and took her hand in his.
“Thank you for letting me help you, Bobbi Rae. Thank you for letting me be here with you. I am so, so sorry for what happened yesterday.”
She stared down at their fingers twined together and resting on his broad thigh. She remembered the way it had felt to wrap her arms around his neck, to press her lips against his. Despite the broken leg, it had been worth it.
“I’m not,” she whispered.
He lifted her fingers to his lips and brushed a kiss over their tips, sending delicious shivers through her.
CJ chose that inopportune—or maybe very opportune—moment to burst in from the kitchen. “The pizza is still warm! Want a slice, Mama?”
Bobbi jerked, but didn’t pull her hand from his. Glancing at the clock, she shook her head.
“That’s really sweet, baby, but I think I’ll wait another hour so I can take my pills with it.”
Blowing out a breath, as if she were exhausted—and maybe she was—CJ threw herself down on the opposite couch. It was interesting she didn’t look twice at the fact her mother was holding hands with a man she’d only just met.
CJ sees he’s a good man. Why can’t you?
Great.
Bobbi blew out a breath and scrubbed her free hand over her face.
Now she was being lectured by her subconscious, which was ganging up on her with her dead mama and a six-year-old?
I’m only being the voice of reason.
Shut up. You’re crazy.
I’m not the one arguing with herself.
As long as I win.
I hope you lose.
This was ridiculous.
“Hey, Cinderella Jewell, wanna play a game?”
CJ sat up at Decker’s offer. He was digging around in the pocket of his jeans, careful not to let Bobbi go or bump her leg.
Pulling out his keys, he held them out to the little girl. “I went up into the attic of the big house today and dug out some of our old games. Why don’t you go out to my truck—you’re big enough to open the passenger door, right?—and bring in whichever one you want to play?”
Her daughter had already snatched the keys out of his hand. “And you’ll play with me?”
He didn’t even glance at Bobbi when he nodded. “We’ll all play. It’s not like your mama can run away, can she?”
Giggling, CJ ran for the front door.
“You’re really going to play with us?” Bobbi asked skeptically.
“As long as it’s not Monopoly. I hate that one, so I conveniently left it up in the attic.”
“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said softly.
He lifted her fingers to his lips again and held her gaze. “Yes I did, Bobbi Rae.”
Was she leaning toward him? Did she want to stop?
“You don’t have to feel guilty, Decker,” she whispered. “It was my fault I fell.”
“I startled you.” He shifted so they were facing one another. “I want you to know I’m not going to apologize for my proposal.”
The way he echoed her declaration from yesterday had her lips tugging upward sheepishly.
“I’m not sorry I asked you to marry me, Bobbi Rae,” he murmured, his green eyes caressing her features, “and I plan on doing it again. But I am sorry I startled you into hurting yourself.”
And before she could think of what to say in response—how to respond to such a sweet, wonderful, terrifying promise such as that—he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.
It wasn’t the passionate kiss from yesterday, but he tasted of mint and aftershave and leather, and everything wonderful that was Decker Cauldron.
The kiss was over far too quickly, because CJ burst back through the front door.
“Look at this Candy Land, Mama! It’s so funny looking!”
She was staring down at the box in her hands, so she didn’t notice her mother hurrying to pull away from Decker, push herself upright, and pretend nothing had happened.
The last, she found, was quite hard for her to manage.
“That’s because it’s mine from when I was a kid,” Decker reminded the girl with a smile.
“Is it an antique then?”
He grinned. “Ha-ha, Cinderella. Get your butt over here and set it up on the coffee table, while I get your mama some water.”
As the little girl began to pull out the vintage—not antique—pieces and collect the cards with squares of color, Decker stood. He brushed one more kiss across Bobbi’s knuckles, and she felt a little twinge of loss when he walked into the kitchen.
She could hear him banging around, looking for a cup, but didn’t bother calling out instructions. Truth be told, she kinda liked having