bit, but she really did need to get a grip. She was an accomplished and well-paid lawyer, for goodness’ sake. This should be easy.
She checked the cupboards, found the instant oatmeal, and made it on the stove with milk rather than water, just as her dad had always liked it. When they’d been kids he’d kept a dairy cow for the milk, cheese, and butter her mother had loved to make.
There wasn’t any fresh fruit, something she’d have to remedy, so she took the oatmeal through with a small bowl of brown sugar and a jug of cream on the side, just in case her father wanted it.
“Thank you, my love.” Her father brought his recliner upright as she put the tray on his lap. “Isn’t it nice to see Kaiden again?”
“Sure, although we were never really friends.” Julia offered him a napkin.
“That’s right, he hung out more with Miguel.”
Until they’d had that big fight and never spoken to each other again, but Julia certainly wasn’t going to bring that up. When Miguel had shared Kaiden’s real opinion of her it had hurt so much she’d decided never to speak to Kaiden again. Yet, here she was, having to listen to him anyway . . .
“I’ll go and check on the coffee.”
She went back to the kitchen only to find that Kaiden had beaten her to it. She paused to assess his back view. He wasn’t as tall and broad as his two older brothers but he certainly had muscles in all the right places and, if she was going to be completely honest, a very fine ass indeed.
“Like what you see?”
Julia glared at the back of his head. “Yes, until you open your big mouth and spoil it all.”
He turned around. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You would.” She met his amused stare. “I . . . really do appreciate what you’re doing here.”
He pressed his hand to his heart. “Wow, I’m kind of touched. The great Julia Garcia is being nice to me.”
“I want my dad to be comfortable in his own house, that’s it.” Her cell buzzed and she ignored it even as her stomach tightened. “Are you like some kind of a construction manager now?”
“No, I’m just the odd jobs guy.” He dealt with the coffee, pouring it into the two mugs. “Do you take sugar with yours?”
“Of course not.” She gestured stiffly at the pot. “Please help yourself while I take Dad’s through.”
“Thanks.” He reached for another mug. “Seeing as I made it at least I know it’s not poisoned.”
Julia took her father’s mug and went down the hall. Why did Kaiden have to make a joke about everything? Was he really that shallow? Maybe he was. He was still living in Morgan Valley with his family, and, according to him, hadn’t picked up any more education. Not that education was for everyone. Her dad had left school at sixteen to help his father and grandfather run the ranch, before going into the military, and he was as shrewd as anyone she’d ever met in the city.
Was she turning into the kind of snob she’d always secretly despised when she’d first gone to live in the affluent suburbs around Stanford? If Kaiden was happy and content with his life, and he sure looked happy, what he did had nothing to do with her. As she returned to the kitchen with her father’s empty bowl she could hear Kaiden whistling as he walked around the house.
He’d always done that even as a kid.
She rinsed out the bowl and set it to dry, her gaze again distracted by the stupendous view. She shook her head.
“This could be so much better.”
She took one of the kitchen chairs, climbed up on it, and then onto the worktop where she grabbed hold of the yellow drapes, sneezing as dust exploded in her face. To her annoyance the fabric clung stubbornly to the rail.
“Hold up there, Ms. Impatient.”
Still sneezing, she glanced over her shoulder to see that Kaiden had reentered the kitchen. He drew up a second chair alongside hers and hopped up beside her.
“You need to unscrew the ends of the rail before you can slide the rings off. Hold on to the drapes, will you?”
He produced some kind of tool from the pocket of his shirt and set to work, his wide shoulder pressed against hers. Julia found she couldn’t look away from the deft motions of his hands, and the faint whistling he seemed unaware of that still