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      He’s all kinds of man. But is he a family man?

      It’s good to be home! But civilian life isn’t easy for Mark Delaney. The former surf champ copes by carving California waves and working solo as the handyman for his family’s beachfront hotel. Until Laurel Prescott, pretty owner of the new B and B—and widowed mother of three—asks for his help. One small task leads to another and another, and suddenly Mark is knee-deep in kids, responsibility...and a love he never dreamed possible.

      LYNNE MARSHALL used to worry she had a serious problem with daydreaming, and then she discovered she was supposed to write those stories down! A late bloomer, she came to fiction writing after her children were nearly grown. Now she battles the empty nest by writing romantic stories about life, love and happy endings. She’s a proud mother and grandmother who loves babies, dogs, books, music and traveling.

       Also by Lynne Marshall

      Her Perfect Proposal

       A Doctor for Keeps

       The Medic’s Homecoming

       Courting His Favorite Nurse

       Forever a Father

       Miracle for the Neurosurgeon

       A Mother for His Adopted Son

       200 Harley Street: American Surgeon in

       London Her Baby’s Secret Father

       Wedding Date with the Army Doc

      Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

      Soldier, Handyman, Family Man

      Lynne Marshall

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       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ISBN: 978-1-474-07753-8

      SOLDIER, HANDYMAN, FAMILY MAN

      © 2018 Janet Maarschalk

      Published in Great Britain 2018

      by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

      All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

      By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

      ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To our true heroes

       who risk their lives for their country,

       their cities, their neighborhoods,

       their friends and their families,

       and who often pay a personal price.

       You have my deepest respect.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Extract

       Chapter One

      The attractive brunette juggling a cardboard box and a plastic trash bag filled with who knew what needed help. Mark Delaney had first noticed her yesterday when her bobbing ponytail had proved to be very distracting. Now, seeing disaster about to happen, he sprang from the ladder, where he painted the underside of The Drumcliffe Hotel roof trim, nearly rolling an ankle. Then he jogged across the street attempting to hide the limp.

      “Need help?”

      “Oh.” She tossed him a flustered glance, the box precariously slipping from her grasp. “Yes, please.”

      He rushed in and grabbed it, surprised how light it was.

      “My favorite English tea set’s in there.” She used her head to signal the delicate nature of the contents. “Should’ve

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