Four weeks later...
Jullian adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, rolling them up to his elbows as he stepped out of his flat. The past four weeks had been both frustrating and enlightening. He had never been one for forced rest, but between Grace’s constant check-ins and Marshall keeping him on a tight leash, he had been left with no choice but to actually take it easy.
Now, though, now that he was back and the bullet wound fully healed, his stitches were gone, and most importantly, was no longer being treated like an invalid. He had his strength back, his edge back, and, most amusingly, he had Grace exactly where he wanted her.
His phone buzzed as he climbed into his car.
Grace: I hope you’re not planning anything stupid today.
Jullian: That depends. Would you like to define ‘stupid’?
G
