Chapter Five

Just Click Your Heels Together

Woody left his studio apartment an hour after Jordan's departure, still just as angry, still just as frustrated, and still just as confused as he was when he watched her search for her thong. There are no guarantees in love… Yeah, he did remember saying those words to Jordan … over three years ago when they were still teeter-tottering around their feelings. As if we still aren't…he thought.

Maybe they still were, but the upward and downward swings were becoming less and less. There had been an admittance of sorts. He loved her. She loved him. And even if they weren't on the same page right now, at the very least they were in the same chapter.

Sort of.

The truth was Woody was ready to take the book back to the library, pay his overdue fee, and go buy a cheap men's magazine at the adult store around the corner…for all this relationship was becoming.

He never had a clue that love could mean two different things to the two people that were sharing the same emotion.

For Jordan, it seemed the emotion included physical affection…kissing, making out, sex…all the tangible aspects of love without the emotional intimacy.

Call him a boy-scout-Dudley-Dorighter at heart, but for Woody the physical followed the emotional. Let me in your heart and mind and then in your body.

He knew he had walked ass-backwards into this relationship. He knew it. He had gone in with his eyes wide open and other parts of his body standing at attention. But he had hoped that, for Jordan, the emotional would follow the physical.

Not a chance.

Her heart was still as guarded as ever. And he knew it was partly his fault. Woody didn't think she had ever really recovered from his rejection of her after he was shot. He had said he was sorry a thousand times and had eaten his words every way he could, but they had been said and he realized that her heart bore one more scar because of his hard-hearted, careless, selfish comments. And he was sure that for that reason alone, the lady had issues about emotional intimacy with him.

But still…actions should speak louder than words. He had always been there for her. He had saved her sweet ass more times than he could count. And if she would let him, he would show her that intimacy was more than him knowing every inch of every lush curve of her naked body.

That however, was not likely to happen. At least not anytime soon. Still angry and still frustrated because he wasn't sure who to direct his anger at, he slammed the door to his apartment as he left for work. It was going to be a long day and he could already feel a tension headache throbbing between his temples.

Have you ever had the dumb luck to find someone that loves you…loves you for you… unconditionally. They don't have to be in your life…they want to be.

The remnants of that old conversation Jordan had with Dr. Lisa so many years ago kept running around her mind today for some reason. Dumb luck…She wouldn't call her relationship with Woody dumb luck…but it was definitely unconditional. Woody always seemed to be ready to be with her at whatever level she was willing to give him. Now…not now…right now…sex, no sex…kiss me quick…kiss me slow and wet and long. Whatever she wanted, he was willing to give.

But what he seemed to want, she couldn't give…and that bothered her. A white-picket fence. Four bedrooms, two-and-half-baths-two-story-Cape-Cod-in-the-suburbs-life with a swing set in the back and 2.5 kids and a Labrador retriever, complete with mini-van. Jordan shuddered. It wasn't in her.

She couldn't see herself settling down. Not that she couldn't see herself attached to Woody for the long term…but to be someone's wife? She wasn't sure that was in her psyche or her vocabulary.

Besides, that would complicate things more than they needed to be. Relationships end. They all do. Everyone Jordan had experienced had come to a dead end…sometimes literally … even the one with her father. She was incapable of any type of long-term relationship.

So why put Woody's heart up for target practice with her track record? She loved him. She knew that much. Loved him probably more than anyone else she ever had in her life. She loved him enough to keep the relationship where it was at so when it was over, Woody would feel free to go his way and find his suburban desperate housewife and start a family. Without the noose of a Cavanaugh around his neck.

But how will you feel when it's over? That was a question she always brushed away quickly. She guessed it depended on how the relationship ended. If they quarreled and he kept whining for a commitment, Jordan had no doubt that one day, she would turn and gladly walk away.

However, if he employed those puppy-dog eyes like he did this morning, it would make telling him "no" harder, if not impossible. And that might lead her into a position where she really did hurt him down the road. Jordan had the feeling that a divorce might completely emotionally cripple the detective.

She sighed and turned back to the pile of paperwork on her desk…the last thing she had to do before leaving for the day. Nervously, she chewed the end of her pen. End of the day. Where would she sleep tonight? Her place? His place?

"Jesus…Kansas?" Woody nearly bellowed as Seely. "Are you fucking sure?"

Seely nodded. "If you look at the demographics, it makes sense. Kansas has more adult…. 'toy stores' than almost another state in the continental US."

"Dear God…Toto, we're not in Oz, are we?"

Seely chuckled at Woody's obtuse reference to The Wizard of Oz. "No, Dorothy and you ain't wearing the ruby slippers, so we can't click our heels together three times and be there. We have a flight out tomorrow at noon."

Woody sighed. On one hand, he wanted to clap Matt on the back and tell him what a great job he had done on this child pornography case. Woody may not have found the perfect partner in Seely, but the men were damn close in their passion for their jobs as cops and Matt hated child porn just as much as Woody did. Where Woody didn't try to hide his emotions, but kept them on his sleeve, Matt would wear his under a thick layer of seemingly cool indifference. Woody was only now understanding just how long and how hard Seely would work to bring justice to those who needed it.

"So we'll be doing surveillance work out there?" Woody asked, studying the flight itinerary in front of him.

"That's the plan. We'll keep the perp under watch until he makes a move…a move that may bring young boys back here to Boston. If we think that's happening, we call in the Kansas police and take him in."

Woody sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The older he got the less patience he had for surveillance work. "How long is Walcott going to keep us out there?" he finally asked.

"Until the job's done."

"Shit…"

Seely shrugged. "And before you ask, no, Jordan can't come."

"I wasn't going to…"

"Sure you weren't," Matt said, raising a knowing eyebrow. "Sure. I rrreeeaaalllly believe that. Yeah. Nope, Hoyt, you're just going to have to learn to live without her for a few weeks."

Jordan sighed as she got home from work, wearily leaning against the back of her red apartment door. It had been the day from hell. The child pornography case was about to kill her and everyone else in the ME's office as well as the Boston PD. "I'll never understand the people that actually get into that," she muttered to herself.

Kids. Porn. The two words should never be uttered in the same sentence at any time, as far as she was concerned. The day had taken its toll on her… and the night seemed to stretch out endlessly before her.

She was lonely. Not that she'd ever admit it, but she was. She needed him again tonight. Even if all they did was cuddle, tonight she needed him. Not just sexually, but his touch…his closeness. Needed him in a way that left her shaking.

Jordan had never felt this way in her adult life…quaking over the prospect of being alone. She had been left alone before, of course…but this was the first time she felt alone.

So with that, the decision was made about where she would spend tonight.

With Woody. All night. She wouldn't leave him as the early morning rays of light crept into his bedroom and painted the walls a buttery yellow. Tonight she would stay. He wouldn't have to ask.

And she'd make it special. She swung by her apartment, stripped, pulled out some less-is-more red lingerie from the back of her closet, donned it, and pulled her coat around it. Then she threw some things for tomorrow in a bag and hightailed it back to his studio apartment.

She knocked. Loudly. Twice. Swearing at herself, she finally pulled a small, metal nail file from her purse and set about one of her more nefarious talents – picking locks.

Once she was in, she surveyed the landscape of the apartment…in was nearly seven now…surely he would be home soon. And there was only one place she wanted to wait for him. Determinedly stripping off the coat, she headed for the bedroom. She'd be keeping his bed warm for him when he got home,