Logan's eyes darkened.
Jean felt the heat radiating off him, not from desire… but from the storm brewing inside. His fists clenched by his sides, knuckles turning white.
She saw it all.
The way his gaze flickered between her trembling body and Tyler's smug demeanor.
"You followed her here?" Logan growled. His voice was low. Dangerous.
Tyler didn't flinch.
"Followed? Please. This is a public venue. And your wife seemed happy enough to talk." He looked at Jean then, his eyes heavy with feigned softness. "Weren't you, Jean?"
Jean shook her head. "Stop twisting…"
"Twisting?" Tyler interrupted smoothly. "I'm just stating facts. We have… history. You think you know everything about her, Logan? About what she's capable of?"
Logan took a threatening step forward.
But Tyler raised both palms, mock surrender in his posture.
"Easy, husband. I'm not here to fight. I'm just saying… you might want to ask her a few questions before deciding how much of her to protect."
