Beautiful Mistakes: Contemporary Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Victoria Snow

  That was pretty impressive.

  I didn’t have much time to admire it, however, because then we were onto the next move. I pushed his axe away and faked a headbutt as I surged upwards. Mickey snapped his head back just like he should, the wild, red wig on his head helping to sell the bit. He stumbled a few steps and I charged him just like I was supposed to.

  We went through all of it smoothly, not faltering even once. I couldn’t believe it. Normally with a new scene partner it took several takes just to get comfortable with each other. And it wasn’t like we’d had weeks of practice for it. And yet it felt like we did, my body falling into it naturally.

  We finished just like we were supposed to as well, both breathing hard and having managed to get on opposite sides of where we started. It was supposed to be pretty clear to the audience that we were in a solid stalemate before we raised our weapons and charged each other again, jumping at the last moment. The commercial was supposed to end while we were still in the air, flying towards each other.

  “Alright! Cut! Lets get our tight takes! You two good to go right away?”

  I nodded, heart in my throat and completely high off the experience. Mickey gave an affirmative grunt and then we were going right back to our original positions to start again.

  * * *

  By the time we officially wrapped, my entire body ached, but at the same time I was absolutely pumped. I felt elated in a way I hadn’t in ages, drunk on our success and how happy everyone seemed with how smoothly the second half had gone.

  Oh yeah, people were definitely going to hear about my company’s work. I could see it floating in my mind’s eye even as I tried not to get too ahead of myself. But it was hard considering all the good vibes and congratulations everyone was pouring on me. I felt like I was floating during the entire take down of my company’s tent and rounding up all the last-minute stuff.

  But when it came time to leave, I found that I wasn’t ready to go. Not by a long shot. I felt like something was unfinished, despite the shot list being completed and all the equipment being put away. I stood there a moment, watching as my workers pulled off in our two vans full of our stuff, and tried to think of where the feeling of malcontent was coming from.

  Chewing my lip, I wandered to the parking area that the assistants had roped off, hoping to find what I was looking for. I knew it was stupid, especially considering how frosty I had been towards him. After some serious scanning, I couldn’t see Mickey anywhere and I let out a long, long sigh.

  “You sound far too sad for someone who just absolutely killed it.”

  My heart spiked and I turned around to see Mickey standing there, looking all fresh faced and exhausted. I had killed it? He was the one who really made a part with almost no lines absolutely his. I had been largely enraptured by his acting and watching him work for about nine hours straight had made me realize that I knew so little of the man he had grown to be. How sad. We’d once been so familiar with each other and I’d let all that fade away.

  “What are you still doing here?” I asked. “I thought you left.”

  “It took them a while to get the glue from my beard off. Apparently, I’ve got some sensitive skin on my face.”

  It was only then that I noticed the pink tint to his jaw following along his normal stubble line. That did look a bit tender, and I was glad that I didn’t have to have one.

  “Wow, so you actually have a weakness?” I teased, wandering closer to him.

  He laughed at that; a gentle chuckle that seemed quite subdued compared to all the yelling that we’d done at each other over the past few days. “Several, actually.”

  “What? I don’t believe it.”

  “Give me time, you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  We shared another chuckle and I found myself feeling the contentment I had been missing earlier. I didn’t know what that was about, or what I was supposed to do with the warmth curling through me. The conversation stilled for a moment, and I found myself looking up into his eyes yet again.

  “Hey, you want to go to dinner? My treat.”

  I blinked, surprised at the offer. Then again, what was so surprising about it? Mickey was a nice guy, and generous, and we were two leads who just wrapped up a very successful day together.

  “You know what?” I answered. “I think I could use a bite.”

  13

  Mickey

  I strode into the restaurant, feeling pretty elated and pumped from filming. It’d been one hell of a day and I almost couldn’t believe it.

  After I nearly ripped that stupid producer’s head off, things seemed to change a bit between Amber and I, almost like I had re-earned her trust after bungling our first night together so much. And while we didn’t sleep together for the rest of the shoot, that didn’t mean I didn’t think about it.

  A lot.

  I went to bed every night hard as hell, having to take care of myself with my own hand while I thought about her over and over again. There were so many things I still wanted to do to her, positions I wanted to get her into, noises I wanted to coax out of her. After all, I hadn’t even gotten her to sit on my face yet, for all that I enjoyed tasting her.

  My lower half stirred at the thought and I mentally told it to calm down. We were just going to dinner as colleagues. I was sincerely happy for her and I had a lingering hope that the role would open a lot of doors for her.

  And she deserved it. She was so hard working, so disciplined. Watching her work was somewhere between erotic and awe inspiring and I was still pretty jazzed that I had had a front row view to that for an entire week.

  It turned out taking this gig was possibly the best idea my agent ever had. I would need to make sure I thanked him.

  …later. Definitely later. Because I spotted Amber coming in through the restaurant’s door and my body flooded with warmth.

  We’d both agreed to go home and shower before meeting up at a local tex-mex place. Well, for me it was to my hotel room, but apparently Amber’s place was only a twenty-minute drive with medium traffic, an hour on a bad day. And considering it was after seven on a Tuesday, she obviously had made very good time.

