Chapter 8
Unspoken Truths
Logan’s POV
Julia is hiding something.
I’ve known it since the second she showed up back in Seaside Bluff, but tonight confirms it. The way she hesitated when I asked about Lily earlier, the way fear flickered in her eyes when she saw that note—there’s more to this than she’s letting on.
She thinks I don’t notice the way her fingers tremble as she grips her glass, or how she keeps her body angled slightly away from me on the couch, as if putting distance between us will keep me from pushing.
It won’t.
She can lie to herself all she wants. But she won’t lie to me.
“Talk to me, Julia.”
Her head snaps up, green eyes wary. “I am talking to you.”
“You know what I mean.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “This isn’t just about Mac, is it?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
She shakes her head, putting a wall between us again. “I can’t. Not yet.”
That answer doesn’t sit right with me. But I see something flicker in her eyes—a plea. She’s holding something back, but not because she doesn’t want to tell me.
Because she’s terrified to.
And that realization hits me harder than her words ever could.
I exhale, running a hand down my face. “This isn’t over, Julia. Not even close.”
She nods, swallowing hard. “I know.”
I study her, searching for something—anything—that will give me the missing pieces of this puzzle.
She stills, her grip tightening on her whiskey glass.
Her silence is an answer in itself.
“Dammit, Julia.” I exhale sharply, frustration coiling in my chest. “You’re keeping secrets, and I need to know what I’m up against. If I’m going to protect you—really protect you—I need the truth.”
She lets out a brittle laugh, shaking her head. “And what if the truth changes everything?”
I push to my feet, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Julia. You know that.”
She stands, too, her spine stiff with defiance. “I don’t know anything anymore, Logan. Seven years ago, I thought I did, and look where that got me.”
Her words hit harder than I expect, the weight of them pressing against the raw wound between us.
I step closer, watching her expression shift. “I wouldn’t have let you leave if I’d known—”
I jerk back like she struck me. “Don’t. Don’t do that.” Her voice trembles. “You don’t get to rewrite history just because it’s convenient now.”
Anger licks at the edges of my patience. “I’m not rewriting anything. But you need to stop shutting me out, Julia. You’re in danger. Someone is watching you, threatening you. And now, you’re standing in front of me, acting like you can handle it alone.”
Her eyes flash. “I can handle it.”
“The hell you can.” I step even closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of her body, see the quick rise and fall of her chest. “You don’t have to do this alone, Julia. But you do have to tell me the truth.”
She clenches her jaw, but her bravado cracks. For a second, I see the truth behind her walls—fear, uncertainty, something deeper than just the threats she’s facing now.
Then she exhales sharply. “Fine,” she says. “You want the truth?”
I cross my arms. “That’d be nice.”
She tilts her chin up, defiance flickering in her gaze. “I left because I had no choice. And yes, I had ties to Mac. He wasn’t just some name from my past—he was a mistake that followed me longer than I wanted.
But I cut ties with him. I told you I left Mac behind. But that doesn’t mean he left me behind.”
I clench my fists.
“He was… controlling,” she admits, voice low. “At first, I thought he was just protective. But then it became something else.”
I grind my teeth. “Did he hurt you?”
She looks down. “Not physically. But he knew how to make me feel like I couldn’t leave. Like he’d always be watching.”
Rage simmers in my blood. “That son of a bitch.”
Her voice shakes, but she forces herself to meet my eyes. “And now he’s found me.”
I inhale deeply, steadying the rage burning through my veins. “You should have told me this days ago, Julia.”
She laughs bitterly. “And what? You’d have stormed in, guns blazing, thinking you could fix everything? This isn’t a warzone, Logan. You can’t just—”
I grab her wrist, my grip firm but not painful. “It is a warzone when someone’s threatening you,” I say, my voice low and dangerous.
“When someone’s sending you notes, watching you, waiting for the right moment to strike. I don’t take that lightly. And neither should you.”
Her breath hitches. For a moment, we just stand there, locked in a silent battle, her pulse racing beneath my fingertips. Her breath hitches, and for a moment, weare frozen like that, stuck in a silent tug of war.
