Sweet Solace (The Seattle Sound Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of her jeans.
    “She is. And no, I haven’t typed a word worth reading in years.”
    I stood, taking her hand in mine. I was going to miss touching her palm, talking to her. We walked up the beach and sat on a bench, swiping off the sand so we could put on our shoes. We didn’t talk as I led her back along the dark sidewalk.
    About a block from our cars, she turned toward me. “I know you didn’t ask for my opinion. This is overstepping the limits of friendship.” She took a deep breath and the words tumbled out. “From someone who’s been on the other side of loss, talk to Jessica. You married her for a reason. Love isn’t something to throw away or let slip through your fingers.”
    Emotion rippled through me. I stared into her beautiful, earnest eyes, and I couldn’t tell her it was too late for Jessica and me. I’d signed the separation papers months ago and had the divorce proceeding date to prove it. I forced my lips into a smile as I tapped the side of her nose. “Still a romantic even if you aren’t writing about it these days.”
    “Writing about love, for me, means believing in it. I hope you still do.”
    “Tell you what. I’ll talk to Jessica if you promise to write another book.” I was a dick for not telling Dahlia the truth, but I wanted her to find something she loved again. The way she’d talked about my lyrics showed how much writing meant to her.
    “You don’t even know if I’ve written anything worth reading.” She dug around in her purse until she pulled out a set of keys.
    “I know you, Dahlia Dorsey,” I said. “Your words are worth reading.”
    She smiled, a bright, happy beacon in the dark, weed-ridden parking lot.
    “I hope life leads you back to love,” she said.
    I rubbed her hair through my fingers. “Same goes.” Dropping her hair, loss blossomed in my chest.
    She opened the door to her SUV and slid inside. So she didn’t have to look at me? “I’ve had my chance at love.”
    “I still say you’re too young to have loved properly or to have a teenage daughter.”
    “Bye, Asher. I’m glad we met again.”

    * * *
    D ahlia drove away . Her words slithered through my mind, sincerity dripping from her soft voice: Love isn’t something to throw away or let slip through your fingers.
    She was right. Problem was, I’d never loved my wife.
    I turned and walked back toward where I’d parked. Dahlia’s panic attack had been horrible to watch. Her hesitancy at holding my hand depressed me. I’d always liked holding hands—for the connection, sure, but also for the imprint of the other person’s emotions.
    Snuggling palms with Dahlia had been more intimate than most of the sexual encounters I’d had during my twenties. Maybe because I was sober now. Maybe because I craved a partner who saw and loved me, not my stage persona.
    The constant need to guard my expression, my thoughts, animate my actions, be “on” . . . I was tired of all that shit. More, I was tired of trying to make sense out of my personal life.
    Mason had been sullen and unresponsive when I called earlier. That wasn’t anything new. He was a smart kid and knew something was wrong between Jessica and me. I was lucky my wife and her lover, one of Mason’s friend’s dads, weren’t splashed over every entertainment station, website, and magazine. I figured it was a matter of time, which was why I’d wanted to keep our separation quiet. Mason didn’t deserve to deal with any more drama in his life.
    When Mason had handed Jessica back her phone, she’d told me her lover made four times more a month than I did. Owning car washes.
    I almost asked her how much Car Wash Dale’s soon-to-be-ex was going to keep, but I didn’t want to give Jessica any more ideas. She was ambitious. I couldn’t blame her, not after I discovered the extremity of the poverty she had grown up in. Like so many others who’d once not had enough to eat, Jessica was fixated on the zeroes in her bank account.
    When she had