Page 2 of Tech Prince Troubles (Runaway Prince Hotel #6)

Chapter Two

SAM

life is a highway

H umming along to the tones of “Life is a Highway,” I turned onto Franklin Drive, smiling at the distant ocean glittering in the sun.

It was a good day. Tomorrow I’d be back to the smell of coffee and the rattle and hiss of the machines, but my days off were all about quiet and kids.

Which was a contradiction in terms, according to some of my colleagues. I disagreed.

The song faded out as I slid our passenger van into the closest parking spot to the kindergarten, a sense of calm settling in my bones just thinking about the cacophony of kids soon filling the car. That didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy these last precious minutes before the storm.

I took a deep breath and leaned back, letting Norah Jones’s dulcet tones wash over me while I went over my to-do list in my head. The shopping was done, the laundry was sorted, the chicken was marinating, and I’d even fixed a tear in Julian’s favorite sweater.

The doors of the kindergarten opened as my playlist shifted to “We Don’t Talk About Bruno.” Perfect timing. I hit repeat.

Masses of little ones swarmed across the playground, running, dancing, and jumping into the arms of their parents.

I got out of the car when Ella—our bubbly bundle of a five-year-old in a purple mesh tutu—broke free from the crowd.

It never stopped amazing me how all our kids had Evan’s eyes, his smile, and that alluring jut of his chin.

Ella—like Charlie and Alex—had Bethany’s dark, springy curls and warm brown skin.

She had more energy than the twins combined at that age.

Julian, too, would burst out of the doors, then bounce back and forth like a spring as he waited for Quinn, who always seemed to consider every step. How were they sixteen already? Where had the time gone?

“Coffee. Coffee!” Ella yelled when she finally spotted me, dragging her backpack along more than carrying it.

I cursed Evan and Bethany every single day for that.

Between the twins and the young ones, Evan still hadn’t learned that whatever we said would come back to us tenfold.

Though he still claimed it had been an accident, that barista had been too difficult for her to understand.

She no longer thought my name was Coffee, but it stuck.

“Hey, bean. Had a good day?”

She dropped her backpack at my feet and twirled as I opened the door. “Miss said we’re reading about wild things tomorrow.”

Words tumbled out of her as she climbed into her seat like a released wind-up car—a relentless barrage of “Lois this” and “Rafi that” filling the car as I strapped her in.

Her chatter always made my heart sing and left me little space to mull.

I just smiled and nodded, keeping an eye on the other side of the parking lot, where Charlie and Alex would appear.

She didn’t even notice when I set my playlist to stop repeating the Bruno song.

Cars drove off and new cars arrived, and Ella’s chatter was still going strong. I still started when she yelled, “There’s Alex!”

Curls bouncing on his head, he skipped ahead of Charlie but didn’t seem to hear Ella.

At seven, he had that same faraway expression in his eyes that made Evan’s brother seem old beyond his years as a kid.

Charlie, ten and fully aware of her audience, shuffled more than strolled, arm-in-arm with her best friends, dragging her heels just enough to make a point.

I tried not to roll my eyes at her as I greeted Alex. “Hey, ace.”

“Hi, Pop,” he mumbled, lost in thought, not even looking up as he climbed into the car.

Ella wouldn’t be ignored, though, and waved her hands in his face as she repeated his name until he gave her a quick hug and ruffled her hair.

When he was this deep in thought, it always took him a moment to get his seatbelt on, and I gripped the steering wheel to keep from offering help.

I let out a sigh when he eventually clicked it in place.

Without checking how close Charlie was, I turned the key and counted. She was in the car before I reached five.

“Jeez, Sam. I was just…” she trailed off when she caught me raising an eyebrow at her in the mirror. “Sorry, Pop.” She closed the door and strapped herself in behind her siblings.

“Apology accepted. Shall we go pick up Quinn and Julian and see what goodies they bought us today?”

The mirror showed me three eager faces as cheery yesses echoed through the car.

Alex’s expression was clearer and more alert. “Drive, Pop. Drive!”

Shaking my head, I put the van in gear and rolled toward the exit of the parking lot, mindful of the parents and kids still walking to their cars. A chorus of groans sounded behind me when “Banana Pancakes” piped up on the radio.

“Not again,” Charlie complained.

For a moment, I was tempted to leave it on as punishment for her rudeness.

I sighed. That sort of thing never worked with Charlie, so I switched to the kids’ favorite songs playlist and reversed the speaker setting to loud in the back, down in the front.

They were singing along—loud, off-key, but full of joy—to one of Charlie’s favorites before I even slid onto the road.

Even with my speakers turned down, I’d be humming those tunes in my head until long after dinner.

Quinn and Julian already stood outside their favorite comic store—next to the candy store—as I parked the van on the curb.

My heart swelled at the sight. They’d inherited my sturdy frame—less the soft belly—my messy brown hair, right down to the golden undertones, but like their younger siblings, they had Evan’s pale brown eyes and smile.

When Julian smirked, I always expected Evan’s voice to come out of his mouth, especially now they were growing taller than me…

Instead of joining their brother in the back, Quinn—wearing their noise reduction headphones—sat next to me.

Julian mimed a high-five in the mirror as a greeting. I mimed one back.

“Right.” Julian’s deep voice boomed through the music as he unzipped his backpack and took out a tin. “I’ll give three clues. Whoever guesses right has first choice of chores.”

As the younger ones listened to Julian’s clues, I turned to Quinn and gave them a thumbs-up/thumbs-down gesture. They smiled—the quiet smile they always gave when things were fine but needed some space.

