Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise. Except the mistakes, those are mine.
A/N: I've hit a brick wall face first in Grace of an Angel, I'm suffering a little writer's block so I tried to remedy it with this. The title is from my favourite Conway Twitty song and I borrowed some of the lyrics, but I wouldn't say this is a song-fic. Hopefully the block is gone and I can update Grace of an Angel as soon as possible ;)
As always – enjoy*
The air was thick with cheap cigarette smoke, it was suffocating and yet it comforted him, or maybe it was the old country music coming from the banged up jukebox in the far corner that did the trick. The back of his head throbbed with pain, but the bourbon was far more soothing than the couple of pain killers that had been shoved in his hand. Pulling his tumbler towards him, he drained the last mouthful and slammed it down on the bar.
The bartender eyed him wearily as he filled the tumbler again, he didn't say anything as he watched him knock back the entire tumbler before pushing it towards him again. The tumbler was filled once more and the bartender moved down the bar to another customer.
Jethro reached up and ran a hand over the back of his head, wincing when he encountered the stitches Ducky had sown in. Who knew a 7-iron could leave such a large gash?
He should have seen it coming, Diane had been more of a bitch than usual. It was bad enough that she had cleaned out his bank account, but hitting him over the head was adding insult to injury.
Jethro took another healthy swig of his bourbon, already signalling the bartender for a refill. He watched as the young man filled his tumbler and muttered something under his breath. He didn't want be in this stuffy bar either – but she was still in his house, and he didn't have anywhere else to go.
The wolf-whistles behind him drew him out of his brooding.
The crimson curls cascading over her shoulders was the first thing he noticed about her. He leered at her like every other warm blooded male in the bar. She didn't belong here, and she tried to hide it with the tight fitting denim clothes she wore. Her eyes darted over the smoke-filled bar, and he knew she was in unfamiliar territory.
Jethro turned back to glaring at all the liquor bottles on display and reached for his tumbler again – a poor attempt at a smile tugging on his lips. The excitement died down and everyone returned to drinking the night away.
"What will it be, ma'am?" The young bartender asked his new costumer.
Jethro looked up from staring at his amber coloured whiskey, surprised that the kid was in front of him again. Turning his head slightly he saw her standing next to him, and he couldn't help but stare at her again. There was a sense of uncertainty in her eyes and it made him do something he didn't usually do.
"Get her a beer." He was going to buy her a drink.
"Not exactly champagne, but it'll have to do." Came her alto purr – and it sent a shiver down his spine. Jethro snorted and took a sip of his own drink. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Jenny." Her smooth silky voice wrapped around him.
"Hmm?" He grunted, looking at the outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow. Jethro smirked as he watched her roll her eyes at him, clearly unimpressed. She took the seat next to his and he turned towards her. Finally relenting, he reached for her hand and shook it.
"Jethro." He returned and watched as her face creased in a radiant smile.
The bartender placed a chilled bottle of beer on the bar, raising an eyebrow at Jethro and shaking his head. He topped up the older man's tumbler and left to tend to someone else again.
Jethro watched as Jenny pulled the dark glass bottle towards her, lifting it to her lips – lips that were painted a sinful red colour. He took the opportunity to study her. It was impossible to miss the way her breasts were straining against her blouse, showing off a decent amount of cleavage. Her jeans were oh-so tight and showing just how well toned her legs were, and the 6-inch black Christian Louboutin's just added in making them look impossibly long.
Drawing his gaze back up her enticing body he met her beautiful emerald eyes. He could see the mirth dance in the green orbs as she watched him blatantly stare at her. She was a little self-conscious about being scrutinised but his lingering gaze seemed to be welcomed. He felt his mouth go dry as she licked a drop of beer off her sinful red lips.
"Jethro," She said his name and even in his slightly inebriated state of mind he could feel his body react to her, "your mother ever tell you that it's rude to stare?"
Jenny bit her lip as Jethro gave her a lopsided smirk, "Nope." came his reply and deep laugh reverberated inside his chest, his icy blue eyes shining brightly. There was something about him that had made her gravitate towards him. It could have been his startling good looks, or the sadness she'd seen in his features when he had turned to look at her.
They didn't talk after that, they each simply enjoyed the other silent company. Jethro finished his glass of bourbon, not entirely sure how many he'd had so far. Clearing his throat he turned to the woman next to him, who was still in every sense of the word – a stranger.
"What's a woman like you doin' here?" He asked gruffly as he pushed his tumbler away from him. She didn't belong here, she was from a different world and he could see it in the way she held herself. It was all obvious in the way she held the glass bottle, and her head high like the prim lady she truly was.
Jenny narrowed her eyes at him, taken aback by his question. She had hoped that no-one would notice that she was out of place in a world she secretly longed for. Placing her beer on the bar, she slid off her barstool and leaned into the handsome man in front of her.
"I'm not what I seem." She whispered, her painted lips brushing against his ear seductively. "I'll answer your question if you dance with me."
