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scoop. Dig in and I’ll be back in five minutes. Gregor needs his breakfast too.”
    I left him to feed himself and poured biscuits into a doggie bowl for a happy Gregor. He looked to be a great dog and I patted him a couple of times and left him to feed himself as well. I stacked the dishes in the dishwasher, then went back to check on the patient. The empty plate was still on the tray but the whole thing had been placed on the floor and Patrick was curled up on his side once again with his eyes closed. I pulled the quilt over his shoulder for a third time.
    “I took some money from the grocery purse. I’ll ride up to the chemist and pick you up some stuff that will make you feel better. Okay?”
    Patrick didn’t open his eyes. “Ride?”
    “Yep. Ride. Maybe when you’re better I’ll let you have a go on my trusty bicycle. But for now have a quick nap and I promise I’ll be as quick as I can.”
    Shopping for a cold was a matter of experience—cold and flu tablets from the chemist, two different varieties of throat lozenges (one with menthol, one without), Vicks for the chest, tissues with eucalyptus in them, honey and lemons to make tea, aspirin, nose spray, and all the ingredients for chicken soup.
    Gregor came to greet me as I fumbled through the door with bags of groceries.
    “Jake? Is that you?” Patrick’s feeble voice came from the direction of the bedroom.
    “Yes. It’s just me. I’ll bring you something in two shakes.”
    The man was still curled up in a miserable heap when I came in with the items for his cold. “Hey,” I called as I walked in. “I have a bunch of things for you to make you better. But you need to sit up again. Sorry.”
    I wasn’t exactly sorry to be seeing his naked chest again. I felt a bit discomfited at perving on a guy who couldn’t tell, and a guy who was as sick as a dog at the same time. Discomfited, yes, but not sorry enough to stop. He was a mighty fine figure and I needed eye candy. It made my day. He was thin and stringy without bulgy muscles that came from religiously working out. No, this guy was naturally gorgeous. And maybe with a little help from the treadmill in the sunroom.
    When he was upright, I told him to hold out his hand. I placed two tablets in his palm and passed him water to wash them down; then I watched as he swallowed. “Good. They should kick in soon, and you can get up and have a shower. Now, here. These are throat lozenges that will help your sore throat and clear your nose too.”
    He fingered the packet. “How did you know I had a sore throat?”
    I laughed. “Mate, sore throats are kind of a requirement when you have a cold. Suck on one and I’ll make you a nifty label for the box in a bit. Now put your hand out. These are tissues with eucalyptus in them, which you can probably smell. They help heaps.”
    He grabbed the box and sniffed loudly. “I can’t smell a thing at the moment.”
    “Diddums. Once again a requirement of a cold.” I reached over and patted him on the shoulder in mock sympathy. Yeah—okay! I did it to cop a feel as well. Hey! What can a man do? With all that exquisite, pale flesh on display? I pushed gently to get him to lie down again and pulled the covers up.
    “I’ll be back in a little bit. Just call if you need me.”
    I left him for half an hour while I put chicken soup on the stove to cook, but then I came back to coax him out of bed.
    “Come on, big guy. Up, up, up. Go and chuck yourself in the shower and feel nice and clean while I change the sheets.”
    “What?”
    He seemed a bit better, less sniffy anyway, so I ripped the covers off him and yanked his leg. Yeah—okay! I was copping a feel again. Sue me! “Out. I have to put new sheets on the bed.”
    He looked horrified. “I can’t let you do that.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because… because I’ve been sweating all over these sheets and they’re gross.”
    “So?”
    “So, you shouldn’t have to do that.”
    I laughed and leaned over him to