Chapter Six.
Tacky Hotel Rooms
Dedicated to my Coffeeroom Ya yas.
It wasn't the fact that she had to go out of town that bothered her.
It was the fact that it was with Woody.
Compounded by the fact that they were alone.
And anytime they went out of town all by themselves, mayhem and chaos quickly followed in the wakes of their relationship. The moment the plane left Boston, any walls of reason she had so carefully built collapsed at her feet. It had happened every time they went to LA. It had happened in the desert.
Nervously she thought it could happen again. And with her heart still belonging to him, this time it would be disastrous. The emotional walls she built around her heart to protect it would come crashing down. He could waltz right in, set her up, and hurt her badly if she allowed it.
Well, the practical side of her said, just don't let it happen.
The emotional side of her…the side of her that was so divided on her feelings promptly countered that this might be the only time….perhaps the last time….she would ever have an opportunity to have him alone and all to herself…this might be her only chance to know what it was like to make love with him…if the opportunity arose. Was she woman enough to risk her heart…to be willing to pick the pieces up later and put them back together…or was she going to continue to play it cautious?
As their plane left Boston soil that chilly morning, she had no idea which one she would chose.
And she still hadn't made up her mind when the plane touched down on the red North Carolina clay.
But if she knew what was about to happen in the Outer Banks, she may have forced the pilot to turn the plan around and return home.
Mike Evans, the local sheriff, met them at the small airport and brought them to his station to look over the evidence and let Jordan examine the bodies. A North Carolina native, Mike could have easily been misconstrued as one of the "good ol' boys" from the deep South. A giant of a man, with the beginnings of a beer belly, his form belied the tensile strength that was bred from a lifetime of pushing himself hard to get ahead. A football scholarship to North Carolina State bought him the education he so desired.
A blown knee pushed him into law enforcement after he could no longer push himself on the grid iron. After working in Montgomery and Wake counties, he chose to land back on the coast where he had grown up as a boy. He found a pretty, local girl and settled down to raise a family. His life had been mostly quiet. He rarely even had an opportunity to draw his gun…just a word or two from him to even the most rowdy tourist settled down any trouble.
Until the Bakers were found dead in their burnt rental house. A Boston address on their drivers' license meant that Mike had to involve another state in his case. He didn't mind that. What he wondered about was the two people in the back seat of his SUV. They were polite….but too quiet. Barely talking to one another. He had hoped it was a case of jet lag…
But he was an astute man…if he was placing a wager, he'd bet the two had a lover's quarrel. Sighing deeply, he fervently hoped that it would blow over quickly. He wanted to get this over and get them back home. And he dreaded what he would have to tell them later. He pulled into his parking place at the sheriff's office and led Jordan and Woody to the room with the evidence. "Take your time…look it over and tell me what you think. Then I'll take you to the morgue…it's at the local hospital here….and you can look over the bodies, Dr. Cavanaugh." He shut the door to the evidence room and Jordan and Woody began to go over the case piece by piece, comparing it to the house in Boston on Lee Street.
Jordan's face remained calm, her emotions well-hidden behind a mask of carefully crafted stoicism. She still had nightmares about the house blowing up…with Woody in there…and this time she wasn't able to get him out. There were many nights she'd wake up in a cold sweat, shaking with fear…and telling herself it was only a dream did nothing to calm her nerves.
But she didn't want Woody to ever know she was the one who rescued him. Woody and Cal needed to reconcile. She'd give anything if her father would come back home and be with her…she realized first hand the pain that both brothers bore…even if they stubbornly refused to recognize it themselves.
Woody, on the other hand, let his emotions play over his face as the knowledge hit him once again, that if it wasn't for Jordan, he could have been killed. Been trapped in that burning house until nothing was left of him or Cal but a mass of seared bones and flesh. She had risked her life for him…because she loved him.
However, the words he had spoken to her in his hospital room after the shooting…I don't want your pity…Get out. Now….they still were ringing in her mind….and he knew it. Thoughtfully, he glanced at her from under his lashes. They were out of town…her defenses would go down again…maybe this time…just maybe….he could not only hold her closer…he could erase those carelessly flung words and replace them with the three, new, little words, I love you.
"You folks ready to go?" Mike asked several hours later, after Jordan had a chance to review the preliminary autopsy reports and make a cursory exam of the bodies.
"Sure," Woody answered, helping Jordan repack the evidence and reports. "We'll be back in tomorrow to finish up, okay?"