  She wasn’t as decked out as she had been for her friend’s wedding, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t absolutely gorgeous. She had obviously hit the shower, her hair still slightly damp as it fell in waves around her shoulders. She was wearing grey leggings and a light, flowing top that I could vaguely see her bralette under. It was a casual, breezy and beautiful outfit that made my heart thunder in my chest and that same feeling of protectiveness wash over me.

  She saw me and her face brightened, splitting into that beautiful grin of hers. I gave her a little wave before strolling up to the hostess.

  To be completely honest, it’d been a while since I’d gone out to eat anywhere casual and it was nice. It reminded me of my high school and college days, when money had been much tighter, and I hadn’t quite gotten on the path I was on now. I remembered chaperoning Michelle and Amber after their prom, driving them with their dates to the closest greasy spoon and making sure no one got fresh. A lot of good memories were built up in small, chain restaurants like the one we were in.

  “Wow talk about nostalgia,” Amber said, coming up alongside me after I stepped away from the hostess. “I haven’t been to one of these places in ages.”

  I smiled at hearing her echo my own thoughts. “Are places fancier around you?”

  She chuckled at that. “I just started my own company. I don’t exactly have the funds to be eating out very often, so when we do, it’s almost delivery.”

  “Ah, yeah, that makes sense.” I felt two distinct feelings rush through me. The first was guilt at not considering her situation, the second was that same protectiveness but three times stronger. I wanted to pour money over her head, to make sure that she never wanted for anything again. In my opinion, Amber deserved everything she desired and then some.
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  Thankfully, we didn’t get mired in awkwardness there as the hostess called the name I gave her and escorted us to our table. I made a note to myself to not bring up money again because it was messy, and by the time we slid into the booth, the conversation already moved on.

  “Ugh, I think I’ve got callouses from that sword,” Amber said, looking at her palms where they were splayed out on the table. I gazed down at them too, although I had the feeling that I was seeing them in a different light than the beautiful woman across from me.

  Her fingers did indeed have reddened spots where the sword’s hilt had rubbed her raw and I longed to bundle them up in ointment and gauze. But I also knew that Amber would sucker punch me before she’d let me put band aids on her fingers, so I settled for looking.

  She had callouses in all the places one would expect of a martial artist that was familiar with about a dozen different weapons. I wanted to glide my fingers along them, to feel their roughness compared to the softness of the rest of her. There were stories in those patches, stories that I wanted to hear.

  But for all the proof of how hard she worked; her hands were so little, almost dainty compared to mine. I thought about how they had looked pressed against my chest as she had straddled my hips, giving herself leverage as she pumped herself up and down on my cock. They had looked especially tiny then, making me feel larger than life. Like some sort of Norse god who was spending a night with a mortal.

  But I liked that she made me feel bigger, stronger. Made me feel like I was meant to protect her, to provide for her. Not that she needed anyone to do so… but still. I could. If she wanted…

  I cut that thought off. This was a professional dinner between colleagues. She’d asked me to cool it and I was. Besides, I genuinely enjoyed her company, even if sex wasn’t on the table.

  “How are your hands holding up?”

  “Just one blister in the crook of my thumb,” I answered, showing her. Surprisingly, she reached out and gripped my hand with both of hers and that same feeling of giant-ness washed over me.

  “Ouch. That doesn’t look fun.”

  “Eh, I’ve had worse.”

  “You’re a professional MMA fighter. I don’t doubt that.”

  She set all three of our hands down on the table but didn’t let go of me. I didn’t pull my hand away either, enjoying the feeling of her touching me without provocation.

  “Well, it’s not like your job is injury free and easy.”

  She smiled demurely at that, pulling one of her hands away long enough to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear before returning it to my own. “Nothing easy is worthwhile.”

  “I dunno, I think Michelle would fight to the death to defend her Easy-Bake Oven’s honor.”

  She snorted and it was just the cutest thing. “Please, have you ever used one of those? It takes, like, a mechanical degree and a whole lot of patience just to get it to cook a stupid little cookie.”

  “Well that’s not how the commercial made it seem.”

  “Okay, so this may come as a huge surprise to you, but commercials often lie.”

  I raised my eyebrows in mock shock. “Surely that must be illegal!”

  “’Fraid not. Everything you know is a lie.”

  “Well I’ll be damned.”

  We shared a chuckle and I was all sorts of excited for the conversation to keep going. Despite sleeping with each other twice and filming together for a week, most of our conversations hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes. The wedding was really it, and that had only been a couple of hours before we’d both been tipsy and pawing at each other.

  However, the waitress came over and Amber quickly pulled her hands away, as if she was embarrassed. I tried not to take it personally, but I wondered why she was concerned what our server thought.

  I didn’t want to ask her, however, and risk breaking the mood, so instead I just rolled with it, ordering myself a water and a beer. Amber ordered the same before I added the sampler platter. When it was around weigh in time for fights, I had to stick to a pretty specific diet. But since I didn’t have anything on the docket, I was going to let myself pig out.

