Lincoln_The Manning Dragons_Erotic Paranormal Dragon Shifter Romance

by Kathi S. Barton

  “I lived in a rental house for most of my time out west. I hated it—being out west, not the house. But the landlord is retiring and has sold my house. Lucky for me he’s a nice guy, and put all my things in storage.” Lincoln said that was nice. “Yes. Are you nice, Lincoln? I’m not. I don’t like people, and I’m hard on men. I want you to know that right up front. I’m not a pushover, and I don’t jump when someone tells me to. Unless it’s to keep me safe. I’m not that stubborn or stupid.”

  “I’m not good with people, but I like them. Mostly I avoid them because I’m never sure what to say when they ask a question.” She nodded, and he turned to look at her. “I want you to like the house I bought. It’s not necessary—I can sell it as it sits for more than I paid for it.”

  “I’m sure that it’ll be fine.” She laughed. “I never thought I’d be this calm about finding someone that was going to take over my life.”

  “I won’t.” She frowned and asked what he meant. “I won’t take over your life. I can promise you that. I would like to be a part of it, in decisions you might make that would affect us both, but I will never tell you what to do nor how you should do it. And I’ll do the same for you, not make any decisions that might alter how we do things.”

  “Ginger was hurt by a man. Twice as a matter of fact. She was married to Mattie’s father for about a year and a half, and I guess the entire time he would beat her almost daily. She didn’t try to get away from him. I think that was due to having Mattie and her being so young. She wanted it to make it work. He had money, you see, and Ginger didn’t.” He said he had money as well. “I know. Ginger told me that all of you have a great deal. But about the men in her life. Our parents were about as close as a jackal and a mouse to us. They were cold, and we figured out they didn’t want us in their lives. I think that’s why I’m so mean now. But one night, when we were sixteen, I’d had enough and packed us both up and we went to live with our Aunt Bev. She’s a trip. Anyway, without her, I’m thinking that we might not have survived living on the streets. And that is why neither of us have been with another man since then that’s been good to us. Walton, he didn’t come into my sister’s life, he sort of barged his way in and took over. I’m glad that he’s no longer a threat to her.”

  “I will never harm you if I can help it. I have no desire to order you around. I want—no, that’s not right. I need to make you happy, and I will try my very best to do so.” She looked at the painting again. “And if you could paint me something like the train in the front, I’ll be your slave for the rest of my life.”

