Chapter Eleven
Don't Forget the Matches
It was back…his memory was back. He could remember everything. His first assignment in Boston. The last assignment he had been on before he lost his memory. Riggs. Cal. Lu. All the past came flooding back to him…relief from an emotional drought.
But mostly he remembered her. Jordan. The risks and the rewards of being with her. Woody stood up from the couch and walked over to the window. He remembered every case they had been on together…the ring … and then how he pushed her away after he had been injured. He winced inwardly when he recalled the pain in her eyes…pain that made him hurt.
He remembered that night at the Lucy Carver Inn and every other opportunity he had the chance to hold her.
And then push her away one more time. It had been safe pushing her away. Safe for him, anyway. She was too complicated…she was unsure of herself…she would play with his heart. She would, wouldn't she?
No, Woody sighed and pushed away from the window frame. If anyone had played with another person's emotions, it was him. Jordan's feelings for him had been made clear from the time Riggs shot him. He was the one who kept reeling her in and then casting her away. She even broke her steady, reliable relationship with Pollack – a man that clearly loved her and was willing to overlook a blatant infidelity to be with her – when Woody had given her every indication he was ready to move forward in the relationship.
And then he backed out again. Cold.
Jordan had been right when she called him a son of a bitch all those months ago. That's what he was. What he had been – at least to her. He had pushed her away because he wasn't willing to take the risk. After all these years of accusing her of being too afraid of relationships to hazard her heart, he was the one that was really the big coward.
Not her.
And she still wasn't afraid. Jordan had been given the perfect opportunity to back out of his life for good when his memory went AWOL. Instead, she had stuck by him…helped him in everyway she could. Encouraged him.
Yet had carefully erected an emotional wall to keep him at a distance so she wouldn't be hurt again.
Woody sighed. He didn't blame her. He had hurt her enough. Yes, Jordan had changed from the first time he had met her. She was loving and warm. Compassionate. Caring.
Or maybe she had been this way the whole time. She just had gotten to the point where she trusted him enough to show those sides of her character. Then he had to go and break her heart, not once, but three times.
No wonder she had put the walls up again.
No, money hasn't changed Jordan, he reflected. I did.
"No shittin' me?" Seely asked as soon as he had finally gotten back to the office.
"No, I'm not. It's back. My memory's back…I woke up and it's back," Woody replied, a little embarrassed at his friend's exuberance.
"Hoyt, that's wonderful. I know you're … well, more than happy."
"Relieved. Ecstatic. That pretty much sums it up."
"Who else have you told?"
"Just you."
Matt looked at him curiously. "You haven't told Jordan?"
"Not yet."
"She'll want to know."
Woody nodded. "Is she at the morgue?"
"No," Matt shook his head. "Not today. Macy told her to stay at home until they cleared the streets up on Beacon Hill."
"So she's home…"
"I would imagine. Not too many people are out joy-riding right now."
Woody grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Matt….do me a favor and clock me out."
"Woods, you can't be serious…" Matt followed his partner out the door. "It's freezing outside and there's six feet of snow on the ground with more falling…"
"Never been more serious about anything in my life."
"Can't you just call her?"
"Would she just call me over something like this?"
Matt stopped chasing Woody as soon as he saw the other detective had already gone through the front doors. Dutifully he went back and clocked Hoyt out, praying the next traffic fatality he answered didn't involve an old Chevelle.
"Hang on…I'll be there in a minute," Jordan called out to the banging at her front door. Who on earth, in this weather… "Woody?" she answered herself, not fully believing he was at her front door. "What on earth are you doing out in all this … snow?"
"Can I come in, Jordan? It's freezing out here." The shiver he gave this time was real.
"Ummm, sure. Sorry." She pushed open the door wider to let him in, noting this time something was different. That old, confident swagger was back…either he just made the collar of the century or… "But it's not that much warmer in here," she continued.
"You're power's off," he noted, taking in the darkness and chilly temperature.
"Yeah. It's been out for a while now." She led him down the hall to the room she was staying in. "But I have a fire place in here."
Woody followed her in, but paused in the middle of the room. "Your fire's going out. Where's the wood?"
Jordan pointed to the corner near the fireplace. "But you don't have to…I can do that."
Woody shook his head. "No. We need to talk and I want you to be warm and comfortable." He took off his coat and began to add wood into the fireplace.
The blue sweater. He just had to wear the blue sweater, Jordan thought, her eyes greedily drinking in the sight of him. It had been a couple of weeks since she had seen him. The blue sweater that matched his eyes perfectly and clung to his chest like a second skin. She swallowed hard and told her libido to calm down. Trying to think about anything but the way he looked in the sweater and those jeans, she asked, "What do you need to talk to me about?"
Woody put the last log on the fireplace and made sure it was okay before he slowly turned to face her. "It's back, Jo."
Jordan felt all the blood leave her face for her feet and knew the expression on her face told what was on her heart. "Your memory?"
Woody nodded.
"You remember everything?"