  “And do you two know what you would like for your meals?”

  “That’ll take me a moment,” I said with a grin, giving the server a wink. She giggled and ducked her head, scurrying off to put our drinks and appetizer in.

  “Since when were you so smooth with women?” Amber asked, eyebrow raised. It was something we’d both done since our teens after watching way too much wrestling with Michelle, and everyone at school had had their own theories about who was copying who. It pleased me that she still had the same habit, like I had permanently marked her life or something.

  “I’ve always been smooth with women,” I countered, leaning back against the vinyl cushions of the booth. And it was true. Ever since I hit puberty, girls had noticed my tall build and strong jaw. Sure, I had been a bit scrawnier as a teen, but I’d always had that boyish charm.

  Just never with Amber. I’d heard people complain occasionally about being in the friendzone, but I remember wishing I could even get to that level of closeness, because it was always so very clear that I was firmly, steadfastly in the brotherzone, which was ten times worse.

  But also, not worse at all. After about a solid year of teenage pining, I’d come to terms with the fact that Amber would never see me that way and I’d contented myself with being her protector. An anchor for her in her turbulent life. I’d helped her Aunt clean the house or do especially strenuous chores that the hard-working single parent was too exhausted to do. I helped her with her homework if she needed it. I would take her and Michelle junk food shopping behind our parents’ back when it was time for one of their many, many sleep overs.

  Aunt Trisha really did try to do her best for Amber, but she hadn’t exactly been prepared to take a fledgling teenager in when her brother dropped the ball so badly. I had been happy to be there for her, and to make sure Amber’s belly was always full when she returned home to her guardian. The lot of us had gotten real close, which was probably why I didn’t call her Ms. Shelstien. No, it was either Aunt or Auntie Trisha and that was it.

  Huh, I hadn’t talked to her in at least a year or so. I should really check in.

  “What’re you thinking about?” Amber asked, cocking her head to the side ever so slightly curiously.

  “Just that I should give Aunt Trish a call,” I answered honestly. I didn’t see any reason to lie to her. “I’ve kinda let this whole MMA thing sweep me up. Let too many things drop.”

  A guilty look flashed across her beautiful face. “Damn, I probably should too. It’s been… too long.”

  I nodded. “Remember when we were teenagers and time couldn’t go fast enough? We were always in a hurry for everything to rush by.”

  She laughed again and I resolved to make her repeat that sound many more times. “Ugh, you’re not kidding. Don’t get me wrong, my teens were pretty stressful, and I never want to do that again, but I wouldn’t mind getting that sense of having so much time back.”

  “It would be nice. I’m in a good spot right now, but once the season ramps up, I know it’ll get pretty insane.”

  She smirked. “I wish I had an off season. Even when there’s a lull in filming, it feels like I’m always doing something massively important to progress the company.”

  “Sounds exhausting.”

  “Honestly, it is.” She finally let go of my hand only to rest her chin on her palm. I pulled my arm back to myself, my fingers still warm where she had been so casually touching me.

  I could feel my body craving more of her touch, wanting to feel her hold onto me, grip me, use me as an anchor while I turned her world inside out. But I also just wanted to bury my face in her hair and drift off to sleep together, all wound up in each other’s bodies. I wanted to hold her, to have her sit in my lap and lean her back against my chest as we watched a movie together.

  The domestic fantasy didn’t sur
prise me. It appealed to all of my protective, providing instincts. Desires that I’d had ever since my shoulders had broadened and my voice had deepened. I was just surprised and how viscerally my body reacted to the image.

  Huh.

  If Amber could hear or see my thoughts, I was sure they would send her running for the trees. It was clear that she was on a very set path at the moment, and that path just involved her and her company. I respected that, as I’d thought to myself many, many times, but the longer we spent together, the more I couldn’t help but wish that she could just carve out a little space for me to fill.

  That probably wasn’t healthy.

  But before I could really internally debate that further, the waitress returned with our drinks and the appetizer, apologizing for the wait. I hadn’t even noticed that time had really gone by. When I was with Amber, there really was just her and only her. She quieted all of the background noise and stress. She centered me.

  “Alright, are you ready for me to take your order?”

  I looked to Amber and she nodded with a ravenous look in the eyes. Goodness knew that we had worked up quite the appetite with all our work. The thought of filling her belly with food that she was hungry for made my entire body thrum with interest, and I looked down at the menu to distract myself.

  We both placed our orders and then fell into conversation again once the waitress was gone, almost as if she had never interrupted in the first place. The words bounced back and forth easily, banter flying and more than a little bit of flirting back and forth. It was nice, if there ever was an understatement, and the minutes floated by unnoticed.

  Our food came, delicious and steaming, but my attention was hardly on it. No, instead my eyes were caught up on Amber’s mouth, her lips growing a bit puffy from the hot sauce in her burrito. The crinkles in the corner of her eyes whenever she laughed at something or said something mischievous. The way her cheeks flushed when she retold an exciting story, the furrow of her brows when she was listening intently to me.