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A small smirk appeared on his too-handsome face. Damn it, why did he have to look so drool-worthy when the rest of him annoyed the crap out of her?

She took two steps closer, tempted to poke him in the chest to emphasize what she was about to say. She thought better of it, though, and kept her hands to herself. “Lunch? Really? You’re asking me out right after releasing me from the jail you tried to put me in? You’ve got some nerve, with your bedroom eyes and handsome face.”

Whoops. That wasn’t supposed to slip out, but she kept going, hoping he’d overlook the unintentional compliment. “Bet that works on all the women, huh? Well, not me, buster. I’ll be eating with my aunt. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every day and night from now until the end of time, I’ll be busy. Understand?”

Tipping his stupid cowboy hat, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I understand completely. My apologies.”

She ignored how charming she found the gentlemanly gesture and how his flushed cheeks did things to her. It was unfair to all of womankind that a man like him existed and was still so aggravating. Could be worse, though—he could be gay or married and out of her reach.

Wait. What? What does that matter? I don’t want him in my reach! Right?

“May I at least drive you home since you’re without transportation at the moment?”

“You may not. I’ll call an Uber or Lyft.” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and tried to ignore the infuriating man.

“An... Uber or Lyft?” He scuffed one boot against the sidewalk, biting back a smile and saying nothing more. His tone was off, and dread sank into her stomach as a bad feeling crept over her.

“Yes, someone who drives you around. Like a taxi, but for the twenty-first century.” After thumbing in the code to unlock her phone, she tapped the app and tried to hire a ride, only to find the nearest available driver was thirty-five minutes away.

Of freaking course there wasn’t an Uber or Lyft anywhere nearby. What was she thinking? Butterfield might be bigger than Antelope Rock, but that was a pretty low bar. For crying out loud, there were probably more cows than people in the entire county.

Shit.

“Change your mind?” His bemused smile and arched brow irritated her to hell. She was surprised her hair didn't catch fire.

Shifting her gaze away from him for a moment, she considered his offer. As much as she hated to accept, she had no other options. She couldn’t walk back to her aunt’s house or call the woman to pick her up.

“Fine, you can take me home, but that’s it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking for more.” He waved her ahead, pointing to his department-issued SUV parked at the curb. Someone must have moved it for him while they were in court. “Right this way, my lady. Your chariot awaits. You can even sit in the front this time.”

She scoffed at his poor attempt at humor. “We can do this without all the charming bullshit you’re spewing.”

“Where would the fun in that be, though? And thank you.” He opened the passenger door for her.

“It wasn’t a compliment. For the record, I don’t find you charming.”

Liar.

After she settled into the passenger seat, he shut the door, rounded the front, and climbed behind the steering wheel. She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but apparently, her brain didn’t get the message. “Besides, I doubt you’d recognize fun if it jumped up and bit you on your tight ass.”

He turned sharply toward her, pausing mid-buckle on his seat belt. “Tight ass, huh? So you have been looking. You like me, admit it.”

Huffing, she flapped a hand in the air, trying to cover her embarrassing admission. “Like you? Puh-lease. An asshole wrapped in a pretty package is still an asshole.”

“You sure do have a way with words, don’t you? It’s not my fault you got your driving privileges restricted, you know. You’re just pissed because it’s your own damn fault and you hate being wrong. Am I right?” He winked, started the vehicle, and put it in drive without waiting for a response. “Buckle up. It’s the law, ya know.”

Snapping her belt into place, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window, determined to ignore him, but it was impossible. He was just so... much. He filled the vehicle with his very presence. His scent surrounded her, a combination of cologne, leather, and something distinctly male, and she pretended she didn’t want to wake up smelling him on her skin.

“Oh, the silent treatment, huh? I have a teenage daughter. I’m a champ at this game.” Reaching forward, he turned on the radio and immediately began singing along to Gunpowder and Lead by Miranda Lambert. He did his best to hit the high notes, which sounded more like a cat screeching than anything else.

“Oh, my God, stop!” she yelled, smacking her hands on the dashboard and glaring at the sheriff, who was red-faced with laughter. “What is wrong with you?”

“Got ya to talk, didn’t it?”

“But why do you even care? You arrested me!”

“Sure. I’d arrest my own daughter if she did what you did today. That being said, good people make dumb mistakes all the time. Just because you’re a terrible driver doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re a beautiful woman I’d love to take out to dinner. But we aren’t talking about that, are we?”