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Marisa had stopped listening at Cole wants you...
Serg tilted his head in imitation of his daughter. “Smart guy.” Then he adjusted the blanket covering his lap and frowned. “My wife likes to keep me bundled up like an Eskimo facing a blizzard even though spring
has come early this year.”
Cole returned, drinks in hand. “I see you’ve met the pater familias.” Handing Marisa a wineglass, he added, “He’s curmudgeonly in a teddy bear sort of way. I trot him out to make a good impression on the girlfriends.”
“Ha!” Serg replied. “I give thanks every day that your fancy schools at least taught you some Latin.”
Cole quirked an eyebrow. “Acta est fabula, plaudita.”
The drama has been acted out, applaud. Marisa hid a smile. She’d studied Latin, too.
“At least I know how to entertain,” Serg grumbled. “Smart-ass.”
“Chip off the old block.”
Serg made some more grousing noises before glancing at Marisa again. “Beautiful woman based right here in Welsdale. Perfect.”
“You’d think so,” Cole remarked drily.
“Get Marisa to take you on, and you’re set. Then you can stay put and run Serenghetti Construction.”
“Right.”
What? Cole’s mocking tone was undeniable but Serg surely couldn’t be serious. Marisa felt as if she’d landed in the middle of a family drama that she didn’t totally understand.
Serg shook his head. “I had a stroke but I can still understand sarcasm.”
“I’m the best you’ve got. Jordan and Rick are worse.”
Camilla appeared and came forward to fuss over her husband, and both Marisa and Cole stepped back.
Serg looked up from under lowered brows. “Vade in pace. Go in peace. Latin was required in my day, too, you know.”
As she moved aside, Marisa bumped up against something—or rather, someone—and turned around.
A tall, good-looking man smiled down at her. “Hi.”
Cole sighed resignedly. “Marisa, this is my brother Rick. The prodigal son back from a film set at the edge of the Earth.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Rick said with a lazy grin. “I’m the movie star. But I’ve been trying to get Cole here to play one of the bad guys for a long time. With the scars and all, don’t you think he looks menacing?”
What Marisa was thinking was that Cole made her heart go pitter-patter...
“You’re a stuntman and you’ve been a body double for Hollywood’s A-list,” Cole replied. “Still doesn’t make you a movie star.”
“A fine distinction.”
Marisa had to concede that Rick had movie-star looks. Closest in age to Cole, he was also rough-hewn. But he’d been a wrestler, not a hockey player, in high school. That much she knew.
“So word is you two are an item.” Rick looked at Cole, his expression droll. “Hot for the teacher?”
Marisa heated to the roots of her hair. She took a sip of wine to fortify herself.
“You can always count on a brother to embarrass you for no reason,” Cole said drily, though he didn’t look greatly perturbed.
“Your taste in women is improving. What’s to be embarrassed about?”
