The Summer Girlfriend (Heart Beach, #1)(7)
She rushed to the kitchen and opened the cabinet above the sink where they kept their snacks. The navy blue and white Smith’s Sweets cookie box looked like it was glowing. She grabbed the box and opened the fridge to pour a glass of milk. Noelle loved Smith’s Sweets. Had a hard day? You deserved a Smith’s Sweets snack. Had a good day? You deserved a Smith’s Sweets snack. Growing up, no Thanksgiving was complete without a frozen Smith’s Sweets pumpkin or cinnamon apple pie. But Noelle’s favorite snack was the salted caramel chocolate chip cookies.
She sat at the kitchen table with her glass of milk and plate of cookies. Realizing that she forgot her phone in her room and she couldn’t scroll mindlessly on social media, she opted to read the Smith family story on the back of the Smith’s Sweets box—something she’d done a hundred times before.
It all began when Jeremiah Smith started baking for his pregnant wife, Minnie, in their small New Jersey home. In 1965, Jeremiah and Minnie opened their first official bake shop. They developed a full line of traditional baked goods, perfecting each recipe and baking each dessert from scratch. People traveled from all over to try their delicious desserts. Today, Smith’s Sweets is a nationally recognized brand, and you don’t have to travel to New Jersey to have a taste of the goodness. Our award-winning cookies and desserts are available at dozens of retailers around the country.
Smith’s Sweets is proud to be a family-run business. From our family to yours, we hope you enjoy our sweets that are baked with love.
In the bottom-right corner, there was a small black-and-white photo of Jeremiah and Minnie standing in front of the original Smith’s Sweets bakery. Jeremiah was tall and broad-shouldered. He had a handsome face with strong features. Minnie was much shorter and very pretty, fashionably fitted in an A-line dress with her hair styled in curls. She smiled at the camera as Jeremiah smiled at her. He looked completely down bad for Minnie, as if the sun rose and set on her.
Noelle dipped another cookie in milk and glanced at the last line on the back of the box again.
From our family to yours, we hope you enjoy our sweets that are baked with love.
She did some quick math. If Jeremiah and Minnie had grandchildren, they were probably around Noelle’s age.
She’d bet they were loaded.
Chapter Two
Celeste was calling him again.
Jeremiah Smith II glanced at his phone and lost his train of thought as Mom popped up on his phone’s screen, accompanied by a photo of him and his family taken on his eighth birthday. They were at Disney World and he and Celeste were sitting side by side. Jeremiah wore Mickey Mouse ears and Celeste donned Wayfarer sunglasses as they cheesed for the camera. Off to the side, his younger sister, Amara, was a moving blur, mid-run. Seconds before the photo was taken, she’d dropped her ice cream cone on the ground and was more concerned about replacing it than taking a picture. His older brother, Percy, stood partially out of frame to the left of Celeste, the bottom half of his face obscured by the large water bottle he held to his mouth. His grandfather, whom they’d all called Pop, stood behind Jeremiah, resting his hands atop Jeremiah’s shoulders. He wore aviator-style sunglasses and his bald head glistened in the sun. His wide smile was filled with love and pride.
Their Grandma Minnie was absent from the photo. She’d passed away a few months prior. Celeste had planned the trip as a celebration for Jeremiah’s birthday, but it had also been an effort to bring some joy back to their family. Particularly to Pop, who’d taken Grandma Minnie’s death the hardest. In the first few weeks after she’d passed, Jeremiah often caught Pop staring off into space with a vacant look in his eyes. That trip to Disney had reinvigorated Pop. He’d laughed his booming laugh, rode every ride, and walked with Amara perched on his shoulders, even when he grew tired. He’d resumed his role as their larger-than-life hero.
Jeremiah inhaled deeply and rode out the sharp, familiar sting that he felt in his chest whenever he thought about his grandfather and how much he missed him. It had been two years since Pop’s death, and it still hadn’t gotten much easier.
He was trying his best to live up to the memory of the man he was named after. He was afraid that he was failing miserably.
His phone finally stopped vibrating.
“Sorry, Mom,” Jeremiah mumbled to himself. “Can’t talk right now.”
He had a pretty good idea about why his mom was calling and what she wanted to discuss. It would probably lead back to the stupid lie he’d told in May—a lie he’d instantly regretted, even though it had let him off the hook. If he answered her call now and the conversation went in the direction that he was assuming it would go, he’d be forced to either confront his lie or continue it. And he wanted to do neither.
Stupid lie aside, he really didn’t have time to talk right now. For real. He didn’t. He’d call her back later. After his meeting. Or maybe tomorrow…
He definitely was not purposely avoiding his own mother.
He returned his attention to his reflection in his full-length mirror. His charcoal gray blazer and white button-up, just picked up from the dry cleaner that morning, were crisp and wrinkle-free. His fade was fresh. He flashed a smile and winked, trying to conjure up some good luck and charm. Today’s pitch meeting would go well. He’d speak that shit into existence.