Runaway prince, p.1
Runaway Prince, page 1
RUNAWAY PRINCE
WEDDING DISASTERS
BOOK 2
D. K. SUTTON
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2024 by D. K. Sutton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Willow Sterling
Editor: Abbie Nicole
Professional Betas: Abbie Nicole; Jen Sharon
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
Introduction
Runaway Prince
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by D. K. Sutton
As Addison Lloyd
Content Warnings:
This book has a side character with issues around substance use and addiction. I worked many years with parents struggling with these issues. My goal with this storyline was to present it in way that doesn’t blame or shame. However, I also wanted to present friends and family members affected by their loved one’s substance use in a realistic manner. There is no on page substance use but it is discussed. There are also references to grief and depression around the loss of a sibling.
RUNAWAY PRINCE
The royal wedding took years to prepare and one moment of panic and a cute single dad to undo.
As a European prince, I should want for nothing, right? I have money, power, prestige.
But what about love and passion? Acceptance?
Running to America on the eve of my wedding isn’t the responsible thing to do. Just ask my mother, the Queen. She has quite a few thoughts on the subject.
While hiding from my protection detail in a Burger King, I meet Isaac and his son. This protective father interrupts me, calls me a menace, and doesn’t believe I’m a prince. I’m instantly smitten. All of this is new to me. I’ve never been attracted to a guy…or anyone, for that matter.
But Isaac has his own responsibilities and our chance meeting complicates his life in ways I couldn’t have imagined. As we work together to mitigate the damage, I fall even harder for this amazing man.
How can this work when we live in different countries? Will Isaac lose the person he cares about most? Will my country accept a gay future king?
I don’t know what happens next, but I know I can’t face it without Isaac by my side.
Runaway Prince is the second book in the Wedding Disasters series. If you enjoy books with royals in love, bi-awakening, possessive MCs, tiara-stealing emus, and an HEA, dive into this swoony, laugh-out-loud, small-town romance.
1
ISAAC
I jab my computer keys, trying and failing to ignore the tattooed muscled man, twink in a tiara, and five-year-old child parading past my desk, followed by an honest-to-God emu. “I’m trying to work here,” I announce. Loudly. But they barely notice as they sing the lyrics to “Someday My Prince Will Come” at the top of their lungs.
I hate my job.
But not this one. My other job. The one that pays the bills and starts in forty-five minutes. I have just enough time to drop my son at daycare and drive the twenty miles to Anderson Real Estate. If only jobs in Mule Creek paid as well. Then, I might enjoy the chaos of working part-time at Zyetastic Weddings. As I hit send on a follow-up email that took way too long to finish to a potential client, Zye leans down next to Simon, and the emu snatches the tiara off his head. Zye shrieks while Simon and Miles crack up.
Enjoy might be too strong a word.
Zye, the twink in the tiara with the platinum-blond hair, is my boss. Miles, a gorgeous He-man type with long dark-blond hair currently tied up in a bun, is his boyfriend. And, I suspect, the reason for the three-foot emu in the front lobby. The emu hisses when Zye retrieves his tiara, and it’s all too much. I jump to my feet and slam my hands down on my desk. “Is anyone listening to me?”
“I am, Daddy!” Simon rushes behind the desk and hugs my legs. My frustration melts away. Mostly. “Can’t we stay? We’re having a parade.” His eyes are blue, the same color as mine, but everything else about his face, including the set of his chin, reminds me of his mother.
Unlike his mother, I want to give Simon everything. Not everything he wants, but all that he needs. To do that, I need to keep a steady job that pays the bills—including a mountain of legal fees—and provides for things like a 401k and healthcare. “I can see that, bud, but we need to go.”
“It’s summer. I don’t want to go to daycare. Why can’t I stay here?”
Zye scoots closer. “You know, Isaac, maybe—”
My harsh glare stops his words. He means well. But it will only be more difficult the next time Simon wants to stay. Zye can’t watch Simon all the time. Not with all the new business he’s getting since Cher’s video went viral two weeks ago. Not to mention, daycares are like the Mafia. You pay up no matter what. Even if the kid isn’t there.
I’m happy for Zye. The entire situation could have been worse. Zye had hoped planning Cher’s wedding would restore his reputation from his previous wedding disaster. It did not. But Cher, being a popular social media influencer, somehow turned her non-wedding into a TikTok challenge. Now Zye’s business is booming, and he’s busy. Too busy to watch a five-year-old.
“Put your dad-eyes away, Isaac. I get it.” Zye walks around the desk and musses Simon’s hair. “We can have the parade when you get back.” The bird follows, pecking at his shiny green shoes. Zye’s smile drops. “Justine might be too tired to participate,” he says through gritted teeth.