I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, like a little bird trapped in a cage. The air between us crackles with tension, thick and heavy, charged with the weight of seven years of unanswered questions and unspoken truths.
Julia’s eyes search mine, her guard faltering for just a second. I see the fear there, buried deep, but it is there.
It pisses me off. Not because she is afraid—because she is afraid and is still trying to handle it alone.
For a long moment, neither of us speak. The only sound is the distant crash of waves against the cliffs, a constant reminder of the town’s relentless rhythm.
Julia’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, her eyes are darting away from mine, like she is searching for an escape. I reach out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her skin is warm under my fingertips.
I feel a surge of something I can’t name—longing, anger, desire, all tangled together. She steps closer, her hands reach up to touch my face. Her touch is gentle, and for a moment, I forget about the danger, forget about the threats, forget about everything except the woman standing in front of me.
Her green eyes sparkle, but not with mischief this time. They are raw, vulnerable, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.”Logan, I can’t do this again. I can’t let you in, only to”
“Only to what? Run away? Leave me wondering what the hell happened? Not this time, Julia. Not when you’re in danger.”
She flinches at my words, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, her hands tighten on my face, her thumbs brushing my scarred cheek.”You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.”
She closes her eyes, her breath comes in shallow gasps. When she opens them again, they are filled with a storm of emotions—fear, guilt, and something that looks a lot like desperation.
I kiss her, rough and demanding, pouring all the frustration, all the longing, all the goddamn *need* I’ve been holding on to for seven years.
Her lips part beneath mine, and I taste her—sweet and salty, like the ocean air. Her hands fist in my shirt, her body presses into mine, and for a moment, it is just us, just this.
But she pulls back, her breath comes in ragged gasps, her eyes wide and unfocused. “Logan, we can’t—.”
“We can. We *will*. I’m not letting you go again, Julia. Not when you’re in danger. Not when I’ve got a second chance to make things right.”
She bites her lip, her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I think she might give in. But her shoulders sag, and she shakes her head.
It’s not that simple. There’s so much you don’t know.
I tighten my grip, my thumb brushing the small tattoo of a lotus flower on her wrist, “Then tell me. Let me in, Julia. Let me help you carry the weight.”
I can’t resist and kiss her again, this one slower, deeper, a promise of what was to come. My hands move down to her hips, pulling her closer, until there is no space between us.
I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, feel her body respond to mine despite her reservations. “You’re mine. And I’m not letting anyone take you from me. Not again.”
She shivers at my words, her hands slide up my chest to wrap around my neck.
“Logan, I—”
I cut her off with a kiss, this one rougher, more demanding. I back her toward the couch, my hands roaming over her body, tracing the curves I’ve missed for so long.
She gasps as I lift her, setting her down on the edge of the couch, my body looming over hers.
“Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this, Julia.
She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Instead, she moans softly as my hands move higher, my thumbs brush the edge of her leggings.
With a swift motion, I pull her leggings down, tossing them aside like they are nothing. Her panties follow, leaving her bare and exposed before me.
I take a moment to appreciate the sight—her petite, curvy figure, the small tattoo on her wrist, the delicate silver pendant necklace that holds a locket with a photo of her daughter, Lily.
She is beautiful, and she is mine. My tongue delves into her, my mouth sucks and licks, my fingers press into her thighs to hold her open.
I am relentless, my mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
”Logan, please—” she moans, her hands tangling in his hair, her body arching off the couch. ”Not yet. I’m not done with you.” She watches, breathless, as I shed my clothes, revealing the broad, muscular frame that, she had said, had always made her weak in the knees.
My hands are large and calloused, my chest scarred but powerful, my eyes blue and filled with a hunger that mirrors her own.
I join her on the couch, pressing her back into the cushions with my body. My hands hold her wrists above her head as I lean down, my lips brush hers.”You’re mine. And you’re going to take everything I give you.Yes.”
“Yes, Logan.”
My hands move down to her hips, positioning her just right. I tease her, my erection presses against her entrance but not entering, my hands roam over her body, my lips trail kisses down her neck.
“Please. Logan, please.”
I thrust into her, filling her completely. She gasps, her nails dig into my shoulders as I begin to move, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder, my hips slapping against hers.