"Fine. If you're through, I'll take you to your hotel…"
Woody nodded and helped Jordan to her feet. They were still mostly silent on the drive to the hotel… which was fine with Mike…he needed to do some talking. "I hope you folks like the coast down here in North Carolina. Never been to Boston myself…anything much north of Maryland is a little too cold for my blood…"
"It does get cold there," Jordan said, while looking out the window, noting the lowland marshes and scrubby trees the North Carolina beaches were famous for.
"Yeah…that's what I understand. But with Boston being a port city and all, I guess you see a lot of the beach…"
"Not as much as I would like," Woody responded. "Work…"
Mike grinned at him in the rear view mirror. "Know what you mean…know what you mean…but anyway…tourism is a huge source of our income here this time of year. You know it's the height of tourist season now."
Woody nodded, not quite following where the sheriff was going as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.
"The rental houses are all taken. Some folks book them for the entire summer…" Mike continued, getting out of the SUV to help Woody with the luggage.
"Oh," Jordan said. "Must be nice to be able to vacation the entire summer…"
"Yeah, must be," Mike said, leading them up the stairs to their room. Nervously, he handed Woody the room key. "I want you to know I tried to get you a house…or a better hotel…but unless I went over two counties, everything was booked. Now there's only one bed in there, but there is a couch…and I do apologize…"
Woody and Jordan wordlessly looked at each other. It's not like they hadn't been in close quarters together before…and each knew that if the poker game had played out differently, they probably would already be sleeping together and the one bed would just have been a moot point.
But both had folded their cards in that game. It was over and the chips on both sides had been lost. "Well….it's only for one night," Jordan said gamely, not wanting Mike to feel any worse than he obviously already did. And even if the hotel was on the seedy side, surely the sleeper sofa was adequate.
"Good…glad you feel that way. Thanks…. I'll see you tomorrow…Pick you two up about nine?"
"Yeah…that's good," Woody said, loosening his tie…the realization that he and Jordan would be in one hotel room for a night or two just now seeping through his mind and parts of his body that immediately began to give him problems. "Have a good evening, Mike…" Turning to Jordan, he said…"Well…it can't get any worse…." He inserted the key and the door swung open.
The situation immediately grew worse. True to Mike's word…there was one bed in the room.
It was huge.
And heart shaped.
Complete with Magic Fingers Massage option. Insert fifty cents in the slot beside the headboard and the bed would vibrate for twenty minutes.
"I have stepped into the middle of a porn movie," Jordan said, dropping her overnight bag on the tiny couch in the corner.
"Uh…yeah…." Woody stammered back, running his hand down the back of his head. "Jordan…what are we going to do?"
"Do? About this?" She chuckled. "What can we do? Everything's booked. We don't have a car…the couch is barely bigger than a chair. What do you think we're going to have to do?"
"Sl…sleep together?" Woody's voice cracked like a teenager's on the dawn of puberty.
"Yeah, Farm Boy. That's the way it looks. But hey, we're adults, right?"
"Right…"
"You take the left side and I'll take the right side of this…this…heart….thingie. Simple as that. You're just lucky I brought pajamas…."
Woody swallowed hard and grabbed a bucket off the table. "I'm going to go get some ice…"
"Good. Then we'll see what's available for dinner in this five-star establishment."
Jordan laughed under her breath at his sudden exit and the obvious reason for it. Despite the fact that Woody had told her to get out of his life, she still had at least a sexual effect on him…his look of discomfort told her this could be an interesting evening…
If she let it.
Did she want to? She quickly sobered up when she realized that the next morning he could utter the same words to her that he did in the hospital. That after she gave herself to him, he could tell her to leave.
The thought hurt more than she could bear. Grabbing a change of clothes and her body wash, she decided a shower was needed to clear her head and help her think better.
She was in the shower when he let himself back into the room. He had found a burger joint a half a block a way. They could easily walk to it. He sank down on his side of the bed as he waited for her to finish in the bathroom.
He would be sharing a bed with Jordan Cavanaugh tonight and perhaps tomorrow night also. He may never have this opportunity again…the chance to tell her how wrong he had been and how he felt. Swallowing his pride and screwing up his courage, Woody decided that tonight was the night. It had to be. This chance may never come again.