Space it was. I steered the van back into traffic and drove home, away from the sun, and away from the sea.

Our family was unconventional, too much for some, but we made our co-parenting unit work.

The twins—mine and Evan’s, from before I started on T—loved the big sibling status Bethany and Evan’s kids gave them.

Meanwhile, Charlie, Alex, and Ella took full advantage of having two dads and a mom.

And an indulgent aunt in Tammy, my ex-wife and Bethany’s best friend, who had no kids of her own.

Mindful of giving Quinn space, there was no more sing-along. Instead, Julian entertained us all by reading from his new comic, making me laugh as he adapted the less appropriate cursing into kid-safe versions.

I parked the van on Evan and Bethany’s drive—we’d been lucky to land adjacent semi-detached houses—and took the kids back to mine. Though I expected Quinn to go straight to their room, they joined the rest at the kitchen table as I poured them iced tea.

All eyes locked onto the snack tin Julian placed in front of him.

“Who wants to go first?” he asked with that familiar smirk.

“Snoopers crackle bar,” Charlie guessed, naming something she didn’t even like.

Alex scrunched up his face before blurting out, “Tishman’s Fishery fish sticks!”

It made everyone groan. It was his favorite.

“What?” he said. “It has to be right sometime.”

No chance. Not that the others didn’t love it. They did. For lunch. Not as a snack.

“What about you, Ella?” Julian asked.

Ella threw the tin an eager smile. “Maple fudge.”

Any fudge would do for Ella, or anything sticky that she could use to negotiate extra bath time.

Julian shook his head and shared a secret smile with Quinn as he opened the tin and revealed a stack of extra-large chocolate cookies—Quinn’s favorite—to excited cheers from the younger ones.

“Great choice.” And not just because they’d brought me one, too, since I loved them just as much as Quinn.

Silence fell as they enjoyed their tea and cookies. Quinn had taken their headphones off and sat at the end of the table, sneaking glances at the phone tray at the end of the counter.

“Everything okay, kiddo?” I asked as I slid into the seat next to theirs .

“Yeah, it was just a lot today.”

“We had a substitute teacher. He was awful,” Julian explained from the other side of the table. “Half the class thought it was funny to switch places. I like a practical joke, but they kept pushing until he snapped. Doubt we’ll be seeing him again.”

“Sounds rough. If you need to decompress, I’ll give you a pass on chores today.”

“No, I’m okay. Store was quiet enough, so I drew while Jules scoured comics.” They glanced at the tray again.

Something was definitely up. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure, Pop. Promise.” Quinn’s smile seemed less brittle. “Just eager to check out the Kaia Blue reels everyone’s talking about.”

Right. Their favorite podcaster. “You can have your phone once we’ve divided chores. Fifteen minutes.”

Quinn pouted. “Twenty?”

I raised my eyebrow. Usually, it was Julian begging for extra afternoon phone privileges. “All right.”

“Thanks, Pop.” They leaned into me for a half-hug. “I’ll take ten tomorrow.”

“Noted. Speaking of chores…” I looked around the table, ignoring the groans and protests. “Since there was no winner, I get to choose.”

More groans. “Ella, you can clear the table. Charlie and Alex can fluff the pillows and duvets and put them back on the beds. Quinn can cut the vegetables for the miso marinated chicken, and Julian?—”

“I promised the Masters at number 160 I’d mow their front lawn.”

“They pay you. That doesn’t count toward your chores.”

“I know, but if I’m doing theirs, I thought I might as well do ours? ”

Evan usually mowed our combined yards, but the grass was getting pretty rough. That made three yards’ worth of mowing. “Okay then. Try to get it done before dinner.”

“I’ll do it now. Don’t suppose you’ll let me take my phone?”

I shook my head.

“Worth trying,” Julian said with a shrug as he pushed his chair back and left the room.

While Alex followed Julian, Charlie lingered.

“Is there something you wanted, sprite?”

She mock-glared at me, so whatever she wanted, it wasn’t serious. Her reactions to my nickname for her depended on her mood, but when I’d offered to call her scout or even tiger on her tenth birthday, she’d declined. As long as I didn’t call her sprite in front of her friends.

“Can I watch Kaia Blue with Quinn before I help Alex with the duvets?”

“That’s up to Quinn.” I trusted them to tell me if there was anything not safe for Charlie to watch.

“Sure. I don’t mind. We’ll watch on the tablet. Is that okay, Pop?”

“That’s fine.”

As Ella carried one item at a time to the dishwasher, I gathered the vegetables for Quinn to cut.

Repetitive dance music piped up from the tablet, along with background noises from what sounded like a party.

The same beat, over and over and over. And the kids complained about having to listen to “Banana Pancakes.” This was much worse.

It didn’t sound like the podcast, though. “I thought you mentioned Kaia Blue?”

“She got engaged to Prince Frank. These are reels from the party she posted.”

“Prince who?” I rounded the counter and joined them .

“Prince Frank from Niralen,” Quinn answered without looking up. “You know, from the Niren Bee Restoration Project.”

Charlie sighed. “They’re so pretty together.”

Ah. Bees. That sounded familiar. I recognized Kaia from posters in Quinn’s bedroom—a fiery redhead with pale freckled skin who inspired Quinn’s love for nature.

Her partner—Prince Frank—couldn’t have been more different.

His white hair sparkled at the tips, and a green circuit pattern glowed across his purple skin.

Right. Niren. From Niralen. An island somewhere in the Pacific.

They made the chips for our coffee machines.

For everything. Both were tall, making my five-foot-seven feel tiny.

Charlie was right. They made a very pretty pair.