Chapter Sixteen

Spoil Me

She was well enough Tuesday that the doctor said she could go home. Woody came to pick her up – he had been at the hospital everyday. "Thanks," she said when Woody got her home, a little out of breath and tiring more quickly than she thought she would.

"No problem," he replied. "You need to get up to bed…don't worry about anything. I've got dinner and Will's soccer practice covered."

Jordan nodded and leaned against the wall just a minute to get her breath and her bearings. The next thing she knew, Woody was carrying upstairs. "Woody…no….your back," she protested.

"My back has been fine for years…you, however…" he said as he carried her into her bedroom and laid her on her bed, "need to rest." He pulled the afghan at the bottom of the bed up over her. "And don't get up until I tell you to." He gave her a comical leer, "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"

Jordan chuckled along with him, but felt a tell-tale blush come to her cheeks. Suddenly she felt thirty-one again and she and Woody were back to that dance they once did all too well. She obediently curled up under the afghan. He sat down beside her. "Will you be okay by yourself while I go down stairs and start dinner and the laundry?"

"Gee, Woody, you're going to make someone a wonderful wife one day," she teased back.

"Funny, Jordan. Ha, ha."

"And I bet you look cute as can be in a pink, frilly apron…"

"And if you didn't have pneumonia…."

Jordan's chuckling brought on a fit of coughing. Before she knew what was happening, Woody had her in his arms, holding her against him. "Hey…you going to be okay?" he asked softly, gently rocking her.

His closeness hit her body like a jolt of electricity when she least expected it. His physical proximity, coupled along with the smell of his cologne made for a potent mix that caused her heart to skip a beat. Instead of pushing away, she held on to him until her coughing stopped … and a few seconds afterwards. "Better?" he asked anxiously.

Jordan nodded against his chest, still holding on to him. "I am now."

"Need me to stay with you a while?"

"No, I think I'll be okay…" she answered reluctantly releasing him.

He tenderly laid her back down and tucked the afghan around her. "Your wife will be downstairs taking care of things," he said jokingly. "I'll be back in a little while to check on you." He smoothed her hair off her forehead.

When he came back, Jordan was sound asleep, still curled up in the afghan. Woody smiled to himself. He wasn't sure what happened or what he did to make her walls come back down, but he was set on storming the castle now…and taking no hostages.

He had only meant to stay a week with Jordan and Will…in their guest room. Just long enough for Jordan to get her bearings enough that she could handle being out of bed for a couple of hours at the time. But he failed to estimate the force of pneumonia. And he had seriously underestimated his desire to stay…and Will persuasion to keep him there.

And what surprised him perhaps the most was that Jordan never encouraged him to leave. Even though she slept most of the time, either upstairs in her bedroom or downstairs on the couch in the family room, she seemed happy that he was there…with her. Content in their closeness. For a woman who had protested her desire for marriage or anyone in her life, it appeared to Woody all too clearly that she was in no hurry for him to go back to his house.

He didn't want to break the spell. As long as Jordan would let him stay … he was there. He held her through her coughing fits…and got up with her at night when she was achy and not feeling well again. "Why are you doing this?" she asked him suddenly, one afternoon when he had brought her laundry to her bedroom.

"Well… the clothes needed washing…."

"No…that's not what I meant and you know it. Why are you doing this….staying here with me?"

"You're sick….and you need me.

"I have a feeling you're doing nothing but spoiling me."

"Maybe you need to be spoiled."

"Me?"

"Yes you. Jordan Marie Cavanaugh Turner. When's the last time you let someone take care of you for a change?"

Jordan was silent for a moment. "It's been a while."

"Maybe you should try it more often. It looks good on you."

Jordan gave him a look that told him she clearly thought he had lost his mind.

"I mean it," Woody said, coming over to her bed to sit beside her, taking her hands. "You've changed, Jordan. I saw it as soon as I came back to Boston. You were warmer...not as edgy. I didn't know what to contribute it to then, until I met Will. Motherhood made you better. But even with Will, you've been so darned independent that it was hard to get close to you. Being in a put in a position where you need someone…me, to be exact, makes you seem….softer….easier to get close to you. If that's spoiling you, then maybe you should let me spoil you more often."

Woody's frank admission threw Jordan. For a moment she was speechless, her eyes mirroring more emotions than Woody could put his finger on. Her lungs were having a hard time functioning. "Oh," was the only thing she could get out of her mouth.

"I should get back to the laundry," Woody said softly, wanting his words to have a while to sink into her consciousness. He tried to release her hands, only to find her holding on tightly to him.

"Stay….please?"

"Jordan…I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now…." Woody knew his weakness – her.

She lowered her eyes in confusion. Was he rejecting her again? Would she ever be good enough?

