A Marriage for the Marine by Liz Isaacson A Marine, a maid, and a match made in heaven. Tate Benson can't believe he's come to Nowhere, Utah, to fix up a house that hasn't been inhabited in years. But he has. Because he's retired from the Marines and looking to start a life as a police officer in small-town Brush Creek. Wren Fuller has her hands full most days running her family's company. When Tate calls and demands a maid for that morning, she decides to have the calls forwarded to her cell and go help him out. She didn't know he was moving in next door, and she's completely unprepared for his handsomeness, his kind heart, and his wounded soul. Can Tate and Wren weather a relationship when they're also next-door neighbors? 
Bent over the tub, she heard the distinct sound of boots entering the house.
“Hello?” a man called, and he sounded softer, kinder, than he had on the phone.
Wren scraped her bangs off her forehead, cursing her hair for the tenth time that morning as it stuck to the back of her neck. It wasn’t quite long enough to pull into a ponytail, and she had the fleeting thought that she’d like to shave every last hair from her head.
She hadn’t even made it to her feet when he said, “You call this cleaning?”
Wren faced him and put her hands on her hips. She felt red-faced and sweaty and her guard went right up as she drank in the boxy shape of his shoulders. The deep brown hazel color of his eyes. The way his jaw already held a day’s worth of facial hair. It matched the rich brown color of his hair, and Wren suddenly needed a very cold glass of water.
“Yes,” she managed to clip between her lips. “I call this cleaning.”
“There’s dust on the shelves in the living room.”
“Impossible,” she said. “If that’s true, it settled there in the past half-hour.”
His eyebrows went up as if he wasn’t used to being questioned. And it was clear he wasn’t. “You want me to show you?”
Frustration boiled in her, and though her momma had always taught her to clean until the customer was satisfied, she bent and extracted a duster from the box she’d brought. “I’d rather you just wiped it up.” She held the blue duster toward him, satisfied when he looked at her like she’d grown a second head and told him he would too if he touched her.
Who was this man?
Your new next door neighbor, her mind whispered, and Wren regretted her decision to quip at him to do the dusting himself. She started to withdraw her hand, but he reached out and snatched the duster from her, spinning with military-precision on his toe, and marching down the hall.
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Author Liz Isaacson USA Today bestselling author, Liz Isaacson, writes inspirational cowboy romances. Her Three Rivers Ranch Romance series has multiple #1 bestsellers in half a dozen categories. She loves all things to do with contemporary cowboys, and will write romance in Texas, Montana, and anywhere else she can find horses and mountains
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