The Summer Girlfriend (Heart Beach, #1)(71)

“Do you miss her?” he asked.

She looked up at him. Realizing he still held her garment bag and suitcase, she walked over to take them.

“I do,” she said. “I’m happy for her. She and André are so adorable, and they’re in love, so I absolutely understand why they spend as much time together as they can. But yeah, I miss her sometimes.”

She put the garment bag over her shoulder and rolled her suitcase across the living room to the hallway, where he assumed the bedrooms were located. He walked farther into the living room and glanced at a framed photograph of Noelle and Tati on the wall. They were teenagers dressed in graduation robes, looking at each other mid-laugh.

“I’ve been with you most weekends lately, though,” Noelle said as she returned to the living room. “So I think I’ve been preoccupied with that.”

She stood in front of him and lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“So, this is our apartment,” she said. “It’s not much. But it’s home.”

“I love it.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yeah. I can feel the love between you and Tati here, like it’s a real home.”

She smiled at him, pleased. “Thanks.”

He’d helped her carry her things upstairs. There was no reason for him to stay. But he was reluctant to part from her. From the way she stood there, watching him, he wondered if she was reluctant for him to leave as well.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” he asked.

“I’m kind of tired and don’t want to go out again,” she said, and his stomach sank. “But I was planning to cook. Do…you want to stay for dinner?”

“Yeah,” he hastened to say. “Of course.”

He followed her into the kitchen. She opened the cabinets and pulled out a large skillet and some olive oil and seasonings. Then she opened the fridge and pulled out ground beef and bell peppers.

“What are you cooking?” he asked.

“Tacos. One of my few specialties.”

Noelle was always doing so much for other people. She was helping him by being his pretend girlfriend and now she was volunteering to help his nieces with their dance routine. Even her other jobs required her to be in service to others. She deserved to relax and have someone else help her.

He took the seasonings from her hands. “I’ll cook.”

“You can cook?” She blinked at him.

“I can do a little something something.”

She smirked, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. “A little something something like what?”

“Like…picking up the phone to order delivery or putting something in the air fryer.”

She barked out a laugh. “Very impressive.”

“Nah for real, though. I can cook breakfast foods. Bacon. Eggs. Pancakes. French toast. Whatever. I don’t cook a lot, but I’m a fast learner. Just tell me what to do.”

She tilted her head and looked at him with a soft smile. “Okay. You can start by chopping up the peppers.” She put a knife and cutting board on the counter in front of him. “Please don’t slice off your finger.”

“Damn, girl, give me a little more credit than that,” he said, and she laughed as she sat at the table.

He sliced the peppers. Then Noelle directed him to season the ground beef and add it to a pan on the stove.

“Looking good so far,” she said as he used the spatula to break up the ground beef. She took the peppers he’d sliced and added them to another skillet, seasoning them too.

“You’re supposed to be sitting down, ma’am,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and ushering her back to the table. “I got this. You’re insulting me by helping.”

She laughed as she sat down again. “Okay, sorry.”

When he was finished with the peppers, she directed him to get the head of lettuce and tomatoes to chop those as well. As Jeremiah opened the fridge, he glanced at a picture of Noelle and her mom. It must have been taken on her mom’s birthday a few years ago because they were standing in front of Texas Roadhouse and her mom was holding a birthday balloon. He then glanced at another picture of Noelle that looked more recent. She was standing in an aisle at Hidden Gems Books, holding a stack of old paperbacks, smiling at whoever had snapped the photo. Being here with her in her kitchen, cooking her dinner while looking at her photographs, felt intimate. Real.

“Excuse me, Mr. I Can Do a Little Something, Something,” Noelle said, bringing him back to attention. “You’re supposed to be chopping the lettuce and tomatoes.”

“Yes, Chef!”

She laughed as he grabbed the vegetables from the fridge.

Soon, dinner was done. Jeremiah placed the meat, chopped lettuce and tomatoes, and cheese on the table in separate bowls, next to a plate of tortillas. Noelle placed plates and utensils on the table.

He waited as she took the first bite. She grinned slowly as she chewed.

“Wait, this is so good,” she said.

“See, I told you.” He puffed up his chest, proud to have cooked a delicious meal for the woman he liked.

As they ate, they talked about new music they were listening to and the shows they were watching. She told him she was looking forward to reading a new psychological thriller by an author named Jeanette Stevens. They could have talked about any topic, and Jeremiah wouldn’t have cared. As long as it meant he’d be here in this space with Noelle.