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

Then I wait, hoping he’s not going to back out.
Ten minutes later, Randall shuffles into the pub. He’s well past sixty, but you
can tell he was once a man with shoulders to rival Shaw. Now those
shoulders droop and a hard, round belly causes his jeans to sag. His scarred
hands testify to years of labor. The broken blood vessels on his bulbous nose
and the yellow tinge to his eyes tell another story.
Randall walks to the bar to get his own beer. I watch his interaction with the
bartender, checking to see if they know each other, if they’re friends. The
interaction is brief and impersonal. The bartender keeps his focus on the
football game playing on the TV hung over the opposite corner of the bar. I
doubt he’ll look our way.
Just in case, I’m wearing a baseball cap, glasses, and the sort of plaid buttonup
that Randall should perceive as a slightly more stylish version of his own
buffalo shirt.
I ordered a Budweiser, the same bottle Randall sets down on the table.
He sinks heavily into the booth, knocking the tabletop askew with his belly.
“They make these things so fuckin’ tight,” he grouses.
“Nothing’s made for tall men,” I agree.
It’s Randall’s bulk, not his height, causing the problem. But commiseration is
the first step to friendship.
“Didn’t even know if I was gonna come tonight,” Randall grumbles.
“Haven’t seen that bitch in years.”
“Mara?”
“Tori.”
I knew Tori Eldritch would be the hook. Once a woman has her claws in a
man, he never quite gets free of it. Randall divorced her and moved across
the state, but if Tori showed up on his doorstep in a tight dress, he’d make the
same mistakes all over again.
“When’s the last time you saw her?”