She was just a pretty young thing when they first met. He had stopped his truck in the dustbowl of a town just to gas up his rig when he noticed the girl sitting behind the counter of the gas station. He already paid for his gas at the pump, but after glancing at the girl with the perfect brunette curls again he figured he could use a fresh pack of smokes. Her long lashes obscured her eyes as she looked down at the magazine she was reading when he reached the counter.

"Excuse me miss..." He interrupted and she lifted her bright green eyes.

"How can I help you?" She asked, her southern accent as thick as the humidity in the air.

"Pack of Marlboro red 100s, sugar. Soft pack." She stood and reached above her, giving him a nice view of the bust and trim waist hidden beneath her tied flannel shirt. Good looking out there, Marlboro. He thought to ask her name as she rang the cigs but looking at her heart shaped face he let the question slide. Just passing through, he reminded himself. When she handed back the change from the wrinkled five he'd passed her he nodded to her when her fingertips brushed his palm.

"Thank you." He quickly exclaimed and pocketed the loose change. Stepping outside he squinted at the setting sun as he thumped the pack against his palm. It wouldn't hurt to stop in for a bit.

.

Many saturday nights Jolene would watch the door of the bar she now owned. There was never any pattern to when her Marlboro man would pass through town every few months but whenever he did, the small room above the bar was ready for him. The tiny southern town was as close to what he could call a home. A shower, a hot dinner, cold beer, and a warm bed to share was as much as he would allow Jolene to provide him. She'd seen him only a handful of times since that day he stopped into her gas station all those years ago, but it kept her watchful none the less. She busied herself with polishing the bar top near closing time when a deep voice behind her made her jump.

"Excuse me miss..."

"It's about time you rolled back into town." She said, smiling as he perched on the closest barstool. "What'll it be? The usual?"

He nodded as she rounded the bar, reaching for a glass and the bottle whiskey. "Does this mean you're sticking around for the night?" She asked as she poured him a neat one from the bottle she kept under the bar just for him. He turned the glass up to his lips, downing the amber liquid slowly.

"You tell me, darlin." He replied as she pulled another glass from behind the bar and poured herself a neat as well.

"Your room is just like you left it."

"It doesn't belong to me."

"It always has." She said as she drank. He chuckled when her face changed, the burn of the drink getting to her momentarily. She set about making a dinner for him and he ate as they watched several patrons laughing and drinking merrily.

.

Jolene watched the last of her drunken stragglers made their way home for the night as she ran through her final clean up duties. "Grab that door for me, will ya?" She asked as Barry, the last and most hammered of her customers, left for the night. Luke locked the door and crossed the room to the jukebox, turning it down but switching it over to Bob Seger. Her favorite song. Her smile when 'Night Moves' began made his breath catch in his throat as he crossed the bar back to her.

"You remembered." She chuckled.

"Anything that makes a pretty girl smile so big I make a point to remember." He didn't share that he kept a Seger cd in his truck that he listened to pretty often. 'Night Moves' skipped now from being overplayed, actually.

As he drank she busied herself with cleaning glasses and rearranging them, singing to herself. He watched her as she moved, watched the curves of her body under the faded Dodge shirt she wore. When she stood on her tiptoes to reach for a box overhead, Luke slid across the bar and stood behind her, reaching around her to help steady the box and bring it down to the bar.

"Thanks. I thought I was going to drop it." She breathed as he hovered behind her, producing a pocket knife to slit the tape on the box of alcohol bottles for her. Enjoying his nearness, Jolene leaned back against his solid chest.

"You should stay the night, Marlboro man."

His lips sought the curves of her neck while he hugged her back against his body, enjoying the warmth she generated. When she turned to kiss him he lifted her back to sit on the bar and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing him in closer as they kissed. He kissed her intensely like he hadn't kissed a woman in years. Her fingers roamed across his strong shoulders as he explored her mouth, his hands grasping her bottom and pulling her as close as their clothing would allow. Oh god how she'd missed him these past few month since he'd stopped in. She broke their kiss long enough to breathe

"Take me upstairs." She spoke against his mouth and he obliged, pulling her from the counter as she grabbed the bottle they'd been sharing and carrying her to the stairway. She laughed when he hauled her up over his shoulder, smacking her ass before taking the stairs carefully.

.

Upstairs he tossed her back against the bed before covering her body with his own, covering her face with kisses as he undid her belt and pulled it away from her body. He never was very gentle with her but his roughness excited her. She pulled his plaid shirt over his head, ignoring the buttons, as he left kisses lower down her body. With a swift motion he freed her of her denim shorts, pausing to rub her through her panties and making her moan out his name.

"I love it when you moan my name."

"I bet you say that to all of the girls." She taunted and he pulled her hair in response as he moved back down her body. Grasping the sheets she moaned as he pleasured her, his beard burning the delicate skin of her thighs. They could both hear the Waylon Jennings record playing downstairs as he moved over, reaching off the bed for the bottle and taking a swig. He passed the bottle to her and she drank as he fumbled with his pants, working to free himself from the fly of his jeans. Not bothering to discard his shoes and pants, he readied himself between her thighs, pausing to put on the condom she passed him from the nightstand.

In the morning Jolene opened her eyes, squinting against the morning sun. She found herself alone in the large bed once again, just like every time he stayed the night. She knew without looking that the black Mack truck would be missing from the parking lot. She stumbled through her shower and into fresh clothes before easing her way downstairs, her head still pounding as she sought out her sunday morning hair of the dog. He'd left the last shot of whiskey in a glass on the bar for her, next to the $50 he'd left to pay for his dinner and drinks. She always insisted his tab was on the house but he always paid for the bottle they shared. And he always managed to find a wildflower outside to pick and leave in the bottle they'd finished off.

.

Two years later Jolene stood behind the counter of her bar one last time, glancing past the bodies occupying the space and out to the parking lot, praying she'd catch a glimpse of that black big rig one last time. "We sure are gonna miss you, Jolene." Barry mused, patting her arm.

"I'll miss ya'll too." She replied, her eyes falling on the face of her old friend. "But it's time to move on."

Her thoughts drifted to the little one napping at home in her sister's arms. He needs his mother. And he deserved a better life than growing up in a bar. She watched the door for a few more minutes, wishing to see his face one more time. Just wishing she had the chance to at least tell him about the little one at home with his thin face and her bright green eyes. But to go two years without stopping in, well...it was unlike him. With a sigh she handed the keys to the new owner and ducked out, leaving a picture of her and her young son pinned to the cork board filled with everyone's pictures from over the years.

.

Meanwhile, deep in the swamp, another man held her picture in his palm. Luke didn't need her anymore. He didn't need the road, his rig, or this foolish little girl anymore. The man crumbled the picture in his leather sheathed fist before thrusting it into the pocket of his white pants. Luke had a family now. And he'd never need a hot meal or a bed ever again.

"Welcome home, son."