Intimate Portraits (3 page)

He turned, jug in hand. Like his body,
his face was lean and bronze, with clean, strong bones. The hair was longer
while the dark eyes had new lines around them, but he was still Rennie.

His eyes went to the poker she
held. "Planning to start a fire or should I be concerned?”

Like she was one of his sisters
he’d seen the day before.

She clicked off her cell and tried
for breezy, too. “I didn’t know who was here. You scared the stew out of me.”

Thick brows lifted. “But you knew
Francisco was coming.”

“No. Yes. Not this early. You
know Fran. I figured it would be five or six o'clock before he got here. Where
is he, anyway?”

“Working. Okay, cat, I hear you
but milk’s not on your diet.” He grinned at Autumn. “His boss was invited to
replace an indisposed speaker Sunday for some shindig at the High Museum. Our Francisco’s
busy dealing with the schedule switch.”

How like Fran. Not even a phone
call to warn he was sending Rennie in his place. If she’d known, she could've been
prepared. She rallied. “The High Museum? That’s great. Their supporters have
money. Gobs of it. And I guess more exposure means more publicity for Gus’s campaign.”

Rennie pretended to think. “I
believe little brother mentioned that. Along with more donations to keep the
workers paid. Like the campaign manager.”

“Who happens to be Fran.” She
focused on the milk tumbling from jug into glass to keep from ogling him. “Gus’s
wife must have finagled it. She’s assistant director at the High.”

“Whatever. Anyway, Fran can’t get
loose till tomorrow and then just for the day. He wanted Laney to wait and take
you up to Helen with her and John. You can guess how that went over.”

Her pulse settled. “Yeah. Laney tried
to leave last night, she’s so anxious. She’s planned this trip for months. I’d
be about as welcome as a case of mumps.”

“Uh huh. So I told her to go on
with John, that I’d cover.” He headed for the sink with the empty jug. “The kid’s
growing up. A year ago, he’d have told his boss to forget it.”

“He can’t. He’s in charge of
everything. You ought to see him, trying to make sure Gus looks and acts like a
gubernatorial candidate. Poor Fran’s on call twenty-four hours a day.”

“I know. But little brother’s
gung ho. If Huertole wins, Francisco has visions of being named press secretary
or assistant governor or king of Atlanta or something. Anyway, I got in yesterday
and Mom gave me her key and volunteered me to pick you up.” He stopped in front
of the sink. “You don’t mind, do you? If you’d rather wait for—”

“Of course not.” Darn those sharp
eyes. He could pick up on the slightest sign. "Without a ride, I’d have to
stay here. My car’s in the shop so I’m using the studio minivan, which, sad to
say, is on its last legs. Thanks for filling in.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked at the
poker she still clutched. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t be silly. You know what a
coward I am. If I’d been scared deep down, I’d have run screaming bloody murder
when I found the door unlocked. I’ll put this back.”

“I think it’s safe. No burglars
here. I haven’t even come across a cockroach.”

“And you’d better not. Reseda
would be outraged.”

Again the unhurried grin. “Once
Mom spotted him, any intelligent roach would roll over and wait to be stomped
dead.”

She snapped her fingers. “So
that
’s
why I haven’t seen any around. They’ve wised up.”

His cologne had changed, but the
new choice still smelled of cedars and pines. She should have known who was
here. Maybe subconsciously she hadn’t wanted to be disappointed.

After sticking her cell in her
purse and putting away the poker, she returned to find him rinsing the jug.
Squeaky—the little traitor—was rubbing against his denimed legs. She said, “Guess
I’ll eat my cereal dry in the morning.”

“You won’t be here for breakfast
tomorrow.”

“True. I won’t need milk, will I?”

“Nope.” He turned the force of
his personality on her briefly, indulgently, in a gesture unique to Rennie,
where his head didn’t move but the eyes flicked up, hit their target, and
returned to the task at hand. Her heart swelled.

Still… His narrow face, with its
lash pattern against flat cheeks and delineated bones, revealed a difference.

Maybe he was tired. Or it might
be the light.

Don’t stare.
She fastened on his hands. Like
the rest of him, they were quick and sure, slim and brown.

He held up the jug. “Recycle or
trash?”

“Recycle. There’s a bin in the
utility room.”

Those creases radiating from his
mouth and corners of his eyes hadn’t been so pronounced the last time she’d
seen him, but that was two years ago.

When he returned, he took the
glass of milk and held it up. “Want half of this?” Despite her refusal, he didn’t
drink. “Your cat seems glad to see me, but I figured I’d get at least a hug. Tell
me, is it my breath or has my antiperspirant failed?”

She was, after all, caught
staring. “Oh, Rennie, how thoughtless I am. Welcome home. You took me by
surprise.”

Going over, she put her arm
around his waist and squeezed as if he was a dear friend she hadn’t seen in a
long time.

Which he was.

Too bad the faint cologne didn’t hide
his body scent, his Rennie-odor that made her stomach churn and her nose want
to nuzzle into his chest.

Better let him go before she
embarrassed herself.

She gave him a final pat on the
back. “Squeaky, I’m sad to inform you, isn’t discriminating so don’t think she’s
fond of you. She’ll take up with anybody she hopes might feed her. I really am
glad to see you. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

“Certainly not raiding your
refrigerator. Depleted as it is.” He lifted his glass to her and drank, throat
muscles rippling.

“Yeah, raiding my depleted refrigerator.”
She’d better put some distance between them. “Are you home for Christmas?”

“I'm home for good.”

“For good?” She stopped mid-step.
“You mean it?”

“Yep. Well, not here in Atlanta. Athens.
I signed a contract with the University this morning. The first of the year, I’ll
be teaching two classes for the AI Department along with doing some research and
development stuff.”

