“That’s horrible!” she gasped, coming closer, leaning against the worktable nearest to him. “Do you know who he is?” she asked, thinking of Frankie and her request to introduce Lincoln to his father.
“Yeah. She told me his name.” He sighed, toying with the screwdriver. “Edward Meyers. He’s some sort of shipping guy.”
Kinsley recognized the name, maybe from a news article or perhaps the man had attended some society function.
She eyed him carefully, trying to understand Lincoln’s strange mood. “What did you do when you realized who he was?”
Those big, broad, amazing shoulders shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. The man didn’t want to know me growing up. Hell, he wanted to get rid of me. So I don’t want to have anything to do with the man now.”
Kinsley bit her lip, thinking back to the conversation with Frankie.
Lincoln caught the look in her eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”
Kinsley cringed. “I might have done something really stupid, Linc,” she admitted grimly.
His eyes narrowed and his whole body became very still. “Did you talk about what I’m doing here?” he asked, his voice low and almost frightening.
Kinsley gasped, immediately shaking her head. “No! Absolutely not! Never!”
He seemed to relax a little, his hands braced against the wooden workbench. “Okay, so what did you do?”
She licked her dry lips, shifting nervously. “A private investigator contacted me. She knew I worked for you and….”
The tension was back in his shoulders. “Did she ask you what I did here?”
Kinsley rolled her eyes. “No!” she huffed with impatience. “I understand the need for secrecy here. And besides, I don’t really know what you’re doing here. So there’s no way I could tell anyone.” She looked over at the other worktables. “For all I know, you’re putting screws and lug nuts into odd shapes and calling it a project. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to result in anything.”
He laughed, leaning against the table, but his eyes were still alert. “Okay, so what did this private investigator say?”
“She said your father is looking for you and wants to meet with you. She’s not even sure if he’s your father. She asked me if you would be willing to submit a DNA sample.”
“No!” he replied forcefully, shaking his head with vehemence. “Not a chance.”
“But…what if Edward Meyers really is your father?”
Lincoln tossed the screwdriver onto the table. “I don’t care if he is my father. I don’t want to get to know him.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Kinsley, he told my mother to abort me. He kicked her onto the street. Thankfully, she never quit her job, so when he kicked her out, she was still able to support us. But the guy is an absolute ass and I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”
She let his words hang in the air for a brief moment. But Kinsley was nothing if not stubborn. “What if he regrets pushing you away?”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kinsley, he didn’t push me away. He ordered my mother to get rid of me. He gave her money to accomplish that task and then he brushed her aside, as if she were yesterday’s trash.”
She visibly cringed, but soldiered on. “Okay, that sounds really bad, but….”
He shook his head, putting a hand up in the air, stopping whatever argument she might offer next. “No, Kinsley. I know that you’re one of those softhearted people who think that the world should all sing a happy song together. But that’s simply not going to happen between me and my father.”
She lifted her hands in the air, pleading with him. “You don’t even know what he wants. Maybe he has a lot of money he wants to give you.”
He laughed harshly. “Kinsley, look around. Do I look like I’m hurting for money?”
She thought about his beautiful house perched high up on the hill. She thought of the stunning views that he could see from just about every angle of his house. “No. No, you definitely are not hurting for money. But….”
“No,” interrupted, slicing his hand through the air. “I’m sorry. But there’s nothing Edward Meyers can say or do to make up for decades of neglect.”
“What if he didn’t know that you existed?” she asked, thinking it was a brilliant argument.
Lincoln stared back at her, his dragon eyes clearly conveying that he didn’t believe that for a moment. “He knew. My mother told him. In fact, I found several letters she’d tried to mail him over the years. They were all returned, unopened.”
Okay, that was bad. Kinsley couldn’t come up with any other arguments. “Right,” she sighed, defeated for the moment. “Fine. I’ll let Frankie know that you’re not interested in anything your father has to say.”
“Good. And tell this Frankie guy not to even tell my father where I live. I don’t want him showing up on my doorstep.”
“That’s a good point,” she replied with a grin. “I’ll pass on the information.”
He smiled back at her, still shaking his head. “You do that.” He inhaled deeply, rubbing his hands together. “Just so you know, we’re not working today.”
She blinked up at him, startled by the abrupt change in his demeanor. “We’re not?”
“Nope. It’s cloudy, but it’s always cloudy here. Seattle isn’t known for sunny days.”
“True.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what are you going to do?”
“You,” he emphasized with a mischievous glint to those dragon eyes, “are going to learn to
