Tennessee Whiskey
The contrast is blinding between the two bodies swaying on the dance floor.
Wisps of honey blonde hair fall over the side of his face, it's length cuffing his angular jaw. His eyes find hers as they move on the polished wood floor, blue eyes sparkling as a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. His long fingers are wrapped around hers, heat pooling between their palms. As they move he feels her fingers flex around his in embarrassment.
"I forgot you could dance," the woman in his arms says, dark brow lifting.
"I am from Texas." he drawls as if the statement is an answer on its own.
She wants to scowl at him but when his fingers play on her waist she can't concentrate. He plucks and slides them over her sun dress, fingertips moving with the strumming guitar inside the song.
The music is a low thrum falling upon their ears.
You're as smooth as Tennessee Whiskey
She feels like a child against him, being lead around on the floor. He's taller than she is but only slightly. She's glad she hasn't worn heels but instead opted for deep tan cowboy boots. Coming here, to this location, demands it in a way. She blushes when she hears the catcall whistle coming from the blonde beauty who is draped against the bar, her light brown brows wiggling above her cloudy grey eyes.
"Your sister is drunk," Leah mumbles as her nose presses against his shoulder. He smells of spearmint and a hint of smoke from the cigar he had shared with Emmett earlier in the evening.
"She's always drunk," the Texan drawls as he turns them so he can get an eye on his sister. "It's her bar. And she's a big girl. I'm not going to put a dampener on her evening."
Leah can't help but snort. "How chivalrous of you."
"That, my dear, is something you can count on," he whispers as he places his lips near her ear. "Plus, it's her husbands issue, not mine. She isn't sixteen anymore."
He slinks one leg back, pushing her down with his chest as his hand holds her back securely so they dip. He's extra careful. "And neither are you."
She isn't a fan of the motion but allows him to do it. She owes him that much. "Oh, you wish I was still sixteen, you pervert."
You're as sweet as strawberry wine
He chuckles at her statement as he pulls them both back up. "Not at all. I prefer you as you are, right here, in this moment."
His hands curve over her body, a body she is finally getting used to, finally learning how to use. The teenage uncertainty has disappeared from her limbs, and now she's a shimmering star in the darkest of his nights. He remembers back to the night he first saw her, dark eyes wandering over him, seeking out her own kind of solace. She had brought him to his knees with just one look; a look which she still possesses in the soft beige coloured bedroom they share.
She smirks knowingly. "Well thank you, Lieutenant. You're still pretty hot yourself."
He laughs loudly at her statement as one of her hands slide to squeeze his rear. "Darling, you are just too much."
You're as warm as a glass of Brandy
"You love it," she whispers as they step to the left.
"I know I do. What a crazy fool I am." He replies softly.
The bar is almost void of patrons and they are the only couple standing vulnerable on the floor. He moves his hand and strokes away a piece of hair that is stuck to her cheek. He wonders how he could love her as much as he does, wonders how it was possible to love another so deeply, that everything he did, was for, and because of her.
"I can hear you thinking," Leah says as she looks up into his eyes which are as clear as iced water, bluer than the Pacific ocean in the summer time.
"You want to know what's on my mind?" Jasper hums gently as he grasps her hand and turns her. He pulls her back in, almost instantly.
"Sure."
"I'm thinking about how you and me should make this a more - permanent thing."
Both eyebrows shoot up this time. Her mouth quirks and he feels enamoured at the look she gives him. Her almond hazel eyes sparkle in the dim light, searching his face for a reason why.
"Because I'm pregnant?"
There's no malice in her voice, just curiosity.
He could admit that while it was a major factor, it wasn't the only reason.
"You know I love you, darlin, even with your unfavourable temper and your razor sharp tongue." He presses a kiss to her mouth before she can interrupt him. "And you know how I feel about marriage. How could anyone ever sum up our lives on one single piece of paper? No book nor a whole library of books, could ever contain the amount of love I feel for you in words. Paper is not enough. Not anything here on earth is worthy. Not even the stars. But - it means something to you. And if you'll have me, I would be honoured to be your husband."
Leah tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, teeth sliding over the berry flesh. She can't help but grin, "Remind me of how many drinks you've had tonight?"
He rolls his eyes and tugs her impossibly closer. "Just say yes, woman. Your mother and father are expecting a call."
"You talked to my Dad?" she asks, reeling back to look up at him.
He nods softly. "Of course I did. What kind of man do you take me for?"
"Oh, for fuck sakes! SAY YES, CLEARWATER!" the blonde at the bar calls out.
Leah discreetly gives the woman a finger behind her back.
She looks up at Jasper, cupping his bristled cheek, her thumb running over his mouth as she answers.
"Well then, let's do it."
And honey I stay stoned, on your love, all the time
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An: Inspired by Chris Stapleton's 'Tennessee Whiskey'