  Her laughter made him smile. It might not be so bad having a mate that was sort of mean if she was like this. But he knew it wasn’t something that he should count on. She had a temper, and Lincoln thought he might enjoy seeing it burn. So long as it wasn’t aimed at him.

  ~~~

  Walton looked up when he realized someone was with him. He’d seen people in and out of the area he was in all day. No one had come to visit, and for that he was pissed. He’d fucked up last night and was told his privileges were taken away. So, if anyone did come, they’d be refused. Though he had no idea who would want to see him. Ginger sure wouldn’t.

  What was wrong with that woman that she had to lie to him? He’d only wanted a son from her. A pretty woman like her, she should have been thrilled that a man like him would set his sights on her. He wasn’t stupid—Walton had an education. He even had some cash stashed away he could have used. Or he could just go and take it from his father—now there was a person who had money. But Ginger and her kid were putting a drain on him, and he’d had enough. Especially after thinking he was going to have a daughter and not a son like he wanted. Why couldn’t she just have had a boy? Then things would have been fine with them.

  “Are you Walton George Conrad?” He said that he was but looked around when his middle name was put out there. “Are you? I’m looking for Walton George Conrad.”

  “Do you think you could forget my middle name, buddy? I hate it as much as I hate being in here.” He stood and asked him what he wanted. “You’re not a visitor, that much I can see.”

  “Here you go.” He took the blue envelope—really, he’d had no choice—and the guy asked him to sign for it. “You don’t have to. It’s all right here on the camera on my chest, as well as the one they have hanging out here, that you were served.”

  “Served? As in someone is trying to sue me? Who would do that?” He said that he didn’t know, he’d have to read it. “Damn it all to hell and back. This had better not be my landlord again. I’ll kick his ass.”

  It wasn’t him, but Ginger suing him for child support. For his own kid. The paperwork even said how much he had stashed, as well as the value of the house they’d lived in. He couldn’t understand how she’d know that unless….

  “She went snooping around my things. How many times did I tell her to stay out of my boxes?” Walton sat on his bed and looked over the paperwork. “Oh no. Oh hell no, she is not hoping I’ll pay for her daughter too? I’m not paying for that thief at all. I’d have a dragon but for her skinny little ass. All she had to do was leave my things alone, and that included my dragon. Then what does she do? She takes it out of the barn and steals it.”

  By the time dinner was served—another red-letter day in the meals this place handed out—he was seething mad at what she wanted from him. Walton was going to kill her as soon as he was free, and that kid too. And he would as soon as his attorney was aware of a few things. Like he’d fathered a son, not a daughter. And that she was trying to make it so he’d never see the kid. It was his, wasn’t it?

  There couldn’t be any other way it would be someone else’s. He’d fucked her every day until she got pregnant. He’d only let her go from the chain when he had to take her to the doctor, and even then, he’d made sure that she knew if she ran or told anyone, he’d kill the brat of hers.

  Then she’d gone to the doctor and had them lie to him too. Telling him that she was carrying another girl and wasn’t he so happy. Another little precious girl to raise.

  “No, I was not. A little girl isn’t at all what I wanted.” He wasn’t sure why that was so important, but that’s what his father had always told him. Have a son, make sure there is someone to carry on the Conrad name. Like it was something to be proud of.

  He supposed to his father it was. A rich fuck that had it all in a nice neat row. And he was tight too. Only gave Walton cash when he begged for it or made promises he wasn’t going to keep. Like not coming home again. It was his fucking house too, wasn’t it? His father had a screwed-up way of thinking when it came to him.

  Now he was in jail for trying to kill her. If that other bitch had stayed out of his way, then he’d have no one but himself again. Women were the ruination of the world, his father used to say, and he was beginning to see that he might have been correct. They were only good for one single thing—well, two. Fucking and breeding sons.

  Then there was the dragon. He’d caught it fair and square. Smiling to himself, he knew that was a fat lie too. He’d no more believed in them than he did faeries or unicorns. But he’d been at his buddy’s house and he’d had him tied down with chains in his big barn that he told him had to be iron so he’d not get away.

  It had taken him a great deal of planning to steal the dragon. It hurt him, too, that he’d had to end up killing his buddy over it. But when he found out that it could practically shit out money, he had to have it. There was never a time when you could have too much cash. And once he started reading up on them, the more he realized what the sucker was worth. Like every piece was worth millions. He had planned to start cutting away at the thing when he got rid of the kids and their mom. Then this had happened.

  His trial date was set for next week. Walton had called his father, who in turn had gotten him a lawyer. Dad hadn’t been that good of a role model for him, but when the shit hit the fan, like it had now, he could be counted on to help. He’d give you a hard time about it, but h
e’d get you to safer grounds.

  “Mr. Conrad, you have a visitor. Now I’m going to let you see him today, but you explain that he can’t come back tomorrow. You’re grounded.” He pointed out that he wasn’t ten. “Then how about I tell that daddy of yours how you fucked up yesterday, and he’ll just have to go back to where he came from?”

  “I’ll tell him.” It wouldn’t do any good. Telling his dad that he couldn’t do something was the same as saying go right on ahead and do whatever it is you want. Just make sure you stayed out of his way. Dad was a force that no one screwed with. “If I’m still grounded, why am I seeing him? Not that I don’t appreciate it?”

  “You were served, and he said he was getting you an attorney. I can’t deny you that.” He nodded. “Also, he gave me some cash, and that gets you both a freebie.”

  Shuffling out to the area where he was allowed to see people, with chains on his ankles and wrists, he wasn’t surprised all that much when he was led to a different place. One with a table and chairs, as well as food for him. Instead of eating it while the guard was in the room, he waited until his father dismissed him before reaching for the knife and fork. But before he could eat, the tray was shoved to the floor.

  “You got caught, dummy. How many times have I told you to keep what you do at home behind your own closed doors? I said that to you every darned day, and now look where you are. I’m going to have to keep greasing palms, so you can get out and take care of business. What the F were you thinking?” His father rarely used the word fuck, replacing it with just the first letter when he was really pissed off. “Where is this woman that you knocked around?”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t she at home?” He thought of something that would make his dad happy. “I have a son, dad. A little boy. I’m going to name him George Walton, after you.” He wasn’t, but Dad didn’t have to know that right away.

  “I thought you said she was having a girl.” He said that she’d lied. “Women. That’s all they do. Where is the boy? I’ll get him and take him back with me.”

