chapter 11

Damon turned his truck onto the dirt road that traversed the low incline to his part of the woods. There was nothing but his cabin at the end, hidden among the trees. It was a quiet, serene place. Perfect for hunting on all fours, if he ever felt the need. It also wasn't too far from some good fishing spots. But this peaceful place also a great reminder of his long time loneliness, the absence of his mate. His brain maybe rejected the idea of mate but in his depth of heart he never did.

As he came in sight of his cabin, he noticed Isabella's truck parked in front. She sat on the log bench on his front porch, looking at the ground until she heard his truck approaching. She wore a serious, introspective expression. He thought he detected nervousness.

The melancholy look worried him, but Damon put on his usual, affable smile as he hopped out of his vehicle. "Bells? What are you doing all the way out here?"

She didn't say anything at first, just looked at him. "Just need to talk. Is it okay that I'm here?" she asked.

"Of course. You're always welcome. You know that." It was odd that she would come out all this way by herself — she had only visited before with her family — but he sensed something was deeply wrong. He nodded toward the door. "Hope you weren't waiting long. You could have gone inside, helped yourself to a drink or something ."

Isabella followed him in. "It's okay. It's kind of nice out today." She felt her breathing pickup a little. They were alone, just the two of them, in a remote cabin. She was suddenly aware of his intense masculinity... his height, the size of his muscles, the faint, musky scent of his sweat. She was, at once, both drawn to him and terrified. No matter his reaction, it would change their relationship forever. Was she really going through with this?

The interior of the cabin matched the occupant: rough around the edges, in need of daily care, but comforting. The whole place smelled pleasantly of the cedar used for the walls. It had just two rooms, a living area and a bedroom. The kitchen was just a single counter and a sink with a bucket underneath. Nearby, open shelves served as a pantry. There was no toilet or bathroom inside. Any washing up had to be done at the sink, and for everything else, there was an outhouse.

Damon reached into an electric cooler and pulled out a beer for himself. For her, he held out a can of soda.

She shook her head, murmuring a 'thanks'. He put it back.

Damon popped off the cap to his beer, took a long drink, and set it aside. "How's the job hunt? Anything?"

Bella shook her head again. "Nothing yet. I'm still volunteering at the parks. They'll let me know if something opens up."

"That's good! Glad you're getting out of the house."

Bella just nodded. She studied the pattern stamped into her battered cowboy boots. She took a while to work up the courage to say something, but Damon didn't interrupt. He knew she had something important on her mind and he let her find her voice on her own.

"Damon... do you think I'm pretty?"

His forehead wrinkled in concern. "Of course, Bells. You're a gorgeous girl." He shook his head in confusion. "But Why are you asking?"

"That's how parents reassure their children. I really need to know, Damon. Do you think I'm attractive?"

She couldn't hide the worry in the way she asked it. What if he didn't like her? Her whole plan would fall apart. She looked up at him without moving her head. Her blue-green eyes gazed nervously back at him through her lowered lashes.

"Bella,Why?Did something happened? "

Damon was not oblivious to the vulnerable sensuality hinted at in her look. He noticed that she was actually wearing a little bit of makeup today, which was unusual. She truly was beautiful. She had a pert little nose under a scattering of freckles; a small, rose petal pink mouth; and those large, lovely blue-green eyes And her body.

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