Love Can't Wait

Love Can't Wait

By Asrai Devin

2019 Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Author note:

This book was originally written in 2011. Smartphones were not the norm, few people had given up their home phone for cell phones. And texting involved a lot of button pushing. I am cleaning up some of the wording in 2019 and noticed that the technology did not stand up to the test of time.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About the author

Other books by Asrai

Chapter 1

Amy Black slammed the door to her new stupid apartment. Her ex-husband would not let her have her cat. He never wanted the damn cat. That cat was the only thing she had left that loved her.

Your apartment building doesn’t allow animals. Look for one that does, and you can have the cat then. If you get evicted, you are not coming to live with me again.

She would die before she moved in with his cheating ass even if she slept in the spare room. Fuck that. Fuck him.

The confrontation had been hours before but she was too pissed off to return home. Then supper hour came and she went to a restaurant to console herself. Eating alone wasn’t much consolation. Even if a guy at the bar bought her a drink. She didn’t want to get picked up while she ate supper alone. It seemed pathetic.

She flopped on the sofa, grabbed the remote and flipped through the television channels. Oh great, the hockey game was on. There was a time when her life revolved around the hockey schedule. Hell, because her brother played hockey since forever, most of her life had revolved around hockey.

She glanced at the ice long enough to see her ex-husband jump on the puck as the opposing team jammed their sticks at his gloves.

In the early days of her marriage, she would have gasped with concern. What if he got hurt? Later on when she understood hockey, she knew a blocked shot would mean him coming home happy. Now days, she hoped it hit him some place vital.

She watched the next face-off, the play where the new power forward, Scott Jones, shot the puck and scored, for the second time, the announcers said.

Another jerk off like the rest. She changed the channel. He’d be the new superstar, picking up where Adam left off. Scoring goals on the ice, sleeping with every available woman off the ice. They were all the same except her brother, Doug. But he retired at the end of the last season, around the same time she learned about Adam’s other life, so they were all the same.

And here she was, weeks away from divorce, no children, and now she didn’t even have a cat to comfort her. Exactly not how she imagined the thirtieth year of her life when she and Adam were first together, she thought they’d have three or four children, he’d retire early and they would just coast on savings. Or she’d start her fashion line.

So much for those fucking dreams. Her fingers mashed through the channels. She shouldn’t be home alone channel surfing. She should be at the game, cheering them on. Afterwards she’d go with them to the bar to celebrate. Adam would spend tons of money buying her and his legion of adoring fans drinks. She and Adam would go home and have amazing sex. Or drunk awkward sex but it was better than the no sex she was getting right now. To distract herself from recalling her old life, she settled on a nineties movie. She tried to concentrate on Tom Cruise, Rene Zewelleger and that cute little kid.

She couldn’t catch a break tonight. Romantic movie. Her ex had a better life than she did.

Okay, she had been wallowing in this apartment too long, feeling too sorry for herself and being alone. When was the last time she got laid? Someone sexy, someone who would make her feel like a woman again, if just for one night. She thought about calling a friend, but they were married with children or would try to talk her out of her plan.

To make herself feel sexy, she took a leisurely shower and shaved her legs. She put on her best bar outfit, the one she used to wear when she needed to get Adam’s attention. That might have been a sign, she said to her reflection as she applied her makeup.

She painted her nails as she waited for the taxi to buzz her. Until Adam left, she had a standing appointment at her favorite nail salon every Friday, now manual labor left them shorn to the quick. Until her divorce was final, she got a pittance from her ex that covered her rent and nothing else. He had millions and didn’t care his ex worked her fingers to the bone.

It was early when she arrived at the club, but there was already a sizable crowd. She didn’t know she’d made a mistake until she was in the club and her cover charge was non-refundable.

A group of hockey players congregated around a table. They were all younger, not friends of Adam’s. Most of them wouldn’t recognize her. Hell, she barely recognized them, except for her new hobby of torturing herself watching the games.

She found a place to order that didn’t seem to have any players. A beautiful man down the bar clinked his bottle into his friend’s as they laughed and celebrated something. She smiled at him and he smiled back, his enthusiasm changing her mood.

The night was young and things were looking up.

