Free Serving the Soldier - Part 1 (An Alpha Military Romance) by Helen Grey

Chapter 1
    “Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” I said into the phone, feeling my forehead creasing into a frown. I had been hoping to take a short vacation, but it just never seemed to turn out right. Either I had the money but a full schedule, or I had some downtime but no money. I could never seem to find the perfect balance.
    I loved being a home health care nurse, and often traveled to neighboring counties, even neighboring states on occasion. But to be honest, I had lately begun to wish I had just stayed at the hospital in Augusta. Steady hours, steady paycheck, knowing what was expected of me day in and day out. But no, I’d wanted to be brave and daring, and venture beyond my hometown and nearby Fort Gordon military reservation where my father was stationed. And where, by the way, he expected me to stay.
    Dammit, I was twenty-eight years old. I needed to break away from the familiarity, the constancy, and the security that my parents offered at home and make an attempt to explore and experience life on my own.
    Sure, Charleston wasn’t that far away from Augusta, barely three hours if you took the interstate through Columbia, even less if you drove a more direct route on one of the state highways. Still, in the last six months, I had rather enjoyed my independence. I’d found a small, cheap studio apartment north of downtown with easy access to the Savanna Highway, which was perfect since most of my clients were scattered along the banks of Charleston Harbor and surrounding neighborhoods.
    “Give me the details,” I said to Nancy, my supervisor. I reached for the pad of paper and pen on the far side of the kitchen counter as I sat sipping my coffee, ready to take notes. I was a sap, plain and simple. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not naïve, at least I didn’t think so, but it was so hard for me to say no — to anything or anybody. No, I was a people pleaser, which often left me little time for myself or my own pursuits.
    Yeah right… as if I had my own pursuits.
    I didn’t have a steady boyfriend, or any hope of finding one. In my experience, most guys are little boys. I had standards and knew exactly how I wanted to be treated. In the past year, I had gone through three so-called boyfriends, one in Augusta that I had finally broken up with because, well, he turned out to be a jerk who had given me one excuse after another as to why he couldn’t find a job. More like didn’t want to find a job. As in he expected me to do all the work while he stayed at the apartment he shared with a roommate and played video games and drank beer.
    The other two? Not as bad as the first, but nothing to write home about. I sighed. All water under the bridge, wasn’t it? None of those three guys had really captured what it was I was looking for in a guy, and I suppose that was my fault because I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for.
    I suppose my father’s work ethic had instilled in me the desire to support myself, work hard, and find some stability in life. Being a military brat, I had grown up within a strict but loving household where old-fashioned values still guided my parents in their decisions. I didn’t think of myself as old-fashioned, but I suppose I did have some preconceived notions of what I wanted in a husband.
    Someday.
    Not today, not tomorrow, but someday. Someday, I wanted to find a guy who was passionate for his work, and of course, one who would love me with the same passion. Not cloying or bossy or jealous, but one who made time for me, listened to me, supported me—
    “Are you listening?”
    “Sorry, Nancy” I said, shaking myself out of my reverie. “Could you repeat that please?”
    Nancy sighed the deep sigh of one heavily put upon. “You’ll be providing live-in care services for a man, but Angie, he’s quite a bit younger than you’re used to.”
    “How young?” I asked with piqued interest. Most of the gentleman I took care of were in their seventies or older. One of my clients — a