"If I stay, I'm not going to want to leave…"

She met his eyes then. "What if I said I don't want you to leave?"

"Jordan…" her name came out in a whisper then…the same kind of whisper she remembered back at his apartment so many years ago…the kind she heard in her dreams for so many years afterwards. She nodded.

The kiss that followed spanned more than the sixteen years they had been apart…it rejoined what should have never been separated. He did more than reclaim her lips…he reclaimed her. "It's been too long," he murmured in her ear as he streaked a line of kisses down her neck to the curve of her shoulder.

"Mmmmmm." She tilted her head to give him better access. She was having a hard time breathing and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with her pneumonia. When his hands reached for the buttons on her shirt, one coherent thought ran through her mind. "Will?" she asked.

"Spending the night at Matt's."

"Ah." He had her shirt off by then. She returned the favor, peeling his t-shirt off his chest and trailing a line of kisses along his collarbone. He struggled with the hooks of her bra for a moment, finally getting the lacy scrap off and pulling her down on top of him on the bed. One hand anchored itself in her long hair as he kissed her and the other liberally explored her waist and hips, sending streaks of anticipation through her. She moaned softly against his mouth.

That was enough for Woody. He rolled her under him, anchoring her there with his hips. His eyes held the age-old question. Jordan smiled and whispered against his lips, "Spoil me some more….please?"

Woody chuckled as he tugged her pants down. "Whatever you want." He ran one hand from her knee to her thigh to lightly cup her bottom and hold her closer to him.

"Whatever I want?"

"Within reason….I mean you've been sick."

"And suddenly I feel much better…."

"Mmmm…I've always thought you've felt pretty good…."

"Woody!" Jordan smiled up at him, noting the light in his eyes and his dimples. If she could have anything she wanted, she'd start with this...

Will wasn't sure exactly how or when it happened, but the atmosphere around his parents changed. He really didn't notice it at first, chalking it up to his mother's recent illness and his father's natural concern for her. They had always been civil and polite around each other, but somewhere, sometime their relationship changed.

He first became cognizant of it one evening when he came in from a date and found them both lying on the couch, Jordan's back to his father's chest, supposedly watching a movie. Every few minutes Woody' hand would reach up to gently stroke his mother's hair and kiss her head. She finally looked back at him and Woody softly planted a kiss on her waiting lips.

Will groaned. "Get a room," he said, making his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Not a bad idea," Woody called back to his son.

"Dad! Gee…."

On a Saturdayevening a few months later, things shifted again. Will bolted downstairs to spend his usual weekend night with his friends only to find his father adjusting his tie in the hall mirror. "What gives?" Will asked Woody. "Why are you so dressed up?"

"Taking your mother out to dinner," Woody replied, finally satisfied with the way his tie looked and now gave his hair another go.

"Must be a fancy place…" Will propped against the wall, watching his father.

"It is…"

"Special occasion?"

"You might say that…"

Will was silent for a moment. "Is this the point where I'm supposed to ask you embarrassing questions like 'What are your intentions with my mother'?"

Woody grinned at his son. "You can…I won't promise to answer….but let's just say they are honorable."

A noise behind them caused both of the men to turn around. Jordan came down the stairs, dressed in red…Woody's favorite color on her. Will didn't think he had ever seen his mother looking lovelier….or in such a….revealing dress. Skeptically he raised an eyebrow at Woody. "Honorable?" he questioned him. "And don't you have a sweater or something to wear with that?" he asked Jordan, turning his attention to his mother.

"I hope to God not," Woody replied, taking Jordan by the arm. "Be back home by midnight, Will….and don't wait up."

But Will did…wait up. When his mother and father came through the door slightly after two, he played it up for all it was worth, threatening to ground Jordan if she was ever that late again.

Laughing at her son, she reminded him of the weekends she had stayed up and waited on him…"And I have a darn good reason for being so late," she said, holding out her left hand where a diamond solitaire winked on her finger.

"I told you my intentions were honorable," Woody teased.

Will wrinkled his brow and frowned. "Well….now I don't know how I'll do it….You've really messed me up, you know that, don't you?"

"Beg your pardon?" Jordan asked. "What…"

"How am I supposed to give the bride away and be the best man?" Will asked, hugging both of his parents. "Congratulations."

"I guess we could go to Vegas or something," Jordan began.

"No. Not a chance. A church wedding…flowers….a reception…everything," Will said, yawning, making his way upstairs to bed. "The whole nine-yards."

"And our son has spoken," Wood replied softly. "Seems you have two men in your life who want to spoil you, Jordan Marie."

"Hmmm…but right now, I just want you to."

"No problem," Woody said loosening his tie and following her upstairs, infinitely glad to do what she asked…and infinitely glad that after all these years they were finally right where they needed to be…together…no longer alone…dreaming and planning together.