“That’s because they haven’t heard your rendition of ‘Mamma Mia,’ ” Nina said, and Sam smiled.
The thing was, she’d never stayed with a boyfriend’s family before. She’d never even had a boyfriend until this year, when she’d started dating Lord Marshall Davis, heir to the dukedom of Orange. There had been men in her life—a number of men, if you counted all the names the tabloids had linked with hers—but those relationships had all quickly fizzled out.
And this time, the attention was more intense than ever. America couldn’t stop talking about her and Marshall, whether in disapproval or obsessive adulation. Sam had never gotten so much hate mail, or so much fan mail. There was even gear: coffee mugs printed with their faces, tank tops that said team samarshall, and a rather terrifying set of rag dolls, with Sam’s and Marshall’s palms sewn together so that they were forever holding hands. Her brother, Jeff, kept joking that he would buy one and leave it on Sam’s bed for her to find, at which point Sam had threatened to commission one of him and Daphne. Jeff hadn’t mentioned it again after that.
Sam wished she and Marshall could get a little more breathing room. But they had always been in the spotlight—at first, that had been their goal. They’d originally gotten together for show, just to make their respective exes jealous. Only later had they realized that their feelings were real. It wasn’t exactly a normal way to start dating.
But then, dating was never normal when you were Princess of America and heir to the throne.
Sam looked back at Nina, who’d curled her bare feet beneath her, a book in her lap. The bag of M&M’s was propped on the leather armrest as Nina absentmindedly popped one candy after another into her mouth. Sam felt an overwhelming burst of affection for her.
“Thanks for coming with me this summer,” she said. “You know I couldn’t have done this tour without you.”
Nina glanced up from her book. “Please, you would have done just fine without me. Though you would’ve been forced to hold your own koala.”
Sam smiled at that. “Ah, Maxine the koala. What an icon.”
During their visit to the Phoenix Zoo, one of the animal handlers had offered Sam a koala to hold. “Thank you! I’m sure my friend would like to hold her,” she’d replied, dodging the offer. Before Nina could protest, the koala was thrust into her arms. Poor Maxine must have been even more anxious than Nina was, because she promptly peed down the front of Nina’s color-blocked dress.
“Are you sure you can’t stay another few days?” Sam added. “It’s going to be so long before I see you again.”
“You don’t want me crashing your time with Marshall.” Nina raised an eyebrow. “Besides, you do have your own plane. You can always come see me if you get bored of the League of Kings conference and need an escape from all the stuck-up princes and princesses.”
“Speaking of the plane, are you sure you won’t take it back to the East Coast?”
“Absolutely not.” No matter how adamantly Sam had insisted upon it, Nina refused to take Eagle III without her. She’d booked a commercial flight back to Washington for later that afternoon.
“You’re the only person I know who would turn down a private plane. Which, I should point out, is fully stocked with M&M’s.”
“Ooh, good point. I should steal more while I still can.” Nina marched over to the other six seats on the plane, cheerfully grabbing M&M’s from the snack drawer beneath each of them.
A ding sounded through the cabin, and the seat-belt light overhead turned bright orange. “Your Royal Highness, Miss Gonzalez,” came the pilot’s voice, “we’re beginning our descent. Please take your seats.”
Sam pressed her face against the window. As their plane sank toward the private airstrip, she noticed a bright red SUV parked alongside the runway. A tall Black man leaned against the door with deceptive casualness, wearing commercial-grade headphones and sunglasses.
“Marshall’s here!” Nina exclaimed, staring out her own window.
“I told him not to pick me up at the airport,” Sam replied, though she was grinning.
“This isn’t just picking you up at the airport; it’s meeting your plane. He will be there right as our door opens.” Nina’s eyes met Sam’s. “I know you’re not a romantic, but for the record, this is an expert-level romantic gesture.”
Sam pretended to scoff, though her heart wasn’t in it.
Not a romantic. That used to be true, but not anymore.
* * *
Marshall tugged at Sam’s wrist, pulling her onto the back porch. Row upon row of vines receded into the distance, their pale green grapes peeking out from beneath waxy leaves. “Come on, my little polpetta!”
Sam gave a breathless laugh. “Polpetta?” Ever since she and Marshall had started dating, he’d called her an increasingly ridiculous series of nicknames—panda bear, Skittle, love muffin.
“It’s Italian for ‘meatball,’ ” Marshall explained. “I ran out of nicknames in English, so I looked up some in other languages. To be fair, I don’t actually know if polpetta is a romantic nickname or what parents call their babies,” he added. Sam couldn’t help but smile.
As they started down a gravel path, the wind pricked at Sam’s arms. Seeing her shiver, Marshall unzipped his fleece and handed it over. She laughed when she saw the orange T-shirt he wore beneath, the words state championships written above a cartoon grizzly bear.
“You do realize that your shirt has a hole in it. Multiple holes,” she amended, tugging at a rip along the hem.
“Hey, this shirt is a relic! It’s not like I can go to championships again to get another one. My high school water polo career is over.” Marshall sighed in mock sorrow.
“If only I’d known you then. I clearly missed out on your glory days.” Sam tilted her head. “Do you think we would’ve liked each other, if we’d met in high school?”
“I doubt it. You wouldn’t have put up with my shenanigans.”
“Like what?”
“You know, stupid guy stuff. Driving the Jeep when I was fourteen, skipping school and heading to the beach, playing beer pong with the Orange State Cab. Fun fact: red wine and beer pong do not mix,” he added.
It didn’t sound all that different from what Jeff and his friends used to do. Except— “What’s the Orange State Cab?”
“My family has been growing the same cabernet for over a hundred years. We always serve it at official state functions. You didn’t drink any at Accession Day?” Marshall asked.