Page 61 of Shadow Hunter

“Shortcake, you’ve seen a lot more of me than this.”

She bit her lower lip and stared at the floor again. “I know.”

As he pulled on his shirt, he eyed the beautiful woman in front of him. “Do I…look anything like you imagined?”

Her head shot up, and she gaped. “What do you mean?”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Come on, Tiff. You wrote to me for years. You’re telling me you never once wondered what I looked like?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I…guess I imagined a few times.”

“And…?” He wasn’t certain why he was eager to know, but some deep-seated part of him wanted to. Wanted to be certain she wasn’t disappointed thathewas B.

She shook her head, flustered. “I don’t know. I guess I imagined you shorter and with more hair. But I was…wrong in a good way.”

He would chop off part of his legs and grow his hair longer if it pleased her.

Anything if it’d make her happy.

That was the sort of thing he used to say in his letters. As far back as he could remember, he’d always been…reserved when it came to his relationships. Distant, even. But over time, when he’d written to Tiffany, he’d begun to confess things to her, to speak to her in ways he’d never spoken to anyone else, in ways he now knew he couldn’t speak to her in person, beyond their playful banter, of course.

At least, if his reluctance to tell her he loved her was any indication.

No, not reluctance. That wasn’t the right word. He just…

Wanted to find the perfect moment.

Wanted to be certain he deserved her.

“What about you?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “Am I anything like you imagined?” He smiled a little. In his head, he told her she was more gorgeous than he could possibly have imagined, that the soft curls of her hair and the honey color of her eyes rivaled the divine, that every time she smiled it did things to him. Made him know joy.

“Well?” she prompted when he stayed silent for a beat.

“Better,” he said. “So much better. Though Mark had showed me a picture from a few years back.”

Tiffany looked as if she were about to be hit by an oncoming train. “No. You don’t mean the one he carried in his wallet, do you? The one where I’m wearing the—”

“Grumpy Bear Care Bear T-shirt,” he finished.

She groaned, blushing instantly. “If Mark were here, I’d smack him upside the head for showing you that. What an awful photo.”

He chuckled. “You always look beautiful to me, Shortcake.”

Her gaze shot toward his, the weight of everything they’d both left unsaid heavy between them.

“I guess with Caius dead that means….” She lowered his gaze at last, and something flickered behind her amber irises, something he couldn’t identify. But she didn’t need to say it for him to understand.

I guess this is goodbye.

Damon cleared his throat, trying to remember exactly why they were doing this.

Her safety and her happiness, that was why.

And with Caius dead, would she even want the kind of life he had to offer her? He couldn’t be certain.

“Let’s get you home, Shortcake.”

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