Pink slapped across his cheeks. He looked back at the untracked snow. “Sorry if that was weird, I just offered because it’s so icy. I can shut up. Or you can use my hand. Or I can go to my car and you can call out if you have trouble or–”
“Harvey,” I pulled on his arm. “I’d love that.”
“Yeah?” He tugged his cap down over reddening ears.
Filled with confidence, I swung our linked hands. “On one condition: can I ride piggyback?”
13
Piggyback
Harvey bent at the knees, his hands out behind him almost like he was curtseying as he drolly offered me his back. “Your chariot, m’lady.”
I bit back a squeal. This was really happening.
I looped my arms around his neck and hopped up as he hooked his arms under my knees. The world was even more exciting from up here, especially this close to Harvey. I wiggled my feet with glee.
“Careful.” He hoisted me higher and my stomach swooped. “Now, which one is your car?” he asked.
I rocked to the side to point over his shoulder. “That igloo under the lamppost.”
He grunted.
I leaned over to study his face. “Are you okay? Am I too heavy?”
He huffed a laugh. “You’re great, just stop squirming.”
My numbing nose brushed against the edge of his cap and hair as I settled into a comfortable position. The scent combo ofcinnamon and coffee was intoxicating. “I wish you could carry me tomorrow, too. I have the morning shift.”
“After closing? That sucks. Are you going straight to bed, then?”
I hugged him close, imagining if we laid together like this. “I don’t know. Will I be in trouble if I don’t?”
"Maybe." His fingers flexed into the underside of my thighs, which instinctively made me squeeze him between them.
My heart pounded louder than the drummer boy. Was slipping in the snow and running into Harvey some sign from the universe? I hugged him tighter. “I feel like I should do something fun so I’m not just in ‘Sugarplum’ mode for forty-eight hours straight.”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice husky from work.
“I don’t know. Watch TV?” My toes curled at my own suggestion. It wasn’t technically an invitation, but it could be.
The warmth of his breath tickled my hands. “Sounds good to me.”
Did that mean he’d want to join me?
Harvey turned his head, offering me a sheepish smile. “Hey, uh, I can’t believe I’m asking so late in the game, but what’s your real name?”
The answer caught in my throat. Was this a game? Despite all my pining and our shared breaks, I didn’t really know Harvey. But he was nice enough to carry me through a parking lot and give me cookies. He guarded me from the perils of snowplows. He liked me. He respected me, so I told him my real name. “Shelby. But you can still call me ‘Sugarplum’ when we’re at the mall. It sounds more festive.” I flexed my toes, half expecting a bell to chime.
“I like Shelby," he said.
Ahhh, he liked me!
“Sugarplum does suit you, though. A vision dancing over our heads and into the shop. Or wiping out in the parking lot.” He jokingly dropped me half an inch only to hoist me higher on his back.
Laughing, I scrambled to hug him tighter. “I can’t help it. It’s icy.”
“I know. And it’s always nice to see you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you look forward to getting caffeinated and spending half your paycheck on our snacks. Retail can be a vicious cycle.”
