A/N: You all had to see this coming, right? Well those of you that know about my little Carrie obsession had to see this coming. This is just a fun little oneshot – no spoilers and not set in any season really. Although, I do think it's more of a season 3 - hiatus to season 4- oneshot.

It's totally random and might actually read a little awkward and you'll be a little surprised I think - but this is how the muse wanted to play it and believe me I tried to change things around but he wasn't having any of it. Hope you enjoy it. :)

Dedicated to Julia for having to deal with Dialup this weekend. :(

He's like a curse; he's like a drug.

You get addicted to his love.

You wanna get out, but he's holding you down,

Cause you can't live without one more touch.

He's a good time Cowboy Casanova,

Leaning up against the record machine.

Looks like a cool drink of water,

But he's candy - coated misery

He's a devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes,

And, he only comes out at night.

Gives you feelings you don't wanna fight.

You better run for your life.

- 'Cowboy Casanova' – Carrie Underwood.

She sat tracing the rim of her glass as she sat at the bar, flashing a smile in his direction every so often as he stood, with his arm propped against the record machine.

He was definitely a heartbreaker. That much she could tell. It radiated off him. He oozed confidence. Arrogance. Yet there was just something about him that drew her eyes to him.

She'd previously seen him scope out the crowd. Almost as if he was looking for someone… Which he probably was. A girlfriend? Fiancée perhaps? She was unsure.

But there was no way he was single. That much she was positive of.

He'd caught her looking the third time, flashed her a polite smile, but showed no interest.

There goes my night! She mused as she raised a hand for the bartender's attention. It was probably wishful thinking anyway.

He was now glancing all around the bar, looking at every group of people that stood in friendship circles, sat in the booths, or walked through the door.

Oh yeah, he was definitely looking for someone. That was for sure.

Glancing down at her watch, she shrugged at the time. It was almost worth sat watching him, seeing what this mystery woman looked like.

And if he had to leave alone…. Well.

She began to picture the girl he had to be waiting for. Blonde. Tall. Not taller than him though. Long legs probably. Girl next door? Probably not. But there'd be something about her – some quality that stopped you in your tracks.

She was aware she was blatantly staring now; but it was like she was addicted to just looking at him and taking in everything he did. He had charisma - that was for sure. Just in the way he held himself, she knew he had something special about him.

The bartender placed her drink in front of her and she nodded in thanks.

Taking in the surroundings around him, her brow furrowed. He had two shots of tequila on a napkin above the record machine, accompanied with two beers.

Hmm. Maybe he was waiting for a friend? A male friend?

She considered it. He was dressed too nice to be waiting for a guy friend. And he definitely wasn't gay – so that was out of the question. He may be uninterested in her, but she'd spied him eyeing up the other patrons of the bar. Not leering – or lusting for that matter. Almost like a comparison. He'd always smirk and stand proud.

His girl must be a knock out, she thought to herself as she took another sip of her cocktail.

His hand slipped into the pocket and pulled out his cell and glanced around the bar, disappointment displayed across his face.

Well, it was for sure he wasn't on a blind date and the said date had walked out – he'd never have that problem.

So clearly Miss Girlfriend was running late.

He was dressed differently to any other person in the bar. The black shirt he was sporting was just the typical attire accompanied with his jeans. But the boots? That was a first. He'd tucked them under his jeans, but they were boots nonetheless

Country boy, maybe?

Nah. She shook her head – he was way too confident – too much in his element in the city to be a cowboy.

He reached up and grabbed his beer from the record machine. Starting without her?

How long had he actually been here?

She shrugged – whomever he was waiting for obviously had to be really worth it.

His eyes lit up momentarily as the door opened and she turned with him to see who'd walked in. She turned to see his reaction and saw him sigh and roll his eyes before glancing down at his watch.

So apparently that wasn't her.

Why didn't he just give her a call? Text her? Least then he'd have his answer.

She laughed as she took another sip of her cocktail. You're really that desperate as to give him relationship advice sat from afar?

He actually was like a drug that she couldn't get enough of; she tried to mask her laugh at her inner thought process. What was her problem? There had to be a hundred available guys in the bar at the present time.

Yet she was admiring the only one that was clearly off the market.

He obviously felt her eyes on him as he turned to where she sat and raised his eyebrows as a friendly gesture, before turning his attention back to the door.

She felt her heart flutter.

Those blue eyes.

Wow.

She looked around, making sure no one had seen her blush – everyone was too busy doing his or her own thing, but still.

Wow.

Wow, wow, wow.

Turn again, she mused - just to make sure she'd not imagined the blue eyes in her alcohol fuelled state.

She had to go. There was no way that she could stick around here and just have jealousy simmering underneath the surface when she saw the knock out that his girlfriend was.

Flinging a twenty on the counter, she grabbed her bag and stepped down from the stool as she headed to the door.

Turning to glance at him one last time, she took in the Cowboy Casanova as she'd dubbed him.

She took a few steps towards the door, glancing at her watch, she'd been there thirty minutes –and he'd been there before her. Poor guy was in for a long night.

Stumbling into a petite brown both instantly apologised, and the brunette placed her hands on the woman's shoulders, steadying her.

Bless her! She mused to herself. "It's fine," she shouted to her over the music, "I'm probably not all that steady on my feet as it is! It's not your fault!"

The brunette smiled warmly and turned to her tall friend stood behind her. She tugged on his hideous tie, and said something to him before turning back to face her, "He's gonna hail a cab for you!" she yelled back to her.

She smiled in response but shook her head, "There's no need. Honest."

The two new patrons of the bar shared a look between themselves. They had to be cops. To be just random people stumbling into a bar, they'd spent way too much time speaking to her already.

"Honestly." She assured them again.

The brunette smiled and wished her a good rest of her night as she tugged on her taller friend's jacket through the bar.

Turning, just to see where they went, she felt a huge smile creep across her face as her eyes fell on Casanova's face.

That was his girl.

Which made perfect sense.

She leant against the wall for a moment, just to see how he greeted her. Would it be some raging argument because of how long he'd been waiting? She figured not – she was too nice to engage in an argument – and he'd probably understand anyway if she were a cop.

The woman smiled as she watched the petite brunette who was currently extending her hand letting him pull her through the crowd, which he did, as he spun her around before taking in her outfit.

She saw him mouth "Montana," and brunette rolled her eyes in response, slugging him on the arm. Clearly it was a term of endearment between the two.

He turned to slap his friend on the back and they engaged in some friendly banter before the taller man tucked his Casanova's tiny girlfriend to his side and squeezed her – obviously irking the boyfriend.

The three broke into laughter as Casanova pulled Girlfriend into his arms and handed her the shot, to which they both held the glasses in a 'cheers' before downing them and shaking their heads. Girlfriend stood on her tiptoes, leaning across Casanova, making sure he'd seen her new lingerie, she figured - 'cause why else? As she grabbed the beer he'd bought for her.

He might not be country, but she definitely was.

Which probably explained the cowboy boots.

She glanced around and realised she was probably about to be done for mild stalking. She took once last glance over and smiled as she watched Girlfriend wrap her arms around Casanova's neck, leaning her forehead against his.

Yeah, he was gorgeous. Yeah, he was addictive. Yeah, he could have anyone in that bar, she mused to herself. He had that air of confidence that made your eyes be drawn to him…

But – he adored his girlfriend. That much was for sure.

Maybe he wasn't that much of a Casanova after all.

I'd love to know what you thought - especially seen as it was kind of different. Thanks for reading :)