Only everything about that night went horribly wrong. The minute they set foot in the burger joint, both of their cell phones started ringing. Woody silently cursed technology and blamed the rising number of failed relationships on it. Would they ever catch a break? Could they? Maybe the gods of some sort of twisted fate had conspired against them from the beginning and they would never be together.
Resolutely, he determined to do something about it. When then arrived back at room 204…the room affectionately dubbed by Jordan as the "Porn Fest," he deliberately reached over and took her cell phone off her hip, powered it off, and slung it on the couch.
"What are you doing?" she asked, startled by his action and the fact that he was now doing the same thing to his own phone. "Someone may need to get in touch with us."
"And they can wait. I need to talk to you. I've been trying for days to find the right time, the right place, the right words….and now is as good as time any…."
Nervously Jordan licked her dry lips and sat down on her side of the bed. "What is it? Have I done something wrong?"
"No….no…" Woody replied and sat down heavily on his side. "I have…"
Jordan looked at him, remaining silent, letting him know he could continue but only when he was ready and at a pace he was comfortable with.
"I…I was wrong, Jo."
"Wrong? About what?"
"You. Me. Us."
She looked confused. "I don't understand."
"I should have never said to you what I did in that hospital room after I was shot…"
"It's my fault, Woody. My timing always sucked."
"But I didn't have to react the way I did…"
"You were scared…you didn't know if you would live and if you did, if you would walk again…"
"That's no excuse. I'm sorry, Jordan."
"Apology accepted. Don't let it worry you.." She got up off the bed to go put on her pajamas.
"Does that mean…you meant what you said to me?"
Jordan froze in her tracks. "What I said?"
"Yeah. About me not leaving you…and that you love me."
Slowly Jordan walked around to his side of the bed and sank down beside him. "Ah…that." Woody's jaw tensed…Jordan noticed the muscle twitch in his cheek. "Yeah. I do."
The relief in Wood's face made the change in the atmosphere of the room nearly palpable. He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away.
"I do love you, Woody. I always will. But I can't live my life thinking that at some point you will push me out of your life again. That hurt – more than you'll ever know. Despite what you may think, I take relationships very seriously now…I may not have when I was younger, but who does when they're in their twenties? When I give my heart and my body to a man again, it will be for keeps…for forever. That's one reason I waited so long to tell you my feelings…I wanted to make sure I could totally commit to our relationship with no second thoughts. Your accident…the shooting…just made me realize quickly that I do love you and if you would have died, they would have buried my heart along with you. When you told me to get out…it broke my heart…it hurt. And while my feelings for you haven't changed, there's no way I ever want to hurt like that again."
A cold fear ran down Woody's spine. She loved him…but was afraid he'd hurt her again…he could try and blame his reaction in the hospital on the meds, but she wouldn't buy it. He knew that. Setting his jaw again, he said, "So…you're saying you still love me, but it's over?" He looked away from her…to stare at the nondescript curtains blowing with the current of the air conditioner unit under the window.
"No." She reached out and gently turned his face to hers again. "I'm saying I don't know…that I have to be sure you'd never hurt me again like that before I'd commit to a relationship with you once more. You hurt me, Woody…and despite the fact that for years I danced around you…trying to be sure of my feelings….I never hurt you like that. I never dated any of your friends…or people you knew. I never dated anyone. I wanted only you…but I also wanted to make sure that I could totally be yours… and only yours…with no second thoughts…no regrets. That when I gave myself to you…when we made love…it would be for keeps…for a lifetime." She gently traced his cheek with her thumb.
He was silent for a moment…so silent he frightened her. Slowly she got up from the bed and retrieved her pajamas, making her way to the bathroom to change. When she returned, he was still sitting on his side of the bed staring at the window. She quietly climbed under the sheets and turned her back to him, curling up in a small ball, in the furthest corner of the damned heart shaped bed she could find.
Woody gazed at her form for a moment, his eyes taking in the feminine curves under the covers, her dark hair spread across the white of the sheets. Idly, he wondered for a moment just where in the hell the hotel found heart shaped sheets for the heart shaped bed…when another realization hit him hard and long.
He loved her. With everything he had, he loved her. And she loved him. To find a way to convince her he would never be so stupid as to tell her to get out of his life again….that he wanted her and only her for the rest of his life…shouldn't be too hard, should it?
He didn't know. But knowing she was lying beside him clad only in her tank top and girl boxers as making the room seem suddenly very, very small and very, very warm. He stood quickly and walked to the door. "I'm going out for a walk," he said, closing the door behind him with a resounding click.
