Angel Smits - A Family for Tyler

Family sticks together, no matter what!

Wyatt Hawkins takes care of his family. So when he discovers he has a nephew, he vows to be there for Tyler until his father returns from overseas. Too bad the smart—and beautiful—judge in their custody case is interfering with Wyatt’s intention. He has to convince Judge Emily Ivers he’s good for Tyler!

But she seems to have strong feelings about a single rancher raising a child and Wyatt can’t help but wonder why. Is it the attraction between them? Or maybe it has something to do with the sadness in her eyes. Maybe his nephew’s heart isn’t the only one that needs healing….

“Ms. Ivers, I realize you have your concerns, but don’t judge me before you know me.”

Wyatt looked away briefly before turning his intense gaze to Emily. “I’ve been taking care of Tyler just fine these past weeks.”

Wyatt’s laughter was gone now, and Emily realized she’d squandered her opportunity to see the smile she’d wondered about earlier. He’d moved into her space, and she wanted desperately to move away. The cool glass of the window at her back stopped her. She looked up and realized how tall he was. And how close.

“I’m only trying—”

“To do your job? I know.” Wyatt’s voice softened. Could he actually have moved closer? “Don’t be the judge right now. Save that for the actual courtroom. You said you’d be the caseworker. Be that now and let me show you I can do this.”

Dear Reader,

Quite frequently I’m asked about where I get my ideas for stories. Most of the time I shrug and can’t quite pinpoint the exact thing that helped form the idea. This time, however, I have an answer.

Every Thursday night you’ll find me at my local bookstore, writing at my Improvisation Writers Group. We give each other prompts and then take off writing. A CHAIR AT THE HAWKINS TABLE came from one of those prompts and a discussion with my friend Helen. She shared with us of how she and her siblings had recently gone to clean out their mother’s house. They’d each returned home with one of the chairs from the dining room set because they had always gathered there, and the chairs reminded them of all those memories.

That night, the Hawkins clan was born. They’ve filled my mind, my imagination and my heart ever since. Especially Tyler, who I have to warn you, is a heart stealer.

Oddly enough, all the brothers and sisters didn’t come to me in order, or all at once. Wyatt has proven to be the most obstinate, as if he didn’t really want me to get to know him. But Emily and her protected, soft heart were just too much for him. He had to come out to find her. I think he feels it was worth it.

I hope you enjoy their story as much as I have. And thank you for taking the time to have a seat and read their story.

Hearing from readers always makes my day. If you’re so inclined, angel@angelsmits.com is the best way to do that. I look forward to hearing from you.

Happy reading!

Angel Smits

A Family for Tyler

Angel Smits

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Angel Smits lives in Colorado with her husband, daughter and brand-new puppy. (What was she thinking?) She thought winning the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award was the highlight of her writing career, until her first Harlequin book hit the shelves. Then all bets were off. Sky’s the limit now. Her background in social work helps inspire the characters in her books while improv writing gives her the means to torture those characters. It’s a rough job, but someone’s got to do it.

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I’ve been blessed in my life to have grown up in a close family, and to have built one of my own with my husband, Ron. But there are two people who complete our home. Jennifer and Joseph, you are, without a doubt, the best kids I could ever ask for. Thanks for putting up with all that goes with having a writer for a mom—and for not thinking I’m too crazy. I love you both.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

WYATT HAWKINS PULLED his black 4x4 pickup into the familiar drive and killed the engine. The huge truck was well suited for the wide Texas plains of his ranch, but here in Austin, at Mom’s house with all these close-knit homes, it seemed out of place. He stayed in the cab and stared through the dirt-streaked windshield at the place he still considered home.

But without Mom, it would never be the same.

The faint sound of footsteps made him glance in the rearview mirror. His sister Addie headed up the walk. Her shoulder-length blond hair and flowing black skirt rippled in the breeze. She stopped at the truck door and rapped, unnecessarily, on the window. He rolled the glass down and peered into her tired, sad face.

“You ready for this?” he whispered, hoping she’d say no and let them all off the hook. Being Addie, she didn’t, of course.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said on a deep sigh.

She hesitated a moment, then kept walking to the front door as if she knew by stopping she might never get started again. Wyatt climbed out of the truck and silently followed.

She unlocked the front door and pushed the heavy wood open.

The door didn’t smack against the wall like it had when they’d barreled through as children. Nor did the hinges squeal to remind Dad it was time to oil them.

It simply opened to a dark, musty room. A house full of stuff but empty of people.

Just then, a red convertible parked across the street. Both Wyatt and Addie turned to watch their younger sister Mandy climb out, her long blond hair shining in the sun. Her sky-high heels tapped across the paved street as she headed toward them.

Right behind her, the bumper of Tara’s Jeep almost kissed the chrome of the convertible. The engine rattled a moment after she turned it off. There was no door on the side of the vehicle to slam. She simply swung her legs out and landed on sneaker-clad feet and trotted up the walk.

The shiny gray Lexus that pulled into the drive next would normally turn heads, but they were all used to Jason’s flash. Even his black suit looked polished to a glow.

Last, as always, DJ arrived on his monstrous motorcycle, gliding up to the curb and just barely stopping from parking on Mom’s pristine lawn. After removing his dark helmet, he cut the rough engine and silence returned to the quiet neighborhood.

They were all here.

No one spoke a word. Wyatt watched his brothers and sisters traipse in one by one. His family. Three of the six wore sunglasses, even as they entered the dim interior of the house.

Oddly enough, they passed the living room, the front hall and, in a long-honed habit, settled around the kitchen table. Six chairs. Six kids. No need to pull out the spare ones in the hall closet. They hadn’t used them that often anyway, since they’d seldom all been home at the same time.