Dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, Alex entered the kitchen, where Paul was eating dinner with his laptop open on the table next to him. “This computer is giving me heartburn.”

“Take some of Mom’s stuff.”

“Seriously. I might need to get a new one. It’s running so slow.”

“Call Adam McCarthy to look at it before you spend the money on a new one.”

“Good idea. I keep forgetting he moved home.”

Alex picked up the keys and tucked his wallet into his back pocket. “How about I help you get Mom up and changed and everything before I go?”

“Nah, I can handle it. She’s apt to stay asleep at this point anyway.”

“Call me if you need me.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Paul was still laughing as Alex walked out the door, letting it slam behind him. As annoying as his brother could be, it was nice to hear some laughter in their house for a change of pace.

In the barn, he got on the Harley and headed for town, where he stopped at three different places before he found what he was looking for and then headed for the lighthouse, his body humming with anticipation. It was amazing how quickly she’d become a bright spot in a life full of mundane routine.

Alex parked the bike and removed the bag he’d stored in the compartment under the seat. As promised, she’d left the door unlocked for him. He took the stairs two at a time, eager to see her.

In the kitchen, he put the bag he’d brought on the table. “Jenny?”

No answer. Damn, was she still sleeping? He went up the flight that led to her bedroom on the top floor. She was curled up on her side, her hand under her face, blonde hair spread out on the pillow. Alex sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her bare shoulder. The blazing heat of her skin seared his lips. Uh-oh.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Hey,” she said, her voice gravelly and sleepy sounding.

That was all it took to get his cock pressing insistently against his zipper. Down, boy. She’s sick, and we’re not here for that. “How you feeling?”

“Not so great. I’m hot.”

He rested a hand on her forehead. “You’ve got one hell of a fever. Have you taken anything for that?”

“Earlier. Didn’t help much.”

“I brought you some soup.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You did?”

Nodding, he said, “I couldn’t find chicken noodle, but they had chicken with rice at the deli.”

Her stomach growled, making them laugh.

“I’ll take that as a yes to the soup.”

“It does sound good.”