  There was something there that made him think as soon as he got his grandson, his father would wash his hands of him. But instead of saying again that he didn’t know, he changed the subject.

  “I was served. She wants me to pay child support for taking care of my own kid. Why would I have to when I could just take him from her and raise him myself? Maybe I’ll have her pay me to watch over him.” Father said that he’d take care of that. “I hope so. If she needs support, why doesn’t she just drop this whole thing and give him to me? That way she won’t be burdened.”

  “You won’t be able to get him if she didn’t put your name on the birth certificate. And I’ll check into that as well. Also, with having a criminal record and all the other shit that you’ve done since you were born, it’ll be very hard to fight something you’ve been arrested for before. If that’s the case, then you might not stand a chance in taking him. But I will. That’s the way it should be anyway. I’m better equipped to handle him. If you go to prison, you can know he’s in good hands.” He asked if he was going to try and get him out. “Of course. I’d not let you rot in here. Though this is where you belong for getting caught with the goods, so to speak. I don’t know who the person is that had you arrested, but she has some big balls to turn against my son. A grandson. I can’t believe it; after all this time you finally did something right.”

  “I do things right all the time. You just choose not to notice them.” His father just nodded. “I do. Who enlarged your dope area? I did. Who is the one that told you the building you wanted downtown was going up for sale?”

  “Yes, and I didn’t get that either, did I? Sometimes you’re more trouble than you’re worth. I blame it on your mother, God rest her soul.” He pointed out that she wasn’t dead. “She might as well be. And would be too, if she didn’t have a pre-nup that I should never have signed, and then she wouldn’t change everything over to me. I should never have let her live, that’s all. Damn it all. I have a son.”

  “I do. You have a grandson.”

  Again, he was waved off, but it got him thinking. He wasn’t getting out of here. Also, no matter what his father said, he wasn’t going to take his son from him. Instead of listening, Walton started making his own plans. Not just to get out of here, but to get the boy too. And he’d kill whoever got in his way, including his own father. He’d fathered the boy, and he wanted to raise him. Bullshit on child support to Ginger. He would be the one getting paid.

  Chapter 3

  Grace was in shock. Garrett had taken her into his office when the show was still going on and told her she’d sold all but one of her paintings. Twice now she’d had to put her head between her knees, which wasn’t easy with her dress, in order to not pass out. Sold all but one? How was that even possible?

  “You want me to get someone for you?” The first person to pop into her head wasn’t her sister, but Lincoln. Which was silly—she didn’t even know him that well. “I can get Ginger for you, she’s not too far away.”

  “Away? Did she leave?” He told her what she was doing. “Oh. She told me that she’d have to pump tonight. No, don’t bother her. Could you maybe get one of the Mannings? I had a nice talk with the really tall one.”

  “They’re all really tall, darling. But I’ll get Lincoln since I know he’s your mate.” She didn’t get a chance to ask how he knew because he was gone that fast. When the door opened again, she didn’t even bother looking, knowing he’d turned her down.

  “You can bring in one of the women then. I know it was a longshot to ask him in here.” He cleared his throat and she turned to look at the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “Yes, well, he said you were hyperventilating, and needed someone to pick your chin up off the floor.” She was going to kill Garrett. “You look better than I expected, at least. Are you all right? You don’t look comfortable. Want me to hold your hand?”

  “No, I’m not all right. I sold all but one of the paintings.” He said that he’d heard and congratulated her. “I don’t want to sell them all. I’m not that good.”

  “Apparently other people have a different opinion. Just so you know, I have the same one. You’re very talented. And Ginger said you were self-taught. I’m very impressed with your work, honey.” He sat down on the floor in front of her, and all she could think about was the color of his eyes. They were the most gorgeous shade of green that she’d ever seen. “How you doing now?”

  She straightened, then stood when her dress started to ride up on her hips. He laughed when she struggled to pull it back into place. Grace didn’t know whether to kick him or beg him to help her. Actually, she wanted him to remove it, and that thought tripped her up a little.

  “I don’t wear this kind of clothing often. Not ever, really, but Garrett told me I needed to make a statement. I didn’t have any idea what I was supposed to be saying with the message, so I went with black like he suggested.”

  “Would you like to know what I think your statement is?” She wasn’t sure but nodded anyway. “I’m a powerful woman who knows her own worth. I’m sexy and I don’t need to cover myself when in a man’s world. I think with your talent, there will be men all over the world doubting they’re really any good when compared to you.”

  “All over the world, huh? I doubt very much if anyone will care about this self-taught wannabe.” He asked why she was a wannabe. “I have always wanted to be this premier artist. Painting wasn’t my first choice, but it went much better than being a potter or even someone that sewed. Which I failed at both big time but would honestly like to try again. And then one afternoon, while I was putting my paints away, the gas man was reading the meters and asked if I’d sell him the one he’d seen in the kitchen. I don’t even remember now how much he paid me, but it wasn’t a lot.”

  “He’s going to be jumping for joy when it gets out that you are a premier artist. I think anyone that has one of your
paintings will be selling them soon enough.” She laughed. “I’m serious. You’re that good.”

  “I’m average at best. And don’t get me wrong—I’m not fishing for compliments, I just know what I do and how good I am at it. And it’s fun. I don’t want it to ever become something that I need to do to make money. I think that would take all the joy out of it.” He asked her about the painting in the hotel room. “It’s not finished.”

  She was embarrassed to tell anyone about it. Especially this man. A dragon. She must have been thinking of this family when she’d started it. Instead, like he’d done, she changed the subject. Sitting down again, she had to rack her brain to find something to talk about that had nothing to do with paintings or sex.

  “I’m all right now. If you’d like to get back to whoever you came with.” He told her who he’d come with. “Well, I’m sure your family misses you.”

  “I don’t think they will right away.” He stretched out his legs in front of him and under her chair. It was intimate, the way he was sitting, and when he spoke, she had to have him repeat it. She’d been deep in a fantasy about him being naked in this same position. “I asked if I could kiss you.”

  She stood so fast that her dress caught under his shoes. Instead of falling, which she was sure she was going to do anyway, it ripped from the top of her shoulder down to the split at the side. Trying to get herself covered, she felt her temper snap.

  “What were you doing with your big feet on my dress? Do you have any idea how much this cost?” He didn’t answer, but he did stand and push her hands out of the way. “What the fuck are you doing? I can dress myself.”