Chapter Six

You May Kiss the Bride

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…"

Jordan couldn't believe this was really happening…not to her….and certainly not with Woody. But yet, here she was…standing in front of the pulpit in the tiny church, taking Woody as her "lawfully wedded husband." She swallowed hard. In all the scenarios she could have possibly dreamed up about her wedding, this was the farthest thing from her mind.

And God knows, while at one time, Woody would have been her first choice as husband, she wouldn't let herself imagine being his wife.

But I really won't be…it's in name only… she corrected herself. This is just for a couple of weeks …We're doing this simply to solve this case…people's lives are worth this sacrifice, right? We'll probably have the divorce in hand before the marriage certificate is even filed. .At least that was the plan. When Jordan got back to Boston, she'd talk to her lawyer-friend Kim and get the divorce filed on the down low. No one would ever know…no one would ever need to.

After a few more words outside on the church lawn, they had gone back inside the vestibule and told Judge Thomas a bald-faced lie – that they had been dating for a while and were planning to get married anyway…so could he just go ahead and perform the ceremony? They could always have another ceremony in Boston for family and friends…but they had decided that this was kind of romantic and appealed to both of them.

The judge had been delighted. "Since I am the judge as well as the minister, I can cut through the paperwork and file the marriage license for you myself with a note of explanation tomorrow at the courthouse. Let me call Ruth and have her come up to be the other witness…."

And within a half an hour, everything was done. Ruth had appeared shortly after the judge called her – a tiny, sweet, gray-haired woman that had somehow not only obtained a set of rings in record time, but also had Jordan some roses to hold as a bouquet. "They came out of my garden," she explained. "And every woman needs roses on her wedding day…"

Wedding day…oh shit, thought Jordan. This is really happening….

She heard Woody repeat his vows after Judge Thomas…and somewhere she heard herself repeat hers to Woody. At least the Judge left out the part about obey…

"You may now kiss the bride," Judge Thomas solemnly concluded, looking expectantly at Jordan and Woody.

Shit, thought Jordan. This adds insult to injury…She turned to Woody, fully expecting him to chastely just brush her lips with his…She didn't anticipate that his mouth would take firm possession of hers…pulling her to him and molding her lips to his. Jordan wasn't prepared for the emotions that zinged through her body, or the chills that ran up her spine.

Not to mention the way her toes curled up in her Doc Martins. The man could kiss, even when he was in pain. All too soon for her, Woody slowly broke the embrace.

"I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Woodrow Wilson Hoyt…"

Oh hell…I'm Mrs. Hoyt…. Mrs. Hoyt…. I'm Mrs. Hoyt….

The drive to the cabin was a silent one…Jordan still held on to her roses, hoping to find something to put them in once she got to the cabin. Ruth had hugged her on the way out of the church. "I hope you and Woodrow are as happy as Lowell and I have been for the past sixty-three years," she whispered to Jordan.

"Sixty-three years?"

Ruth nodded.

"Wow….maybe you can tell me how you made it last that long sometime while I'm in Coldstream…"

Ruth beamed. "We'll do lunch…I'll stop by the sheriff's department tomorrow…" She patted Jordan's back before the ME climbed in the car beside Woody.

"Here we are," Woody finally said after the silent ride, pulling into a long driveway with the cabin at the end.

Cabin indeed. It was a beautiful A-frame structure…although Judge Thomas had called it "nice," it was more than that, even if it was on the small side.

Woody pushed open the door and he and Jordan tugged their luggage inside. "Wow…" Woody said, whistling… "not bad…better than a hotel."

"Yeah, much better…" Full gourmet kitchen…natural wood-sided walls…a fireplace in the den…full bath downstairs and a porch that circled the entire building. Glass windows ran from nearly ceiling to floor and overlooked some of the most breathtaking landscapes Jordan had ever seen.

"The judge said the bedroom was upstairs," Woody continued. "I'll take your things up…"

"No," Jordan replied just as sharply as Woody had done with her on the church lawn. She had watched him carefully through the ceremony and after. And while he had said nothing else about the pain he was in, Jordan noticed that he now walked with a slight limp. "You take the bedroom upstairs. You need to lie in a bed, not on a couch – somewhere you can stretch out and get some relief. I'll take the couch downstairs."

"No…Jordan…" Woody began to protest.

"Nope. No excuses and no damn chivalry. I'm shorter, I can fit on the couch…when you're better, we'll switch off."

The white knight that was still left in Woody wanted to object to these arrangements, but his pain was growing worse each minute. He desperately needed that hot shower and his muscle relaxers. Reluctantly, he agreed. "Okay…but just until I'm better…"

"Agreed. Now go…" she said pointing upstairs. "Meanwhile, Ruth is sending up some boxes of groceries. I'll see what I can scare up for dinner…"

He had never eaten Jordan's cooking before tonight. The woman could cook…he had to give her that…far better than he thought she could. He had cooked for her once…the Sickboy case where she first wore that red dress. He had prepared pasta and marinara sauce in her Pearle Street apartment.

And she had liked it.

Woody sighed and rolled over on his side. That was four years ago… he thought. Four years…At that time, he had been strongly attracted her, although the attraction was mainly physical. Jordan was…hot. Still is…

The physical attraction morphed into something more with time. Respect…admiration…and the desire to protect. For all of Jordan's strengths, at times she held this fragile vulnerability around her that simply had made Woody want to wrap his arms around her and take care of her. Hold her until all her fears and demons melted away.

He screwed that up in the hospital. She had reached out to him and he shoved her back. He said that he didn't need her pity…told her to go away…get out. And for the first time in their relationship, Jordan had done exactly what he had asked.

For a while, he had been sure that was exactly what he wanted. A chance to start over…new and fresh. He hadn't chanced that seeing her again would jump start some emotions he was sure was dead.

And he sure as hell hadn't anticipated that the kiss she gave him today would burn its way to the core of his being. Woody moved restlessly in bed, his attention now caught by the light of the moon reflecting on his wedding ring. He smiled at the irony. The woman he had chased…desired….wanted for so long was now his wife…

His wife.

A year ago, he'd given anything to be able to say that. Now he wasn't sure how to process it. Yes, it was only for this case. And yes, she had done it because his back was truly bothering him. It bothered him to the point he couldn't go down for dinner. She had brought it up to him and examined his back, finally insisting that an ice pack would do him good.

In the end, she had pitied him. And her pity had made her Mrs. Woodrow Hoyt.

But, he reflected, her pity wasn't such a bad thing. She had fussed over him tonight and he had let her. As matter of fact, it felt good to be the center of someone's attention, even if it was just for a couple of weeks, he rationalized. And he would do the same for her if she was ever hurt.

He looked at his wedding ring in the moonlight. It looked strange to see it on his left hand…he twisted it and pulled it off, observing his hand now plain and ordinary. It looks stranger with it off, he thought as he slid the ring back on. I've been married less than six hours…and I'm already used to my wedding ring? There must be something wrong with me…it's the meds…

And if he kept telling himself that, he was sure he would believe it.