to soothe his soul.
Over the last week, he’d cleaned it up again, and that’s now where he carried Bobbi.
The table and chairs probably had seemed much bigger to him when he was a kid, but he could recall sitting there in the sunlight while making model planes as a teenager, so they’d likely hold him as an adult.
Carefully, he set Bobbi down in one of the chairs and stepped back. She hadn’t said a word on their “walk” and was now looking around the attic curiously.
He tried to see it through her eyes. There wasn’t air conditioning up here, but while the air was a little stale, it wasn’t so warm as to be uncomfortable. There were boxes stacked along the walls—one entire wall was devoted to Christmas decorations—but there was very little dust. Griselda still came up periodically to clean, even the heirloom furniture and the creepy rocking horse Deck’s great-great grandfather had made.
Would his own kids one day play up here?
He hoped to build a house up on the ridge for his family—Bobbi and CJ and any other children God granted them—but Pops would likely insist they come to the main house to play often.
The reminder of children—his and Bobbi’s children—dragged his attention back to her. She’d gripped her hands in her lap and was staring up at him.
He tried to smile.
She lifted a brow. “I like spending time with you, Decker, but it’s a little creepy to drag me up into the attic.”
This time, his smile was genuine, and he moved to sit across from her at the table. In order to see her properly, he had to move the big wrapped gift out of the way, but he’d get to that later.
“This was…well, I guess you could say this was my sanctuary when we were growing up. It’s a big house, but with six growing boys, there was never enough privacy.” He nodded to the bin of old art supplies under the table to her left. “Grams used to let me hide out up here for hours at a time, and she’d buy me whatever craft supplies I asked for. I was sitting in this seat right here when I tried my first leather-punching kit and fell in love with it.”
Smiling, she shifted forward, so her arms were braced on the table. “That’s how it happened, huh?”
“Yeah. There was just something so satisfying about working with leather, and I got better and better with it, and now…”
His gaze darted to the gift beside them. He’d spent the last two weeks working on something besides saddles.
“Well, I have to say, it’s a weird place for a walk, but I’m glad you showed it to me.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “I know how much your Grams meant to you, and I’m glad I got to see so much evidence of her love for you.”
Since she’d been the one to make the move, he latched onto her hand with both of his, desperate to keep her here with him.
Always.
“Bobbi Rae, I dragged you up here, because I have something I want to tell—ask—you.”
“Well, you carried me more than dragged me, but go ahead.”
He swallowed. “The last time I asked you to marry me, you broke your leg trying to get away from me.”
She winced, then said, “I told you that was just because I was surprised, is all. But…what do you mean by ‘the last time’ you asked me?”
Was it his imagination, or did she look almost…hopeful?
Taking a deep breath, Decker said a little prayer in his mind he wasn’t about to make a big mistake. “Because…I’m going to ask you again.”
“To marry you?” she whispered, her light brown eyes wide.
Mutely, he nodded.
“Now?”
He nodded again.
She blew out a breath. “Before you do, I have to tell you something,” she whispered, dropping her eyes to their joined hands.
“I’d like that. I’d like it even more if it’s about CJ’s father, and what he did to make you so skittish around me.”
Her gaze slammed back into his, and he offered her a little shrug of apology.
“I figured there was something in your past that made you freak out, Bobbi Rae. I’ve never met another woman I love as much as you, and I can’t imagine I ever will. What you and I have—” He shook his head, looking for a way to explain it. “I felt a connection with you—and with CJ—from the moment I set eyes on both of you. I knew I couldn’t let