The bird grunts as Zye moves his feet just in time to avoid being pecked again. Miles laughs, shooing Justine away and kissing Zye on the cheek. The love is so thick between them it makes me sick. Or that might be jealousy. It’s been a while for me—and that reminds me of my stupid ex and my other stupid job. “We have to go now.”
Pouting, Simon plops down on the floor. “No.”
Miles and Zye gasp dramatically, and I roll my eyes. It’s not the first time my kid has told me no. Although, things have gotten better since I started working here, and I haven’t been as stressed all the time. I don’t blame Simon. Hell, I’m physically and mentally exhausted. I’d love to plop down on the floor and refuse to leave. Unfortunately, I have to be the adult in this room. Thinking about the craziness of the last two weeks and the wedding that wasn’t, I realize it’s not just with my son. Zye is over the top. Smart. Brilliant. But over the top. Miles is more responsible, but he thinks with his heart, and anything Zye or Simon wants, they get…which leaves me to be the responsible one.
The boring one.
Enough self-pity. “You have two choices, Simon.” I pull the timer from my desk and point to the number on the side of the cube. “You can have five minutes with Stella to sit and feel your feelings.” Simon named her Stella because timers obviously need a name. “But then, when I pick you up from daycare, we’re going right home. No parade. Or one minute with Stella,” I say, pointing to the corresponding number on the cube, “and we return after work for a short, short parade.”
He looks up with tear-filled eyes. “Can I turn Stella over?”
I smile. This kid is my everything. “Of course.”
He stands and reaches for the cube. “Will you parade with us? Uncle Zye bought a crown for you.”
I glance at my boss. His eyes sparkle in amusement. “Really? More crowns? When is this royal wedding over?”
“Tomorrow,” Zye says in a singsong voice. “The prince is so handsome. And the gown—”
“You can tell me all about it on Monday. You remember I’m not working this weekend, right?”
“We’re going to the mall,” Simon says, his eyes bright.
“The Blue Springs Mall?” Miles glances at me, and I nod. “That’s near my shop.”
Simon’s mouth drops open. “Really? You’re soooo lucky.”
As if Miles has time to stop working so he can hang out at the mall. Although, he is always here. And his auto shop is thirty-five miles away. When does he work?
“Guess where we’re eating.” Simon grins.
“Burger King?” Miles asks with just as much excitement, and Simon nods eagerly.
Miles is such a good guy and great with kids. Zye hit the jackpot with him. Zye must see something in my eyes because he says, “Remember our mission, Isaac.”
“No—”
“To get Daddy a prince of his own!”
My mouth drops open at Simon’s announceme
“Hot?” Simon glances between us.
“Enough of that. Are you ready to set Stella?”
He nods, grabs the cube, turns it over so the one is on top, and plops to the floor. His eyes are dry, and he’s grinning from ear to ear as he pets Justine.
This kid.
After the timer goes off, it's a rush to get Simon out the door and into the car. He never wants to go to daycare, but as soon as we pull up and he sees his friends, he rushes in. Being at daycare is better for him than sitting in Zye’s office all day. Still, I hate having to work two jobs and that we don’t get more time together. After working nonstop for the last two weeks on the Webber wedding, I insisted on taking this weekend off so we could enjoy some time together.
All I need to do is get through today. And the job I hate.
I slip behind my desk at Anderson Real Estate with a cup of coffee and a few minutes to spare. This work environment is completely different. The accounting department has rows of cubicles, four deep and four across, with two desks in each cubby. My desk here is bigger, and the equipment is newer. The printer actually works, unlike the one at Zye’s office that spits out pages only partially printed most of the time. I’m also more organized here because Zye isn’t randomly setting things on my desk, ignoring the inbox I put out just for that purpose. But this job has a few major drawbacks. The stress. The distance. And the ex.
I don’t have to look up to know Paul is standing by my desk. The way he pours on his cologne, the entire building probably knows where he is. Hard to believe I used to love that smell.
“Doing anything fun this weekend, Isaac?” He picks up my Star Trek paperweight that Simon gave me for Father’s Day. It has a tiny Starship Enterprise inside, and I want to yank it out of Paul’s hands. He snorts. “And by fun, I don’t mean hanging out with your kid.”
“Go away, Paul.”
He chuckles and returns the paperweight. Not where I had it, but at this point, I don’t care. As long as he leaves. Newsflash. He doesn’t. “You’re so predictable, Isaac.” He leans closer. “Boring. Have you even dated anyone else since I dumped you?”
That isn’t what happened, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of responding. “My personal life is no longer your concern. Please, go away.” I’d love to ignore him completely, but I’ve learned from experience he will only get louder. The cubicles in the office give the illusion of privacy, but you can still hear everyone. Especially if they want to be heard.
