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?”
Ghosts are real.
Well, technically speaking, maybe not. But the ones that haunt a man’s soul? Those are very real. So real, in fact, that there are times when Castiel would rather silence them forever in the worst way possible than to go on living with them haunting his every step. 
My love wand is on a strike.
As bad as that blows, pun unintended, it’s ten times worse for me. I’m a male escort, but not just any escort, I’m the escort. The one with a mile-long waiting list and a pristine reputation that’s very well-deserved.
Only now, I’m on hiatus. Because after years of pleasing women all over the city, my man missile decides to get finicky. And the only woman he wants? Someone I can never have—my best friend’s younger sister, the nerdy and awkwardly adorable Sienna.
She’s working at the agency this summer, keeping me organized, handling paperwork, and most importantly, keeping me on track to finish writing my book about sex and intimacy, which is due to my publisher in thirty days.
She thinks I hate her, that I don’t want her here. The truth is much more twisted. I get hard every time she walks into my office. Her wide blue eyes and pouty mouth drive me wild with desire, and if she stays, I’m not sure how much longer I can stay away from her.
Little Miss Overachiever says she’s here to help? Fine. I’m going to put her nerdy, curvy tush to work.