Scott Jones loved Vancouver. When he first learned they had traded him, he balked. Second new team in three years. It wasn’t the team change that bothered him. It was leaving his friends. Playing on the opposing team didn’t sit well either. But he had new teammates. He’d opted to rent his own place this time around. He was getting older, grumpier. Peace and quiet in his old age were more important but he loved Vancouver. The female population gave him a warm welcome that made him feel the love of the West Coast.

Several women smiled at him as he followed some of his new teammates into his new favorite bar. I love this city.

What, the women not as loving where you come from? Shawn Moore asked.

He didn’t score as many goals in Alberta, someone else said. He couldn’t recall the man’s name. Oops.

They didn’t recognize his potential. Or know how to harness it, Moore added

Scott held up his beer. Cheers to that. Scott had scored two goals and assisted a third goal in tonight’s game. He was ready to celebrate the game. He was on-par for a seventy-point season, his best so far. And the women everywhere love me, but it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate everyone. He nodded to a brunette who smiled his way. I need to show this girl my appreciation right now.

He walked up to her. Can I buy you a drink?

I dunno now. Aw shucks. She was playing shy. Maybe I wanted the blond behind you to come over. Or not.

You were smiling at me, darling. Are you a hockey fan? Scott leaned on the bar.

You could say I know some players. She looked at him through her lashes. Are you a player?

He glanced at his buddies behind him. I scored three points tonight.

The hat trick?

No, two goals and one assist. He waited while she appreciated that feat. So, how about that drink?

One drink. I prefer to keep my wits around you.

I’ll take care of you, honey. What’s your poison?

Something untraceable in my ex-husband’s drink. His eyes widened and she quirked her mouth. Sorry, he was a dick earlier today.

You can cry on my shoulder.

She smiled. I’d rather not think about it. But if you know of an affordable apartment building that allows pets, let me know. I’ll have a vodka and cranberry.

Whatever the lady wants.

He caught a glare from her as he turned to get her drink. He set his empty beer bottle on the bar and ordered her drink and a second beer.

When he turned around, drinks in hand, he found her right behind him. Hey, wow. Hi. He held out her drink.

Thank you.

Not a problem. He waited a beat. So what do you do? His eyes traced her tongue as she licked her lips. Damn.

Well, I’m working as a waitress.

Oh, well.

I’ve been a trophy wife for eight years. I have zero practical skills.

What had he found tonight? I see. He took a long drink from his beer. She was high maintenance. Did her appearance make up for that? This was a one-night stand, he didn’t have to maintain her after tonight.

She sighed. Sorry, divorce sucks. Let’s leave it at that.

He stared at her with wide eyes while she downed the rest of her drink. I can agree to that.

She tossed her head and reached out to him.

He took her hand. Why do I feel as if I should have asked why you want my hand?

You didn’t come here just to stand around and drink did you?

Well. He let her lead him to the dance floor. He’d also let her believe he was reluctant. Truth was he enjoyed moving his body in time with the rhythm embedded in the music. Free form dancing made him nervous. He enjoyed the more structured steps of traditional ballroom. But only his mom, two sisters, and the small group of children forced to endure the same lessons knew he could waltz or tango.

When he stood there, bouncing to the music, she laughed. Come on, you skate well. I know you aren’t as wooden as you are acting.

He leaned in close to her. How do you know how well I skate?

I saw your second goal. Now come on. Let your hips go loose. She touched him while trying to get him to relax. He smiled over her head and let his body rub against hers while they danced.

He ignored her comment about seeing his second goal. She said she wasn’t a big fan and he’d leave it at that. He didn’t need to know her secrets to dance with her or take her home. Three songs later, she waved him off. I need a drink.

Oh, thank God. I didn’t want to look like a wuss and quit first.

Oh please, you’re an athlete. You have far more stamina than me.

He took her hand and led her off. Scared I’ll run away?

Nah I wanted to keep touching you. Your skin is incredibly soft and you smell like a Goddess.

What does a Goddess smell like?

He rubbed his thumb on the soft underside of her wrist. He leaned his face into her neck and breathed deep before raising his eyes. Fresh peaches and vanilla. He kissed the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder. She tilted her head to give him better access. He kissed along her jaw line until he met her lips.

She devoured him with her mouth, tongue, teeth and hands. When she let him go, he felt dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol he had consumed. Wow.

