Page 4 of Beyond Question

“Laugh it up, chuckles,” he says, then he leans over, placing his hand on my lower back as he whispers, “You might be the undefeated champion ofthisgame, but I’m beating you in the next one.”

It’s a struggle to ignore the way the heat from his palm spreads through my shirt to warm my skin, but I focus on the threat instead, because that’s so much easier than dissecting why his hand on my back is such an innocent thing, though it feels anything but. “You’re pretty confident,basket, blanket, duckguy.”

His eyes dance with mischief and I have to force myself to look away. As I return my attention to Rylan, checking off items on my list,basket blanket duckguy’s hand lingers on my back slightly longer than necessary, and I can barely focus on anything but that point of connection.

I’ve been to multiple events that were also attended by Reed Publishing’s bigwigs, so I’ve been aware of Travis for a handful of years now. Though he’s indisputably handsome, I tend to stay away from the type of men who wear custom-tailored suits and look like they could melt a woman’s panties right off her body with just the flash of a cocksure smile. But when I caught him pouting about having to play this game, something in me softened and I found myself stepping closer.

Now, he’s beside me, and even though he’s dropped his hand from my back, I can still recall the heat of his touch, the shape of his palm, with perfect clarity.

“How many of you got all of the twenty-three items?” Rylan calls out.

No one says anything and Travis snorts beside me, crossing his arms over his chest smugly. “I thought this was your game.”

“Hush.”

“Who has twenty-two items?” Rylan asks, once again met with silence.

“Wow,” Travis whispers.

I roll my eyes and ignore him.

“Twenty-oneitems?”

I glance at Travis pointedly, then hold up my card. “Twenty-one.”

When no one else responds, Rylan reviews the items on my paper, then hands me a gift bag. I turn toward Travis with a wide grin, the bag dangling off the end of my finger.

His eyes narrow as he asks, “Which ones did you miss?”

“Guess.”

His teeth tug at his bottom lip as he considers. “If it’s notbasket, blanket, or duck,I have no idea what the rest of that stuff is even called.”

“Well, it wasn’t the rubber ducky,” I say, then I glance at my wine glass and nod toward the bar. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“I’ll join you. Could use another one myself.”

There shouldn’t be a flutter of excitement in my belly at the prospect of walking across the back lawn to the bar beside Travis, but I can’t control my body’s reaction to him.

“Basket and blanket,” I murmur.

“Sorry?” He steps closer, our arms brushing as we walk. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

I huff, but say the words louder even though I know he heard me the first time. He just wants to gloat. “Basket and blanket.”

Travis chuckles, then side-eyes me. “The easiest ones.” Shaking his head, hetsksas he bumps me with his shoulder. “I expected more from you, Paige.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, chuckles,” I say, throwing his earlier words back at him. “Just means we should have teamed up instead. Could have swept the playing field.”

“Paige, if you want to spend more time with me, all you have to do is say so.”

My mouth gapes but then we reach the bar, and Travis engages the bartender before I can think of a response.

“A refill of rosé, please.” He pauses to look at me for confirmation, so I nod, then he holds up his empty glass. “And another one of these.” He glances at me, then points to the framed menu atop the bar. “I’m not saying that.”

I scan the drink names and chuckle. “What’s wrong, you don’t want to order aPapa’s Poisonor aMerry Mamatini?”

Travis scowls. “I don’t know why they did that. It’s just an Old Fashioned, and hers is a Cosmo. Why not say that?”

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