He’d be home. Close by. “That’s
wonderful. Does Reseda know?”

“Mom does
not
know. In
fact, nobody at home knows. You’re the first one I’ve seen since it happened.”
He checked his cell. “Approximately three hours ten minutes ago. If you don’t
mind, keep it to yourself. I don’t want to tell the others before Mom. She left
for her trip before dawn, but I’ll talk to her tonight.”

“Reseda will be beside herself. She’ll
be more excited than when you got your doctorate.”

“Probably. She’s always hated me
being so far away.”

What about Jane? She wanted to
ask whether Jane was moving to Athens with him, if they were getting married.

She didn’t.

The other Degardoveras blurted
out everything, never caring if they pried or hurt feelings. Not Rennie. He was
the quiet one, the private one.

Your secrets were safe with him,
but he never shared his.

She pushed the bowl of oranges on
the bar an inch to the left. “I’m not packed.” Her hoarseness came from
longing. She cleared her throat. “That’s why I took the rest of the day off. Well,
I knew Fran wouldn’t be here so I went by Perimeter first, but… And I meant to
get home early so I’d have plenty of time to pack, except… Let me run upstairs
and get my stuff together and we can leave. I’m excited about going to Helen
with the gang. I don’t get many weekends off and I haven’t seen Norma in ages.”

Great.
Really coherent there,
Autumn.

She’d finally got a handle on life
and now this. Why did he turn her into a babbling idiot? He was an old friend,
that’s all.

Keep saying that and maybe she’d
believe it.

Rennie, being Rennie, politely
ignored her blather. “Take your time. Please. We’ve got the entire weekend to
be interrogated by my sisters and entertained by Francisco. Not to mention
being cooped up in an isolated mountain cabin where we can’t escape any of them
no matter how hard we try.”

She dredged up a chuckle. “Come
on, celebrating Laney’s anniversary will be fun. Think of the family
togetherness.”

“I prefer quality time over
quantity time when it comes to my siblings. A little of them goes a long way.”

“Liar. You love them. Be ready in
a jiffy.”

Confronting him so unexpectedly had
put her out of sorts. Safe in her upstairs bedroom, she busied herself to calm
down.

Concentrate.

This duffel bag would do. For the
anniversary dinner, her navy slacks would go with the new holiday sweater. Then
some jeans and a sweatshirt for walking around town. She’d also need underwear,
jammies, maybe a robe and house slippers. Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and makeup.

Mustn’t forget makeup. Not if she
wanted to be presentable tomorrow and the next day.

The stairs creaked before Rennie
appeared. “Autumn?”

His voice, like him, was
low-pitched and reassuring. He never raised it, not toward parents or siblings
or anyone else.

Never. He met every situation in
the same easygoing way.

That was another thing she liked
about him.

Growing up with her aunt and
uncle, she’d had to pick up on each intonation, each change of posture, each
shifting expression. Failure meant reprimands or punishment.

But Rennie was always kind, never
judgmental.

“Be right with you, Rennie. Won’t
take a sec.”

He wandered into her bedroom. “You
don’t mind that I'm taking you up to Helen instead of Francisco, do you? Sure
you wouldn’t rather wait and go with him tomorrow?”

Darn. He’d noticed her agitation.

She looked over her shoulder and
gave him a smile that had to be brilliant because her mouth stretched so wide
her face felt like it was cracking into tiny pieces.

“Don’t be silly. Knowing Fran, he
may miss the weekend entirely. You wouldn’t believe what a workaholic he’s
become. Without a ride I’d have to hang out here with the TV for company. Say, that
reminds me. My car might be ready. Would you call the garage and check? Maybe
we can pick it up before we leave town. The number’s on a card by the phone at
the bar.”

Great. Keep up the jabber, and he
wouldn’t want to drive her anywhere.

“Consider it done.”

When he turned, the poster-sized
photograph of Fran hanging on the wall confronted him. His foot checked, but he
didn’t comment on his brother’s nudity or the provocative pose.

She opened her mouth to explain.

His step resumed. “I’ll check on
your car.”

Her words of explanation never
materialized. Rennie wasn’t curious, didn’t think it strange she kept a sexy photograph
of Fran in her bedroom.

No need to justify its presence
because Rennie didn’t care.

Let down, she took out a scarf
and jingle bell earrings to pack, then found walking shoes and thick socks.

Spending two nights with the
Degardoveras in a cabin near the north Georgia resort town of Helen had sounded
like fun when Laney invited her. She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do
than celebrate her friend’s second wedding anniversary. But with Rennie in the
party…

“He’s not going to spoil my
weekend,” she muttered.

Besides, her stupid outburst when
he went away to UCLA was old news. Her neck heated at the way she’d begged to
go with him, at how she’d sniveled when he ever-so-kindly turned her down.

Afterward, he never mentioned her
breakdown. He’d treated her the same way as before. Like a friend.

Might as well accept it. That’s
all she’d ever be.

Tail high in a question mark, Squeaky
strolled in. She leaped onto the bed and began to lick her paws, aiming a
knowledgeable stare toward Autumn.

“All in the past, my dear,” she told
the cat. “No more wearing my heart on my sleeve for some stupid cupid to shoot
down. You see before you a woman in control.”

Squeaky stopped with one paw
upraised. She cocked her head to one side as if she didn’t believe it.

“I am too in control!”

Squeaky plopped down and rolled
over on her back, sticking all four legs up into the air as if laughing.

Silly cat. What did Squeaky know?

She raked a brush through her
hair in front of the mirror. There. Her usual face looked back at her. The same
face she always wore.

Unlike the difference in Rennie’s
that her photographer’s eye had picked up on.

She frowned, then shrugged. Not
like she could do anything about it anyway.