over, like her stature.
They walked around to the front of the building. “You start here,” he said, pointing to the edge of the property. “I’ll start on the far side, and we’ll meet in the middle.”
She did as she was told. It was a beautiful evening, the snow still drifting down in big, fat flakes. It was only five thirty, but it was already dark, the yellow glow of the streetlights filling in for the absent moon, painting everything in a golden glow.
Soon, she was out of breath. Her muscles were protesting, but it was a good kind of protesting. A good kind of breathlessness. The aches and shortness of breath meant she was using her body to do something useful. Something concrete. She felt a satisfied pride in looking back at the cleared section of sidewalk behind her—although it was already dusted over with a layer of new snow.
“Hey,” Leo said, and then he was there, right in her space. “Don’t hurt yourself. There’s a lot accumulated. Take it off in two layers.” He demonstrated, digging his shovel in and scooping but not going all the way down to the pavement. Then he made a second pass to clear the bottom layer. He worked quickly and efficiently, with a grace she wouldn’t have expected.
“You’re not doing it that way,” she pointed out. “You’re scooping it up all at once.” She’d been aiming for more of that earlier playfulness, but she feared the accusation came out sounding more petulant than anything.
But somehow, he knew what she meant. He lifted an arm in a biceps-flexing gesture and said, with a joking flourish, “That is because I am a big manly man.”
“And I’m a weak little princess?” she filled in.
But she must have gotten it wrong, because he blinked rapidly, surprised. He had snowflakes on his eyelashes. “No,” he said quietly. “No. You’re just not used to doing this.”
She was such an idiot. Hadn’t she just been thinking about how Leo never made fun of people for traits they couldn’t control?
But it was too late. The damage was done. She’d made things awkward.
Leo turned to go back to his spot. The sight of his retreating back did something to her chest. He was leaving without understanding. He was leaving with things all wrong.
He was leaving.
She was leaving. After tonight, she would never see him again.
Her body took over, bending her knees so she was crouching near the ground. Her hands gathered snow, formed it into a tight, icy ball. Her knees carried her back to standing. Her mouth turned up at the corners.
And, finally, her arm retracted—and she let it rip.
“Oooff.”
Was that . . . ?
Leo whirled—and was promptly hit in the face by a second snowball.
Holy shit. The sight of Marie, she of the fancy pink coat, huddled near a snowbank outside his shitty apartment building, was so incongruous that it froze him in place for a moment, made his mind slow down. Was the princess of Eldovia really throwing snowballs at him?
A third one thwacked his solar plexus, summoning an involuntary gasp.
Yes, yes she was.
And her aim was perfect. And she was laughing like a hyena.
Well, princess or no, that could not be allowed to stand.
That laugh again, a cackle really, and it was like it somehow traveled across the thirty feet of shoveled sidewalk between them, reached inside his chest and pulled out one from him.
A matching set.
But he swallowed that laugh as soon as he could, unfroze his clumsy body, and ducked to avoid the next incoming missile. “You are going to regret that, Your Magical Regalness.”
“I doubt that!” she called back. “I told you I’m very good at winter pursuits.”
Which she demonstrated by evading his first several snowballs. It was that same lightness on her feet she’d had at Rockefeller Center.
“I’m also quite talented at archery,” Marie taunted, and she landed another hit while he was temporarily disabled, stunned really, by the image of her with a bow and arrow, poised to vanquish her enemies with merely a finely honed arrow and her perfect aim.
But, okay, get a grip, Ricci. He lifted his hands into the air and started walking toward her, pretending to surrender. He hit her with a grin—not that he had to fake it. “Clearly, you win, Your Right Honorable Heiressness.”
When she threw her head back to laugh in victory, he moved like lightning and gathered an armful of snow. He didn’t shape it into a ball, just unceremoniously dumped it on her head.
“Ahhh!”