There Is No Devil Sinners Duet Book 2 By Sophie Lark-pdfread

A WEEK LATER, while Cole and I are taking a stroll through Golden Gate
Park, his phone rings in his pocket.
He pulls it out and answers the call.
It’s still a little disturbing hearing Cole talk with his usual level of animation,
while his face remains flat and smooth. He doesn’t bother to make
expressions when he’s on the phone and the other person can’t see.
“Good to know,” he says. And then, after a pause, “Yes, I agree.”
He ends the call, slipping the phone back into the pocket of his peacoat.
I have my arm tucked in his, so I have to crane my neck to look up into his
face. I’m trying to guess who it was and what they said—an exercise much
more difficult with Cole than with anyone else, because he gives me no hints,
only looking down at me with that enigmatic smile playing at the corners of
his lips.
I can’t tell if he’s pleased from the call, or only because I’m looking at him so
curiously. He loves when my attention is fixed on him.
“Well?” I say when I can’t stand it any longer.
“That was York,” Cole replies.
He’s still giving me no clue from his tone or expression.
I’m jumping on the balls of my feet, bubbling over with anticipation and
mounting fury that he won’t break the suspense.
“And? AND?” I shout.
“And I got it,” Cole says simply.
It’s my shriek of excitement, my sprinting around and around him in circles
that makes him grin. He doesn’t register the triumph of the moment until I
leap into his arms, my legs around his waist, my wrists locked about his neck,
making him kiss me again and again.
“You got it!” I shout. “YOU FUCKING GOT IT!!!”
“I always thought I would,” Cole says, tossing his dark hair.