Chapter 8
Carr came downstairs at approximately half past eight. He wore nothing but a pair of fresh boxer-briefs that clung to his center. His hair was mussed, and he smelled like bed sweat; nothing a quick shower couldn’t take care of.
Jesse poured his guest a cup of coffee and told him to sit down at the two-person table.
Carr listened, smelling the java.
“You need some clothes on, guy,” Jesse said, staring at Carr’s firm nipples and goose pimples on his arms. “The house is chilly this morning.”
“I’m fine,” Carr replied, blowing on his coffee to cool it down. “Sleeping in the jungle. That’s talking cold. The temperature drops fairly low during the rainy season. It’s chilly as hell, which means the temp in here isn’t so bad.”
“Suit yourself,” Jesse said, sliding a freshly prepared omelet on Carr’s plate.