Chapter Nine
One thing hasn't changed in two years. My feelings for you. They're the same….
His words kept resonating through her mind for the rest of the evening…as she and Woody ate dinner and cleaned up after themselves….it stayed in the back of her mind. Finally, feigning exhaustion, she mounted the steps to go to her bedroom, leaving Woody up to wait on his uncle to come in.
If his feelings were still the same, why did he wait two years to contact me? She wondered, as she showered and brushed her teeth. Maybe he is more complicated than you think…maybe he has had his own issues to deal with…maybe what happened in Boston with the Brady case was the catalyst to make him deal with his own demons before…before…before what? Before he returned to me? What if he wasn't going to? What if, despite his feelings for me, he wasn't going to come back to Boston because he didn't feel like he could still be in law enforcement and have a relationship with me at the same time?
She put on her tank top and a pair of girl boxers and brushed her long hair out. He said they would talk after the case was over…but she didn't know if she could wait that long. Seeing him…being with him…working with him again was causing her heart to go on overload despite whatever her brain was telling her. She may not trust him anymore, but he still made her knees go weak and all it took was his touch to cause her heart to race. Trust is one thing….attraction was another.
And safety is an entirely different issue. She knew she had to trust him on that measure…for of all the people in the world, she felt the safest with Woody. If anyone could protect her from the killer, it was him. She collapsed on the bed, trying to will herself to go to sleep…it wasn't working….that and the slight pounding on the inside of her head signaling an oncoming headache, was keeping her awake. There was aspirin in the medicine chest in the bathroom. She remembered seeing it there. She got up to get some, quietly opening the door, but not bothering to lock Woody's side of the bathroom. She was only getting aspirin…when his door swung open, and he entered, ready for bed…sweatpants and no shirt.
"Sorry," he said, trying to back out of the area.
"It's okay. I was only getting something for a headache."
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, fumbling through the medicine chest for the aspirin bottle.
"Yeah…my head just hurts a little. It's not everyday a serial killer wants to kill you," she deadpanned. Or that I find out you still care for me.
"Hmmm. You know you're safe here, Jordan. You don't have to worry." He found the bottle and uncapped it. Taking her hand, he shook two tablets into her palm. "There. Take those…you'll feel better in the morning." He closed her fingers around the aspirin and made the mistake of looking down into her eyes…In the confines of the tiny bathroom, they were close…too close…their legs were brushing against each other…and she was wearing so little….reminding him far to vividly of what used to happen between them…and that it had been two years since he had touched her…or any woman for that matter.
And her eyes were telling him the same thing about herself. Before he knew what he was doing, he was gently running his fingers from her hand, down her arm, and up to her shoulder, anchoring them in her hair and pulling her to him, softly brushing his lips against hers.
The response surprised them both. Hunger, tension…the need to be close again drove the kiss. Her hands went up to his bare chest, finding their way to his neck and gently massaging the back of it as he pulled her closer…and kissed her deeper, his arms wrapped around her back and waist. When he finally broke the kiss, they both were breathless, but he didn't let go. "Jordan," he finally whispered, "you need to take the aspirin and go to bed."
She shook her head. "I don't want to. Not alone."
"Not now…we need to talk first, but after everything with this case is over…and an arrest is made."
"That could take weeks."
"Maybe we could get all the talking out of the way during that time," he said, pulling back and looking in her eyes.
She nodded. "Is it that important to you? That we talk first?"
He sighed and gently brushed the hair back out of her eyes. "Yes, it is. You're hurt because you don't understand my actions. You don't trust me any longer, and I don't blame you…but I can tell you I had good reasons to go off like this and try to sort everything out…" He lifted her chin so she was looking in his eyes. "I want you to trust me, again Jordan. With everything. Not just this…your safety…but with your heart again. Can you try?"
She swallowed. She didn't trust anyone now…not easily. At least no one except Nigel and her dad. She was colder and more cynical than ever.
But she loved him.
So she needed to be able to trust him one more time.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "But please, Woody….don't hurt me again."
"Hey, sleepyhead, wake up," Woody said, gently shaking her. "It's time to rise and shine."
Jordan opened one eye and then promptly closed it in protest to the early morning light. "What time is it?" she asked, trying to roll back over and bury her head under the pillows.
"You still so not a morning person, are you?" asked Woody, trying unsuccessfully to extract her from beneath the bed clothes. "Hiding will not make the morning go away."
"Yeah, but it will prolong facing it."
"Maybe this will make it better."
A familiar aroma wafted towards her. She sat up and reached for the cup. "Coffee….Woodrow Hoyt, you're a saint."
He grinned. "And don't you ever forget it."
"So what's on the agenda today?" she asked, relishing the hot liquid sliding down her throat.
"Well, no chasing bad guys…Denning is doing that. Which, by the way, I called him this morning and they're closing in on the killer…it was the fifth suspect you had listed. But I thought you may want to go into town this morning…get a bathing suit…"
"Could we see the dolphins?" she asked. She sounded like a kid in her eagerness. Woody chuckled.
"Yeah. We'll do the dolphins."
She grinned back at him and threw back the covers. "Then what are we waiting on…time's a-wasting, Farm Boy.
Woody smiled as she made a bee-line for the bathroom. He hoped the rest of their time together could be this way…it would make telling her everything easier…and then maybe they could pick their relationship up where they left off last night…
