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      This could be his only chance…

      Tyler started to move toward the sleeping baby, when Angelina intercepted him and kissed him.

      She instigated it, and controlled it. Taking that simple kiss and turning it into something profound.

      There was hunger in her kiss, but there was tenderness, too.

      And that tenderness was his undoing.

      All Tyler’s fine ideals and plans to walk away faded beneath the weight of that tenderness. There, over the sleeping baby, he kissed Angelina back, trying to say in that one gesture what he would never say in words.

      Dear Reader,

      The greatest tool a writer has is the question, what if? I introduced this book’s heroine, Tucker, in Unexpected Gifts, and she’s been in other stories since. In that first book, she and her friend Eli were commiserating about their problems with men and Tucker complained that she was being actively pursued by a designer suit-wearing businessman who she felt she had nothing in common with. So, I asked, what if this man, Tyler, lost everything? His job, his money, his designer suits…and most important, his good name. And what if he finds himself back in Tucker’s life? That’s how the idea for A Father’s Name was born.

      But this was a book that required a bit more assistance than usual. You see, I know nothing about cars, other than how to turn one on and how to fill it with gas, and Tucker works at a garage. And my hero lost everything because of a legal jam. The jam itself wasn’t hard for me to come up with, but getting him out of his legal problems took a bit more help than my policeman husband could give me, which is why I spent a lovely afternoon in Erie eating lunch on the bay with a judge and an assistant district attorney. With their help, we came up with a resolution that is within the realms of legal possibility, if not probability. That is one of the best things about being a writer. I get to learn a little about a lot of things, and I also get to meet and spend time with some awesome experts from various fields.

      Tucker and Tyler discover that it’s not only authors who need help…everyone does. It takes a village to raise a child and to write a book, and sometimes it takes help from friends and even judges and A.D.A.s to fall in love! I hope you enjoy their story!

      Holly Jacobs

      PS—Please visit me at www.HollyJacobs.com, or contact me at P.O. Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102.

      A Father’s Name

      Holly Jacobs

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      In 2000, Holly Jacobs sold her first book to Harlequin Enterprises. She’s since sold more than twenty-five novels to the publisher. Her romances have won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks bestseller list. In 2005, Holly won a prestigious Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. In her nonwriting life, Holly is married to a police captain, and together they have four children. Visit Holly at www.HollyJacobs.com, or you can snail-mail her at P.O. Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102.

      They say it takes a village to raise a child…

       sometimes it takes a village to write a book.

       This one required a lot of outside help.

      Thanks to John and Joe for the car help!

      Thanks to Judge Stephanie Domitrovich and

       A.D.A. Nathaniel Strasser for the legal expertise—

      any legal stretches are all mine!

      Thanks to Jess, Kate and Abbey, who gave me

       insight into how torturous pedicures can be, and

       to Jeremy Bettis Levitt, who helped me remember

       what life with a one-year-old is like!

      And finally, thank you to all my Facebook

       and eHarlequin friends who helped me

       out with T-shirt ideas.

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      EPILOGUE

      PROLOGUE

      “HOW DO YOU plead?”

      Tyler Martinez didn’t look at the judge; instead he glanced back at the spectators. Mellie was there, though she should have been home in bed. Her face was drawn and pale. She wore a white scarf that he’d brought home as a gift from his trip to Cannes a few months ago.

      He wasn’t sure why he’d noticed that, but he did. When he’d made that trip, he never realized how his life was about to change. Only a few months had gone by, but it felt like a lifetime.

      The only constant in life was change.

      He wasn’t sure where he’d read that, or why he’d thought of it other than the truth of the statement was staring him in the face. Maybe for some people change was a good thing, but not for Tyler—and certainly not these kinds of changes.

      Jason was sitting next to Mellie, anguish etched on his face. Tyler smiled in a useless attempt to reassure his best friend. He wanted Jason to believe that everything would be all right.

      Mellie took Jason’s hand and held it. Both Tyler and Jason knew that nothing would be all right again.

      Tyler wished there was more he could do, but there wasn’t.

      There wasn’t anything more anyone could do.

      So this gesture would have to be enough.

      “I don’t contest the charges, Your Honor.”

      Tyler Martinez listened as the judge sentenced him. He watched his friends as he was led from the courtroom, knowing that when he got out of jail in six months there was a very good chance that Mellie wouldn’t be waiting with Jason.

      CHAPTER ONE

      GARY JOHNSON’S PHONE number flashed as a missed call on Angelina Tucker’s cellphone and she tried to tamp down her annoyance.

      Tucker didn’t date often, but when she did, she practiced a catch-and-release program. Unfortunately, Gary Johnson didn’t want to be released and had been calling for days asking for another date.

      She’d tried being polite, then tried to joke and pretend she was one of the guys with her let’s-be-buddies pitch. Neither worked. Gary obviously wasn’t getting her not-so subtle hints. She’d have to try something more direct.

      The man was so dense it was going to have to be something big. Something like a swift kick or else a restraining order.

      Gary’s number on her caller ID had left a sour taste to what was normally her happy Monday mood. She stomped into the garage, not wanting to think about returning that phone call.

      “Hey, Lou,” she called by way of a greeting as she made a beeline for the coffee machine.

      “What’s on the schedule today?” Lou asked.

      “I’ve got to come up with some brilliant idea for the Paradisi bike.” Tucker was building a name for her custom

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