Jethro scoffed shaking his head, "Nice try, but I don't dance." he met her emerald pools. His attention was quickly diverted to her mouth again as she licked her lips, and to the dainty hand she had placed on his shoulder.
Jenny stepped away from him, she lifted her elegant shoulders in a shrug, her eyes already searching for someone else to dance with. It wasn't hard to find a potential candidate, there were a number of men waiting to pounce on her, although none of them were as alluring as Jethro.
Jethro clenched his jaw as he watched her walk away, the swing of her hips attracting every male's attention. He felt the possessiveness inside him rear its ugly head as she headed towards the group of young men who all wanted a piece of her. Grounding his teeth together, he slid off his barstool. It registered that he had a wife at home, probably waiting for him with his rifle in her murderous hands.
It only took a few quick strides for him to catch up to her.
Grabbing her arm gently he steered her away from the boisterous group of men and towards the dance floor. He didn't have to see her face to know she was smirking. "You're playing with fire." He growled in her ear as they stepped onto the dance floor.
"I've always wanted to get my fingers burned." There was more to her witty answer and once again he wondered how she had ended up in a place like this.
Jenny looped her arms around Jethro's neck, playing with the soft hair she found, mindful of the stitches she'd seen earlier. Jethro placed his hands on her hips and pulled her into him, he was surprisingly warm as he held her close.
Jethro slid one hand to the small of her back as the other found its way inside the back pocket of her jeans. He smirked when he saw her eyes widen in disbelief as he – rather blatantly – copped a feel. He knew that what he was doing was frowned upon, he was still married, but that was going to change in the next two weeks. He moved in time with the country music playing, enjoying the way Jenny moved with him, her soft curvaceous body moulding against his.
She rested her head against his chest, considerably shorter than him despite the impossibly high heels. Jethro felt her body shudder against his as she breathed and for a brief moment he thought she was crying.
"I married money." She whispered as the music changed to something a little slower.
Jenny felt Jethro stiffen, he didn't pull away but his hands moved back to her hips instead. She smiled, he was probably the only one in the bar who respected her despite his wandering hands. "I left a very important dinner to come here tonight."
"Why?" Jethro asked in her ear as they moved across the dance floor.
"All I ever wanted was to be a good ol' boy's girl." She didn't know why she was telling him this, she didn't even know him, he was just some guy she had picked up in a bar.
Jethro chuckled at the irony. Out of all the men she chose him, the one with the worst track record when it came to women, because before Diane other women had also contemplated hurling things at him. Spinning Jenny around he pulled her so her back was against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder he pressed his lips against her ear.
"I'll try my best to make your dreams come true."
The bar was slowly becoming less crowded as people started leaving. Jethro watched as Jenny waltzed to the jukebox while he sipped his beer, he didn't want bourbon to make him forget about Jenny.
He'd seen the lady who had found herself in this bar a few hours earlier turn into quite the tiger with those tight jeans. He was almost reluctant to dance with her again, she had informed him that it would be their last since she needed to get back home. She crooked her index finger at him, placing his beer on the bar he moseyed to where she waited on the dance floor.
Both his hands found their way into her back pockets, squeezing her ass. She gasped and he smirked.
"Watch it cowboy." She husked, her lips pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Is it wrong that I don't want to go home?"
"I don't want to go home either." Jethro whispered in her ear and he felt her laugh.
"Me neither if I were you." Jethro pinched her side lightly and she yelped in surprise.
Jenny laughed and buried her face in his chest, he laughed with her and twirled her around until he pulled her back into his chest. One of his hands slid into her hair and tilted her head so he could look at her. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned down. Swallowing heavily she pushed him away.
"I have to leave." Jenny looked at him long and hard. Rushing towards him, she looped her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to hers.
Her lips were soft and pliable against his, Jethro fisted a hand in her hair and kissed her back. Biting her bottom lip, she gasped and he took to opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth. She tasted like beer and something sweet and spicy.
Jenny pulled away too quickly for his taste and when he found himself he was standing on the dance floor alone.
Jethro stared into his tumbler full of bourbon, remembering the last time he had been in the smoke-filled bar, thinking of the night he had met her. After they had parted ways he had found her in his fantasies, wearing nothing but those tight fitting jeans and her black stilettos. She was the reason he had come back here night after night, hoping he'd find her waiting for him.
Months had passed since they had met each other, his divorce had been finalised not long after meeting Jenny, and yet he still found himself in the same scruffy bar waiting for her.
Finishing his tumbler, he slammed it on the counter, getting the bartender's attention. He held up his hand when the kid wanted to refill his tumbler, he didn't want a refill, he wanted Jenny. Fishing for his wallet, he placed a few bills on the counter, covering his tab and the kid's tip for helping him.
A pair of slender arms wove around his neck.
He knew it was her, he could recognise her perfume anywhere, even in this place. Those sinful red lips brushed against his ear like it had that night, placing a kiss to just below his ear.
"Wanna dance, cowboy?"
I might do a second chapter, which would make this M-rated, but it's up to you to decide. Your thoughts and suggestions are welcomed :)
Thanks for reading.