back, her long, chestnut hair spread out on his pillow, blanket pushed down to her waist. Dead to the world. He chuckled. She hadn't exaggerated one bit. She was exhausted. Just as quietly as he entered the room, he took off his suit and stripped down to only his boxers. Then ever-so-gently, he eased into the bed beside her, holding his breath that she wouldn't wake up. She didn't. When he pulled her into his arms, all she did was cuddle closer and keep on sleeping. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he soon was asleep, too.

He awoke some hours later, the sun sinking low in the Boston sky, bathing the room in warm golds and pinks. Jordan was still sound asleep, her head on Woody's shoulder. He eased out from under her so not to wake her. She must really be exhausted, he thought. She's been through a lot the last few days…discovering she's pregnant…the terrorist attack…all the hours she's put in. Poor girl. He tenderly pushed a curl off her face. After all she gives to people…closure to lives, help to victims' families, answers to the police…she thinks she's not good enough for me…that she's damaged goods…I need to change her mind…somehow…I'm afraid my past actions haven't been so smart….I think I contributed a lot to her mental state…pushed too hard, too fast, before she was ready for a relationship. And I didn't help matters that night in her office…when I got her pregnant.

She stirred beside him, jerking awake in a somewhat unfamiliar bed, not quite sure what happened. She partially sat up. "What…."

"Shhh. It's okay. You're with me…resting. Lie back down, Jo. I'll fix dinner. We can eat and then I'll drive you home."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"About six hours." Woody grinned at her.

"Oh man. I never sleep during the day."

"Things are different now, Jo. The doctor said that during the first trimester or so, you're going to be tired. You need to give into it. Just rest."

She shook her head. "I'm fine now…but dinner sounds kind of nice…"

"Deal. I'll cook…you can rest while I do."

"Could I get a shower? I feel really groggy…"

"Sure. There's towels and things in the bathroom. Make yourself at home."

Leaving Jordan to shower, Woody went back into the kitchen to see what was available for dinner. Not really a whole lot, really…he hadn't gotten groceries this week. He knew she liked Chinese, so he phoned a place that had delivery and had several items sent over. Then he returned to the bedroom, to tell her what he had done…the shower was still running…A thought flickered through his head and before he could change his mind, he opened the bathroom door, dropped his boxers, slid back the shower curtain. Jordan's back was to him and he pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her, one hand going protectively to the area just under her belly button and his lips finding the curve of her neck.

"Woody?"

"You were expecting someone else?" he chuckled in her ear.

"I wasn't expecting you…"

"I can leave…"

"Bet you can't."

"Bet you don't want me to…" he turned her in his arms and pulled her wet body to his…watching the warm water sluice over her hair and down her back. "I happen to wash backs very well," he continued, taking her bath cloth and soap from her. Working the lather into the cloth, he began to wash her back, starting between her shoulders and working down to the narrow taper of her waist, feeling her bunched muscles relax under his fingers. By the time he was finished, she was holding on to his shoulders for support. He glanced down at her….her brown eyes holding his blue ones captive…water running in rivulets down both of them…and slowly lowered his lips to hers, giving her time to back away if she wanted.

But she didn't want to…she met his kiss with eager lips, softening against him and opening her mouth, moving as close to him as the narrow confines of the shower would allow. He dropped the bath cloth and continued his exploration of her body with his hands…her shoulders, down the sides to her hips….over her bottom…the gentle swell of her breasts, until she pulled away and began her own study of him. His broad shoulders…tight chest and abs, his hard thighs…until he couldn't stand it anymore. He reached over turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel from off the sink, he held it open for her to step into, kissing her again as he wrapped it around her, and then carried her to bed.

This time, he let the minutes stretch….not rushing anything, making sure she was secure and ready before he took her hands on either side of her head and threaded his fingers together with hers. And made love to her…like he had wanted to for so long…from the minute he had first laid eyes on her during the homicide at the bank three years ago, until the time she had fled his apartment, to the time in her office…this was how he really had wanted it to be…leisurely and slow…taking care of each other's needs…until they both tightened around each other.

Jordan lost her breath at his lovemaking. Sex was not new to her. Making love was. And that's what Woody was doing. And this was the difference between the two…she felt it to her soul and it left her hungry for more…of it and of Woody.

This was what he was offering her. A lifetime of this. And she was very tempted to take him up on his offer.