I try to ignore his words, but the truth is…I am boring. Most guys my age, almost twenty-six, like to go out drinking and partying. But that isn’t me. Spending time with Simon is my idea of fun. And if I get a few hours to myself at night, I’m almost giddy.
My cubby-mate, Macy, gives me an encouraging smile from her desk, and it helps me focus on my emails and not my ex. Until he sighs. Loudly. For fuck’s sake. I contemplate knocking my coffee over and ruining his expensive shoes. But that would be a waste of good—okay, average with a bitter aftertaste—coffee. We broke up over a year ago, so I’m not sure why he likes to bother me so much.
His presence in my small space is suffocating. I suspect this is his idea of fun. When he doesn’t leave, I glance up. “Something you want, Paul?”
He looks me over with a scowl and wrinkles his nose. “Nope. Nothing.”
Ass.
Some days, I just want to walk out and never return. But despite being in a mostly rural area, Anderson is close enough to the Kansas City metro area to provide a decent salary. Which is why I can’t quit.
Maybe if I wasn’t drowning in debt. But I’d never wish the legal fees away. Every penny used to get sole custody of Simon was worth it. Someday, I’ll have them paid off, and then everything will be better.
“All right there, Isaac?” Macy smiles, and I return it easily. If there’s a bright spot to working here, it’s Macy. She always has a good word for everyone. Her chipper voice in her British accent brightens the dreariest of days. And I enjoy the fact that she’s less cheery around Paul. Her husband is based at Whiteman Air Force Base in Knobnoster, only thirty miles away. They met when he was stationed at RAF Lakenheath in the UK and are still madly in love. Which must be why she always fixates on my love life. Or lack thereof.
Once Paul disappears around the corner, I relax in my chair and give her a smile. “I’m fine, thanks,” I say in a low voice. No sense in getting Paul’s attention again. “How’s your day going? Do you have big plans this weekend?”
“It’s going all right.” She takes a sip from her cup that says I’M A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE. “I’m trying to convince Steven to watch the Lutianan royal wedding with me. It’s going to be televised live, and I can’t wait. Jasella’s dress is absolutely gorgeous. Have you seen it?”
I shake my head. What is it with people and royals? “I don’t watch anything but cartoons and Star Trek reruns. I’ve avoided the wedding coverage. I get enough of that at my other job.”
She rolls her chair over, glancing at the opening to our cubicle and back at me. “So you haven’t seen the prince? He’s gorgeous. I love my Steven, but if Prince—”
My desk phone rings and I give her an apologetic smile. Not that I’m sorry. I’ll be glad when the wedding is over so people can stop talking about it. Maybe then Zye will stop trying to find the perfect guy for me. I’m not looking for a prince. Just someone sweet and nice to my son.
Is that too much to ask?
2
ADRIAN
As I ditch my protection detail yet again, I wonder if Reginald regrets playing hide and seek with me as a child. Now, it’s not just the governess and Reginald upset with me for running off to chase geese at five years old. It’s the entire country. Because at this moment, I’m supposed to be at a wedding.
My wedding.
But instead of saying my vows and eating the wedding cake our pastry chef Alonzo beautifully and lovingly prepared, I’m thousands of miles away, pressed between a dingy yellow wall and a giant statue, staring into the eyes of the one person who can expose me. A very small person. Wearing a crown.
Up to this point, it had been child’s play. Ditching the palace guards? Easy. Traveling across the Atlantic Ocean? A bit harder. Avoiding calls from the Queen—my mother—the most difficult. Although not in the execution. I simply turned off my mobile phone. But that single action will likely haunt me for the rest of my days.
I don’t regret any of it. Except getting spotted by my protection-detail-turned-search-and-rescue-party over by a Bath and Body Works and fleeing to the first place I could find. So it’s a bit ironic that the statue next to me is a king. A grinning king with outstretched hands. But even more unnerving is the tiny king on my other side with earnest and clever eyes.
“Whatcha doing?” he asks in a tiny voice.
This small person needs to go away. Immediately. Before we draw attention. “What does it look like?” I ask, waving my hand for him to move along.
“Like you’re hiding.” The paper crown slips over one eye, and he pushes it up. “Is it a game?”
“Yes.” I jump on that excuse. Kids love games, don’t they? “Hide and seek.”
His face scrunches up. “Are you winning?”
I try to blend into the background. Something I am not used to doing. “Absolutely not,” I say with a sigh. How can I be winning when I’m the prince of a European country hiding in a Burger King in a shopping mall somewhere in America? And my ability to get out of this situation with my dignity intact rests on a small boy of six or seven.
I lean down to his level. “How old are you?”
“Five.”
The magical age. I wasn’t far off the mark, but that begs another question. “Where is your mum?”
He shrugs. Great. Perfect.
