Free Serving the Soldier - Part 3 (An Alpha Military Romance) by Helen Grey Page A

hallway, glancing into his office as I went. I wasn’t being nosy. After all, the door stood half open. Empty. Needless to say, I wouldn’t be venturing into that room again anytime soon. Not if he could smell me, which I still found rather alarming.
    I headed downstairs and made my way to the kitchen. I knew without even asking that everything was still locked up tight; all the windows shut, the doors locked and double bolted. He’d even drawn the curtains, giving the downstairs a cave-like atmosphere. Actually, it was rather nice, and would probably leave the house feeling cooler anyway.
    I got a pot of coffee going, and without making too much racket, retrieved a skillet from the cupboard next to the stove. I was thinking to make some scrambled eggs, bacon, and some toast. In a matter of minutes, the smell of coffee and sizzling bacon filled the kitchen with homey and comforting memories of my childhood. Nothing like the smell of bacon to remind someone of home.
    I reached into the cupboard overhead and pulled out two plates.
    “Smells good.”
    The sudden sound of the male voice startled me so badly that I jerked around in surprise. The plates flew from my hand as I spun, a scream tearing from my lips. The plates shattered on the hard floor as I stared at Jax, who was staring down at the plates splintering into dozens of pieces in disbelief. Then our eyes met, and I nearly sank to the floor in relief as my heart continued to hammer in my chest.
    As usual, he stood there, totally naked. He didn’t look any different than he had the last time I saw him, but for some reason, his chest seemed broader, his biceps larger, his abs tighter. His beautiful cock lay flaccid in its dark nest of curls. I tried to act as if his nudity didn’t affect me in the least. The tingling sensation in my pants defied my brain and got my pulse to thrumming again.
    “Oh! I’m so sorry!” I gasped, horrified.
    “Sorry about that,” he said. “Still feeling a little jumpy, are you?”
    I said nothing else, just crouched down and began to pick up the pieces.
    “There’s a broom and dustpan just inside the doorway in the garage,” he suggested, standing in the doorway in his bare feet.
    “Don’t come in here,” I warned. Heading toward the garage, I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I’m afraid there’s probably bits and pieces of ceramic all over the place. Give me a few minutes, okay?”
    I stopped halfway to the garage door, turned around, and stepped back to the stove. I turned off the burners underneath the bacon and the scrambled eggs. I didn’t look to see if he had followed my instructions, but I carefully avoided pieces of ceramics dotting the floor, stepped toward the garage, reaching for the doorknob.
    “Wait,” he said. “I have to disarm the alarm.”
    The alarm? I hadn’t even noticed it before. He walked carefully around the edges of the light oak hardwood floor close to the counters, eyeing the flooring carefully as he made his way barefoot to the alarm panel. I didn’t want to stare, so I glanced away as he keyed in the code. I heard the resulting beep.
    “Okay,” he said.
    I turned the knob and opened the door leading into the garage. It was dark and gloomy and I couldn’t see anything.
    “Hanging on the wall just to the left of the door.”
    I reached my hand out and felt the broom, and then the dustpan. Retrieving them from their hooks, I carried them into the kitchen. He immediately closed the garage door after me and reset the alarm. I glanced at him as I began to sweep up the shards.
    “You think those men are still after us?” I asked, my heart squeezing in fear again.
    He shook his head. “Not today anyway, but there’s no sense in taking chances.”
    I quickly swept up the shattered pieces of ceramic plates, feeling bad that I had ruined the set. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. After a few minutes, I had successfully gathered all the pieces, or at least the larger ones, into