Chapter 9There were days when he might not agree that it was good to be alive, not with life’s twists and its sharp pain, its brutal reality of dead bodies, but right now, in this very moment in time, Jimmy McSwain wasn’t about to complain. Outside, rain poured down, splattering against the window, the dark clouds in the sky above making the late afternoon seem like midnight. Only candlelight from inside kept his heart aglow, that, and the sexy man who stared at him across the length of the sofa.
An empty wine bottle stood on the table in front of them; glasses remained half-full.
Remnants of a meal, red sauce splattered on the plate, went ignored on the coffee table in front of them. Jimmy was intent on shutting out violent images.
Nothing existed but now, the two of them, deciding to