"I remember everything."
"Oh." Jordan looked down at her hands and noticed her fingers were now trying to tie themselves in knots. "I…I…I'm happy for you, Woody."
"Thanks…but are you really?"
"Of course."
Woody looked at her closely. "I don't think so….at least not entirely."
"If you remember everything, then you remember us…what happened…" She was still looking down at her fingers.
"I do."
"Then why are you here?" Jordan managed to bite out. Once his memory returned, she was sure that his anger at her would be there again.
"Hey." Woody reached out and gently took her hands…which felt like ice. "Come over by the fire. We need to talk." He pulled her over to the fireplace and sat on the floor, pulling her down with him. He kept her hands in his, rubbing her cold fingers until he was satisfied they, and the rest of her, was getting warm. "I do remember everything, Jordan. And I came to tell you I am sorry for the way I acted. I was an ass…a son of a bitch….everything you said I was, I really was…ten times over."
An apology wasn't what she expected. She anticipated more anger….even though she had gone overboard to help him while he was recovering, she had expected him to resent it. "Oh," was all she could reply as he had effectively taken the wind out of her emotional sails.
"Am I forgiven?"
Still trying to recover, she nodded.
"Can we be friends?"
"Woody…." Even with his apparent change of heart, she wasn't sure that was such a good idea.
"I remember everything, Jo. What happened before I lost my memory and what happened while I was trying to get it back. You were more than kind to me. And you didn't have to be…"
"But I wanted to be," she began. "You were more like your old self…the one before Riggs…my old Woody….the Farm Boy," her voice trailed off, as her face flushed, a little embarrassed at her admission. "The man I fell in love with…." In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought, musing over one of Nigel's sayings.
"Everyone changes, Jordan. The incident with Riggs changed me more than I even realized until my memory short circuited and then decided to come back. I became someone I didn't recognize and certainly not the initial man you loved." He released one of her hands to softly brush her hair out of her face. "But he's still in there…that Wisconsin Farm Boy that you loved and that fell in love with you from the first minute he saw you."
"You loved me from the first minute you saw me?"
Woody chuckled. "Okay….love and lust kind of got twisted up in there, but yeah…I think so." He gave a gentle tug to pull her to him and got no resistance. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and felt her snuggle closer. "Am I forgiven?" he asked again.
She nodded. "Have I changed? Do you think money has made me into someone different?"
"No." His voice came in a whisper above her head. "I tried to believe it would…but it didn't. You've let down the walls you built around yourself, Jordan. That's what's changed about you. I always knew there was this warm, caring, compassionate woman inside…it just took a while to get her out of the tower she built around herself." He moved one hand to her face, tilting it up so she was looking him in the eyes. "Friends?" he softly murmured.
"I think so."
"More than friends, maybe?"
"Oh, I hope so…."
Woody gently brushed his lips to hers and felt her cling to him. He kept the kiss light…although there was a wealth of emotion behind that honest caress.
And he knew the consequences if it got out of hand. Despite the fireplace, the room was chilly….and he and she both would have a hell of a hard time explaining frostbite on certain body parts….
It was different this time around. From that night during the blizzard on, Woody had made sure of it.
That night, he had simply held her, making sure she was warm, getting up several times during the night to put wood on the fire, letting her depend on him for a change. Not that she hadn't done so in the past, but he hadn't given her opportunity to recently.
He was going to change that, effective immediately. And as the blizzard snows melted away and spring held the promise of a new beginning, so did their relationship. No more one-step-forward-two-steps-back. Woody had plotted a course this time and seemed determined to make progress.
He had learned what made her tick. It wasn't just kissing that spot on her neck that made her go limp and hold tighter to him. It wasn't sending her pink roses for no reason at all.
It was letting her know that he would be there for her no matter what. That he wasn't going to pull away from her again and leave her alone, like so many other people in her life had done.
It took awhile…a long while, but it was worth it. There was a sparkle in her eyes he hadn't seen before. And that sparkle put a spring in his step he had never felt. Woody had always known love was a give and take issue…but never imagined he'd be the happiest giving instead of doing the taking.
It wasn't easy, but it was simple. He smiled to himself when he saw her come into the precinct, reports in hand. "You lookin' for me?" he asked, speaking from across the room at the coffee pot.
"Always." She returned his smile and handed him the reports. "I think everything you need is inside there," she continued, indicating the manila folder.
"Maybe for this case, but not for me." He glanced quickly around the bull pen. No one was really watching…he lightly brushed his lips to hers.
"I was hoping you'd say that…"
"What do you think about getting together this evening…dinner…a movie back at your house?"
"Sounds good detective…but it's too warm for a fire in the fireplace…"
Woody nodded. "I know…but there are other fires to be built…if you know what I mean…" he wagged his eyebrows at her.
"Hmmmm. I think I do…I'll see you tonight, Detective. And don't forget to bring the matches." She walked off with a saunter that sent all his blood pooling south.
Some things never changed.
Thank God.