She smiled at him.

He cleared his throat. Can I buy you another drink?

Amy cringed as the sun poured into the room the following morning. Her brain pounded against her skull and her body was raw in places that hadn’t seen attention in far too long.

She scrambled to a sitting position. The sudden movement sent shock waves of pain through her body. Every part of her hurt. She moaned and covered her face. Lay back down or stay sitting? Moving was too painful. A male laugh made her growl. Until he slid the curtains closed and engulfed them in darkness.

You opened the curtains last night. You wanted to look upon the most beautiful city in the world. I forgot to close them.

She opened one eye to look at the man responsible for her pain.

And she had begged for his attention the previous night. Being desired was a balm for her lonely and battered soul. And for someone she met hours ago, he had surprising efficiency at making her orgasm. On repeat.

You okay? She watched him drop the towel he held on the floor. He wore a pair of faded jeans that hugged his body. And he was shirtless. All muscle. Over the course of the night she ran her tongue over every inch of his chest. Including the trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans.

Yeah, sure. She was turning herself on though her head felt like the only speaker at a Black-Eyed Peas concert. No problem. I think so, she whispered. You?

He chuckled. Better than you. I’ll make you some toast, okay? Don’t get up yet.

It’s okay. He disappeared before she could wave him off.

She sighed. God, what did her hair look like? Or her makeup, she imagined it smudged all over her face leaving her looking like a clown. Her phone rang somewhere from the floor. She scrambled out of the bed to grab it. She found it before it went to voice-mail. Fuck. Hello, she croaked. Double fuck.

Hey, little sister. You sick?

No, hung over. I got pissed at shit-face and got drunk. And slept with one of his teammates who was making her toast. Didn’t one-night stands try to get rid of you as fast as possible? Crap on a cracker.

Why had she picked him? As soon as she found out he was a pro, she should have run. Was this her type or was she a glutton for punishment? He was so fucking hot and charming, she couldn’t stay away. He was just like Adam.

Well, surprise! I’m in town. I tried to get in last night so I could catch the game, but no seats. So I took an early morning fly and here I am.

To check out her new apartment no doubt. Grr. She couldn’t bitch at him, either. He was trying to help, to be a nice big brother. At seven years older than her, he spent a lot of time taking care of his little sister.

Great, you can make Adam give me my cat.

He won’t give you your cat?

Not until I have an apartment that allows animals. Which made her sound like the dumb-ass, or maybe just blond. Neither description applied to Amy. What cat owner got an apartment that didn’t allow animals?

Well, can’t blame him there, I guess. Hey, I’m not saying he’s right. But it makes sense to wait. I landed two minutes ago, so I’ll give you time to get clean. Can we meet for brunch? That should help you. My favorite hangover cure was always tons of maple syrup.

She cringed. Seriously, are you human?

Maybe not. I’ll text you the restaurant info. And I’ll see if my buddy Scott can join us. He used to play in Calgary. He plays with Adam, but he’s not a bad guy.

Scott, oh that had to be a coincidence. There was more than one Scott on the team right?

Great. She needed a shower and to get the hell out of here so she could meet her brother for breakfast.

Hey, got your toast. Oh, you got out of bed. I hoped you would stay in there so I could rejoin you. He held out the plate.

She sat on the edge of the bed and held up her phone. My brother is making a surprise visit so he could check up on me. So I have to get ready to go. She dropped her phone and took the toast. I need this first, and if I can borrow your shower.

That works, too.

Music from the other end of the room interrupted before his next comment. Excuse me, he said. That’s my phone.

She stared at Scott as he crossed the room. She shoved the toast in her mouth as fast as she could while he answered the phone. There had to be a huge twist of fate where two Scotts played on the same team. Please, please, please...

Hello. Hey man. You’re in town? Did you come to visit me? He turned around in slow motion. You came to visit your sister. Am I doing anything? Not busy. Join you? No, I don’t think I can. I partied hard last night. Maple syrup, for real? That sounds gross. Yeah, I could join you and your sister for breakfast. I don’t have a reason to say no.

Amy wanted to wave her hands, but moving wasn’t possible. Shut up and agree, if he refused any harder Doug would get suspicious. Instead of