Serving the Soldier - Part 4 (An Alpha Military Romance) by Helen Grey Page B

‘irreconcilable differences’ as the reason, which sounded perfectly reasonable to me, knowing Stephanie the little bit that I do.
    I wondered if she was rich like Jax, but had no way of knowing. Her attitude of entitlement indicated that she might be, but then again, there was no telling. Then I spied the pre-nup. Nope.
    Browsing through the documents, I found the final decree, listing a division of property, if division was the right word, that is. It appeared that Jax had no trouble agreeing to most of Stephanie’s stipulations, including the fact that, in another month, she would take full ownership of this house.
    I stared in amazement. He had given her the house? It must have cost millions! My mouth dropped open when I saw her demand for spousal support for the term of three years. I couldn’t earn that in ten years’ time. Unbidden jealousy burned inside me.
    Then again, I suppose someone as rich as Jax could easily buy another house and pay such outrageous alimony. Even so, it irked me, but I couldn't quite figure out why. I had no idea what their marriage had been like. That Jax was difficult and stubborn was an understatement. I knew what it was like to grow up around the military. My own father had been gone for months at a time. Deployments were hard on families, and I could imagine that a Special Forces deployment, or two or three —or more—wouldn’t be any cake walk, either. Maybe Stephanie just hadn't been able to handle the worry.
    I made a face. While I didn't know Stephanie and I could very well be pigeonholing her into something that she wasn't. I had a feeling that Stephanie was only worried about Stephanie. The fact that she had taken off his bandage "just to look" had given me an insight into her personality. What Stephanie wanted, Stephanie got. Damned the consequences.
    I wondered what she was doing in Seattle, and whether she had been living there since their official separation, or whether she had moved away while Jax had been on his last deployment. I had to wonder why she wouldn't have stayed here, on Hilton Head, in this house.
    Maybe he had kicked her out. Perhaps she had family in Seattle, or a boyfriend.
    Who knew?
    I shrugged, deciding that I didn't care. Really, I didn't. At least that's what I kept telling myself.
    I put the stack of papers on the floor and then tried another cabinet door. I saw lock mechanisms on the doors that required keys, but when I tried the next cabinet, it opened easily. I decided that there was nothing top-secret in the cupboards and returned to snooping.
    I told myself to stop it, but my hands ignored my orders. In the second cabinet, I found a shoebox. It sat atop a stack of papers which looked a lot like bills or credit card statements. I carefully took the shoebox out of the cabinet and then swore when I noticed that the outside was coated with dust. Shit. I was going to leave fingerprints.
    The only way around that would be to dust everything in the cabinet and hope that Jax didn't notice, if and when he decided to open it, that is. Maybe he wouldn't open it until he had to move out, and by that time more dust will have accumulated.
    My hesitance of leaving evidence of my snooping was overridden once again by my curiosity. I placed the cardboard shoebox on the floor and lifted the lid by the edges.
    My eyes widened in surprise. Military ribbons and medals. Two purple hearts? I picked through them, and due to my own familiarity with a number of Army decorations, noticed overseas service ribbons, a Bronze Star, and numerous meritorious service awards. I nudged several aside and spied three or four sharpshooter badges, along with a number of decorations that I didn't recognize offhand.
    Just the sight of them brought me a surge of pride in Jax. I could just imagine him in his combat fatigues, face painted with camouflage, sneaking up on an enemy encampment with his friends and buddies right beside him every step of the way. In fact, just the thought made