Jackie was stamped into the name tag pinned high on the prominent breasts and when she caught and held Shannon’s eye they conveyed equal interest.
“Going up again?” Jackie asked none too subtly as her gaze ran up and down Shannon’s body. Her tight bike shorts and tank top left little if anything to the imagination, but the look on Jackie’s face said her imagination was working just fine. She reached for Shannon’s bike to hang it on the hook.
Shannon held firm to her bike and Jackie’s gaze once it finally stopped on her face. Her pulse sped up, her stomach tingled in that familiar way it did when she was attracted to someone, and she sensed
• 16 •
Descent
a liaison on the horizon. Out of the peripheral of her vision, Shannon noticed that the handlebar of her bike was just low enough to be in direct line with Jackie’s crotch. Keeping eye contact, she edged the bike closer and when Jackie’s eyes widened and grew dark, Shannon knew she hit her mark.
“Actually, I prefer going down. The faster the better.” She arched an eyebrow as if to say, “I know you know what I mean.”
Three chairs arrived and left the entry point before Jackie responded. Her voice was low and suggestive.
“I didn’t doubt it for a minute.” She looked around as if checking for her boss or anyone within earshot. “Speaking of minutes, I have a break in fifteen.” She nodded in the direction of the top of the lift.
Why not, Shannon thought. It had been a few weeks since she had enjoyed the company of another woman and this one was certainly willing. It was obvious she wasn’t looking for love. At least Shannon hoped she wasn’t. It might be awkward afterward with Jackie working at the lift, but it wouldn’t be the first time she ran into a previous lover.
She knew what to do. She had plenty of experience in how to handle that situation.
“About a quarter mile east on 210N are two downed trees,”
Shannon replied referring to one of the trails identified by the markers along the path. She was rewarded with a sly wink and a look that promised much more than what she had come to the mountain for.
• 17 •
• 18 •
Descent
ChaPTER Two
How many times are you going to lift that?”
“Just one more set.”
“Caroline, you’ve already done at least five and that’s only the ones I saw. Who knows how many I didn’t. We’ve been here for two hours. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Gritting her teeth, Caroline lifted the weight bar over her chest.
She was on her back, her arms shaking, and she felt her left arm begin to lose strength. The bar started to shift dangerously.
“God damn it, Caroline,” her best friend Fran Loming growled as she stepped forward to take the weight out of her hands and put it back in the bracket. “Now you’re being stupid.”
“Okay, okay, you win,” Caroline said, sitting up.
“It’s not about me winning. It’s about you. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
Caroline wiped the sweat from her face, giving herself a few extra seconds before she had to respond. Fran was only three days older than Caroline and was equally dedicated to her thrice weekly workout. They met their freshman year at Columbia, and after a few short months exchanged roommates and lived together for the remainder of their undergrad years and their advanced degree as well.
“I know, I know,” Caroline replied with absolutely no intention of letting up on her training regime. If anything, she was going to step it up a notch.
“Why is it I don’t believe you?”
• 19 •
JuliE CaNNoN
Caroline didn’t have to see the look on Fran’s face to know she was probably rolling her eyes at her. “Because I’m committed to winning this year?” she asked over her shoulder as she approached the stationary bikes. She knew Fran would follow her.
“And why is this year any different? Do you expect me to believe that for the past ten years you’ve been screaming down mountains, negotiating hairpin turns, peeling more than an acre or two of skin off your bones, and almost killing yourself, more than once I might add, just for something to do on the weekend? And why in the hell are you getting on the bike?” Fran pointed at the stationary machine. “Doesn’t your ass spend enough time in the saddle?”
Caroline could only shake her head. “Fran, it’s not that bad. I haven’t had a serious fall since the one in Arizona and that one wasn’t my fault. That bitch Martin cut into my lane.” Caroline stifled an involuntary shudder remembering the nasty thirty-foot spill she took down the side of the mountain. More than her pride had been wounded.
She had broken her leg in three places and it had taken over twenty stitches to close the gash in her left arm. She was very lucky. If a large boulder had not stopped her fall, it would have been much worse.
“I don’t care whose fault it was, and that’s beside the point.”
Caroline loved Fran, and at one time hoped there might be something more between them than just friends, but Fran was as straight as they came and Caroline didn’t want to lose her as a friend. They had seen each other through numerous boyfriends, girlfriends, jobs, cars, and races. Fran was a recreational mountain bike rider, more interested in seeing nature than conquering it.
Fran looked at her with the exasperated expression that was, unfortunately, far too familiar to Caroline. “Come on, Fran, you know how much this championship means to me.” Fran did, and Caroline didn’t know why she asked such a stupid question. She had been training practically nonstop for the past twelve months, determined to be in top physical condition going into the world mountain bike championships.
The last five months she’d ridden in several smaller races to get her body back into the groove of biking again.
The championship was run on some of the toughest downhill courses in the world. The scoring was similar to the Tour de France where riders earned points from not only winning a specific race but
• 20 •
Descent
also based on their race time and if they finished in the top three places.
Every race was a different distance, technically more complex as the series continued, and grueling as they passed through several different time zones every two weeks.
“I know, I know, knucklehead. I want you to win almost more than you do. I’m tired of traipsing all over the world after you.” Fran’s attention was drawn to a buff thirtysomething walking by with more than a few hard muscles.
Caroline took advantage of her distraction to increase her pace for a quick sprint. Before she had a chance to finish, Fran was turning back to her. She slowed down, too tired to spar with her. Fran was an attorney and Caroline lost every argument. She climbed off the bike and took a swig of the blue liquid in her water bottle. “You love it and you know it. What was his name, Carlos or something or another? You know, the one in São Paulo? Or was it Belize?” Caroline snapped her fingers. “No, I remember it was—” She didn’t get a chance to finish before Fran swatted her with her towel.