At the high point of her jump, Caroline "Cocoa" Marsh grabbed the snowboard between her feet. Cold air hit her face as she flew through Timberline's terrain park. She landed smoothly and carved her way down the hill.
Her boss, Sean Hughes, had hugely improved the performance of this prototype freestyle snowboard. Light. Snappy. She couldn't wait to hit another jump.
Today reminded Cocoa why being a graphic designer at Hughes Snowboards was the best job in the world. Season passes were only one of the employee perks. She could ride year-round on Mount Hood. And like this bluebird Monday morning in November, she often got paid to do it.
Cocoa eyed a tabletop jump. Her pulse quickened.
She rode up the ramp with enough speed to clear the flat top and land on the downward slope. Soaring into the air, she opened her shoulders into a Frontside 3, a.k.a a 360. She spun, feeling exhilarated.
Her heel edge caught. Cocoa's back slammed into the snow. Air rushed from her lungs. She slid down the transition until she came to a stop.
She lay momentarily stunned. A quick inventory confirmed she wasn't hurt. Fresh snowfall from last night had softened the crash, but she might have a bruise or two.
Showboating had caused her to come up short, not the new board. The balaclava keeping her face warm muffled the sound of her laughter.
A glove-covered hand reached down. She grabbed hold of it and was pulled upright by someone in a plaid jacket, the kind worn by the coaches at the Hood Hamlet Snowboarding Camp. She didn't recognize him, but even with goggles covering much of his face, she thought he looked familiar.
"Thanks." Cocoa brushed snow off her pants and jacket. "Spotting for your crew?"
"Making sure the landing is clear."
Goose bumps prickled her skin. He sounded like Rex Billings, but the snowboarding star would never take time out of the spotlight to coach. She slid away from the landing area.
The guy followed her and waved to the riders waiting above. "Nice take-off, but you came up short."
She grimaced. "Yeah, dude, I know what I did wrong."
"You've got real potential."
Cocoa didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. She'd been pegged to bring home the gold in 2006. Instead she'd watched the games from a hospital bed. "Real potential, huh?"
He raised his goggles onto his helmet. "Definitely."
Staring into oh-so-familiar piercing blue eyes, she sucked in a sharp, cold breath.
Oh, no. Cocoa had looked into those eyes before. Kissed those lips, too. Unwanted tingles filled her stomach.
Rex.
It was him.
Figured he didn't recognize her. Okay, she was wearing goggles and a face mask, but he'd proven years ago that their time together had meant nothing to him. He went through women like popcorn. She'd been nothing but another kernel in his bucket. Friends had warned her about his reputation, but she'd been young and stupid and in love.
"Rex Billings."
He nodded, as if he were used to being recognized. With snowboarding movies, prestigious medals, his own clothing line and other endorsements, he was.
Rex stared at her. "We've met."
Gorgeous, but still a player. "Years ago."
"You must have been a kid."
